good father hath his wits about him, that is all," said Pannartz.

"Ay," said Sweynheim, "and with those wits would he could tell us how to
get this tired beast to the next town."

"Yea," said Sweynheim, "and where to find money to pay for his meat and
ours when we get there."

"I will try," said Clement. "Free the mule of the cart, and of all
harness but the bare halter."

This was done, and the animal immediately lay down and rolled on his
back in the dust like a kitten. Whilst he was thus employed, Clement
assured them he would rise up a new mule.

"His Creator hath taught him this art to refresh himself, which the
nobler horse knoweth not. Now, with regard to money, know that a worthy
Englishman hath entrusted me with a certain sum to bestow in charity.
To whom can I better give a stranger's money than to strangers? Take it,
then, and be kind to some Englishman or other stranger in his need; and
may all nations learn to love one another one day."

The tears stood in the honest workmen's eyes. They took the money with
heartfelt thanks.

"It is your nation we are bound to thank and bless, good father, if we
but knew it."

"My nation is the Church."

Clement was then for bidding them farewell, but the honest fellows
implored him to wait a little; they had no silver nor gold, but they had
something they could give their benefactor, They took the press out of
the cart, and while Clement fed the mule, they hustled about, now on the
white hot road, now in the deep cool shade, now half in and half out,
and presently printed a quarto sheet of eight pages, which was already
set up. They had not type enough to print two sheets at a time. When,
after the slower preliminaries, the printed sheet was pulled all in a
moment, Clement was amazed in turn.

"What, are all these words really fast upon the paper?" said he. "Is it
verily certain they will not go as swiftly as they came? And you took
me for a magician! 'Tis 'Augustine de civitate Dei.' My sons, you carry
here the very wings of knowledge. Oh, never abuse this great craft!
Print no ill books! They would fly abroad countless as locusts, and lay
waste men's souls."

The workmen said they would sooner put their hands under the screw than
so abuse their goodly craft.

And so they parted.

There is nothing but meeting and parting in this world.

At a town in Tuscany the holy friar had a sudden and strange recontre
with the past. He fell in with one of those motl