sincere
affection, presented himself to his sight, and was not only seen by him,
but heard also; nay, what is more, he came to his house and blessed his
family.

One of the sons of the prophets in Israel felling would near the river
Jordan, his hatchet forsook the helve and fell to the bottom of the river;
so he prayed to have it again ('twas but a small request, mark ye me), and
having a strong faith, he did not throw the hatchet after the helve, as
some spirits of contradiction say by way of scandalous blunder, but the
helve after the hatchet, as you all properly have it. Presently two great
miracles were seen: up springs the hatchet from the bottom of the water,
and fixes itself to its old acquaintance the helve. Now had he wished to
coach it to heaven in a fiery chariot like Elias, to multiply in seed like
Abraham, be as rich as Job, strong as Samson, and beautiful as Absalom,
would he have obtained it, d'ye think? I' troth, my friends, I question it
very much.

Now I talk of moderate wishes in point of hatchet (but harkee me, be sure
you don't forget when we ought to drink), I will tell you what is written
among the apologues of wise Aesop the Frenchman. I mean the Phrygian and
Trojan, as Max. Planudes makes him; from which people, according to the
most faithful chroniclers, the noble French are descended. Aelian writes
that he was of Thrace and Agathias, after Herodotus, that he was of Samos;
'tis all one to Frank.

In his time lived a poor honest country fellow of Gravot, Tom Wellhung by
name, a wood-cleaver by trade, who in that low drudgery made shift so to
pick up a sorry livelihood. It happened that he lost his hatchet. Now
tell me who ever had more cause to be vexed than poor Tom? Alas, his whole
estate and life depended on his hatchet; by his hatchet he earned many a
fair penny of the best woodmongers or log-merchants among whom he went
a-jobbing; for want of his hatchet he was like to starve; and had death but
met with him six days after without a hatchet, the grim fiend would have
mowed him down in the twinkling of a bedstaff. In this sad case he began
to be in a heavy taking, and called upon Jupiter with the most eloquent
prayers--for you know necessity was the mother of eloquence. With the
whites of his eyes turned up towards heaven, down on his marrow-bones, his
arms reared high, his fingers stretched wide, and his head bare, the poor
wretch without ceasing was roaring out, by way of litan