146 The Brothers of Goschenen.' 



door, throwing himself back in his chair and turning the soles of his 

 rough sandals to the fire. " Montepulciano d'ogni vino e il re. 

 " Crown him, vassals loyal ; 

 Let his sceptre royal 



Be the wine tree's stem 

 And many a drooping cluster, 

 With its greeny lustre, 



Bind his diadem." 



And his soft manly voice warbled back lingeringly over the refrain, 

 which I have endeavoured to translate 



" And many a drooping cluster, 

 With its greeny lustre, 

 Bind his diadem." 



" Ha, good Padre/'said I, " you at least do not seem to be of the 

 opinion that the seven deadly sins are lurking in this little flask/' 



" No," said he, " neither in the savoury dish nor the racy wine cup. 

 It is a proverb of your country that God sends meat and the devil 

 sends cooks. God gives the grape, and the devil te aches us how to 

 make wine of it. Corpo di Bacco the man who would denounce 

 these, only because he likes them and was made to like them, deserves 

 neither the one nor the other. He might as well close up his win- 

 dows with stone and lime, lest he should enjoy the glorious sun, or 

 shut his eyes when he goes out, lest he should see the spring flowers." 



" Spoken like a true epicure," said I. 



" And a good Christian, I trust," said the Capuchin. 



" Nay, I doubt it not," said I. " I think with you, that there is not 

 a whit more virtue in a boiled potato than in pate des Alouettes aux 

 truffes, in spring water than in Montepulciano ; that is, in modera- 

 tion. But " 



"To be sure in moderation. Let a man consult his stomach, 

 however, and he will not need to regulate his table by his Breviary." 



" But I was going to say," added I, " that this is hardly consistent 

 with your peculiar profession. Pates and wine-flasks seem quite as 

 likely to lead to luxury as a shirt or a pair of stockings." 



" True true," said he, mournfully, as he glanced at his robe of 

 brown serge with its knotted hempen girdle, and his bare feet appear- 

 ing through the open sandals. u True !" and he sighed deeply. 



There was a long pause, and I regretted the levity which had 

 prompted my remark. 



" Why I am what I am, my good Sir," he said at last, turning to- 

 wards me with a melancholy smile, "would be a long tale to 

 tell, and I have not the heart to begin it. Let us change the subject. 

 I have seen much in these forty years ; and as I have sung you a "song, 

 I will tell you a story about the valley of the Reuss you mentioned 

 lately, should you feel inclined to listen." 



I readily acquiesced, although curious to know something about 

 the personal history of my evening acquaintance. I saw I had some- 

 how or other hurt the feelings of the old man, and as his mode of 

 dashing off on another scent showed by its very abruptness a deter- 

 mination not to permit the conversation to relate to himself, I merely 

 filled the glasses, and inclined my head in token of assent, while the 

 Capuchin proceeded. 



