[Sidenote: Carmen ccxix, ed. Quercet.] Alcuin afterwards made this ivory comb the subject of a poetic riddle:— A beast has sudden come to this my house, A beast of wonder, who two heads has got, And yet the beast has only one jaw-bone. Twice three times ten of horrid teeth it has. Its food grows always on this body of mine, Not flesh, not fruit. It eats not with its teeth, Drinks not. Its open mouth shows no decay. Tell me, Damoeta dear, what beast is this? We can imagine the beauty of this ivory comb, with one row of sixty teeth,[245] the solid piece at the top being ornamented with a lion’s head at each end looking outwards. A hundred years later, the comb, if made in Northumbria, might have had a ridged top, with two bears’ heads, the muzzles looking inwards. It was, no doubt, this beautiful comb that played a large part in the miracles wrought by Alcuin after his death, as described at page 49. Considering the frequent passings to and fro across the Alps in Alcuin’s time by Karl, and, indeed, by Alcuin himself, and the coming and going between Salzburg, Arno’s see, and Gaul, we should have expected more reference to the hardships of the way than we find in the letters of Alcuin. In writing to Remedius or Remigius, the Bishop of Chur, or Coire, a place very well known now, he makes no reference to any difficulty in reaching the city. It was, as we know, a place of considerable importance, and it possesses to this day some very interesting Carolingian charters. The only local allusion which Alcuin makes in his various letters to Remedius informs us of the heavy tolls charged by those who held the passes, a matter about which our King Canute spoke so strongly to the Pope. [Sidenote: Ep. 213.] “By this letter I commend to your fatherly protection this merchant of ours, who is conveying merchandise to Italy. Let him have safe passage over the roads of your land in going and in returning. And in the defiles of the mountains let him not be troubled by your officers of custom, but by the freedom of your charity let him have free passage.” The inconsiderable references which we do find to the difficulties of the way come chiefly in the addresses of his letters. Thus he addresses a letter to Arno, Archbishop of Salzburg, in these words:— [Sidenote: Ep. 91.] “To the eagle that flies across the Alps; goes swiftly over the plains; stalks through the cities; a humble inhabitant of the earth sends greeting.” [Sidenote: Ep. 129.] “To Paulinus, Patriarch of Aquileia. “Four friends send greeting across the waters of the Alps in a ship laden with love.” [Sidenote: Ep. 200.] “To Peter, Archbishop of Milan. “O that I had the wings of an eagle, that I might fly across the heights of the Alps swifter than the winds.” In his _Life of Willibrord_,[246] cap. xxxii, he says:— “The Alps of St. Maurice are exalted more felicitously by the blood of the Theban saints than by the height of their snows.”