the
word.

In the days when the Schloss Heidelberg was in its most flourishing
state the lord of the castle numbered among his retainers a jester,
small of stature and ugly of feature, whose quips and drolleries
provided endless amusement for himself and his guests. Prominent among
the jester's characteristics was a weakness for getting tipsy. He was
possessed of an unquenchable thirst, which he never lost an opportunity
of satisfying.

Knowing his peculiarity, some youthful pages in the train of the
nobleman were minded to have some amusement at his expense, and they
therefore led him to a cellar in which stood a large vat filled with
fragrant wine. And there for a time they left him.

The jester was delighted at the propinquity of his favourite beverage
and decided that he would always remain in the cellar, regaling himself
with the vintage. His thirst increased at the prospect, so he produced
a gimlet, bored a hole in the vat, and drank and drank till at length he
could drink no more; then the fumes of the wine overcame him and he sank
down in a drunken stupor. Meanwhile the merry little stream flowed from
the vat, covered the floor of the cellar, and rose ever higher.

The pages waited at the top of the stairs, listening for the bursts of
merriment which were the usual accompaniments of the jester's drinking
bouts; but all was silent as the grave. At last they grew uneasy and
crept below in a huddled group. The fool lay quite still, submerged
beneath the flood. He had been drowned in the wine.

The joke now seemed a sorry one, but the pages consoled themselves with
the thought that, after all, death had come to the jester in a welcome
guise.

The Passing Bells

There is a legend connected with the town of Speyer in which poetic
justice is meted out to the principal characters, although not until
after they have died.

The tale concerns itself with the fate of the unfortunate monarch Henry
IV. History relates that Henry was entirely unfit to wear the ermine,
but weak as he was, and ignominious as was his reign, it was a bitter
blow that his own son was foremost among his enemies. At first the
younger Henry conspired against his father in secret; outwardly he was
a model of filial affection, so that he readily prevailed upon the weak
monarch to appoint him as his successor. After that, however, he openly
joined himself to his father's foes; and when the Pope excommunicated
the monarch, gradually the Emperor