oy gave way to another passionate burst of grief.
The Franciscan endeavored to soothe him, and talked of submission to
Providence; but finding he could do no good he inquired the name of the
village.

"Montalto," replied the boy, sulkily.

"Montalto? Then in what direction lies Ascoli?"

"Are you going to Ascoli?" demanded the hog-boy, suddenly, as he fixed a
pair of blazing eyes on the Franciscan's face in a manner that made him
start. "I will show you the way," continued he, in a tone of as much
decision as if he spoke of some mighty enterprise; and leaping to his feet
like a boy made of India-rubber, he led through the scrubby wood of the
common, kicking the hogs aside with a fierceness that drew a remonstrance
from the good father. This seemed to have the desired effect. His manner
softened instantaneously. He spoke in a mild, low voice; answered the
questions that were addressed to him with modesty and good-sense; and
astonished the Franciscan by a display of intelligence rare enough even
where natural abilities are developed by education. It was in vain,
however, that he reminded his young companion that it was time for him to
turn; the hog-boy seemed fascinated by the father's conversation, and
always made some excuse for accompanying him a little further.

"Come, my son," said the Franciscan at length, "this must have an end, and
here we part. There is a little trifle which I give you with my blessing,
and so God speed you!"

"I am going further," replied the boy, quickly.

"What! to Ascoli?"

"Ay, to Ascoli--or to the end of the earth! Ah, father, if you would but
get me something to do--for I am sure you can if you will; any drudgery,
however humble--any thing in the world but tending hogs!"

"You forget my profession, my son, and that I am powerless out of it. You
would not become a monk yourself?"

"A monk! Oh! wouldn't I? Only try me!"

"To be a monk is to toil, watch, and pray; to live meagrely, to submit to
innumerable hardships--"

"And to learn, father! to read--to think! O, what would I not submit to for
the sake of knowing what there is in books!" The boy spoke with
enthusiasm, and yet with nothing of the coarse impetuosity which had at
first almost terrified his new acquaintance. The Franciscan thought he
beheld in him the elements of a character well adapted for a religious
order; and after some further conversation, he finally consented to take
the stripling with him to Ascoli. They we