“But then Rubaconte did an even wiser thing, for he determined to have a new bridge built in place of the old one, and hence came the Ponte alle Grazie, ‘of which he himself laid the first foundation-stone, and carried the first basket of mortar, with all due civic ceremony, in 1236.’ {82} “But as it is said, ‘he who has drunk once will drink again,’ it came to pass that Bagnai had to appear once more as accused before the Podestà. One day he met a man whose donkey had fallen and could not rise. ’Twas on the Ponte Vecchio. “The owner seized the donkey by the head, Bagnai caught him by the tail, and pulled so hard that the tail came off! “Then the contadino or _asinaio_ had Bagnai brought before the Podestà, and claimed damages for his injured animal. And Rubaconte decided that Bagnai should keep the ass in his stable, and feed him well—until the tail had grown again. “As may be supposed, the _asinaio_ preferred to keep his ass himself, and go no farther in the case.” * * * * * This ancient tale recalls that of Zito, the German magician conjuror, whose leg was pulled off. It is pretty evident that the donkey’s tail had been glued on for the occasion. I may here add something relative to the folk-lore of bridges, which is not without interest. I once asked a witch in Florence if such a being as a spirit of the water or one of bridges and streams existed; and she replied: “Yes, there is a spirit of the water as there is of fire, and everything else. They are rarely seen, but you can make them appear. _How_? Oh, easily enough, but you must remember that they are capricious, and appear in many delusive forms. {83} “And this is the way to see them. You must go at twilight and look over a bridge, or it will do if it be in the daytime in the woods at a smooth stream or a dark pool—_che sia un poco oscuro_—and pronounce the incantation, and throw a handful or a few drops of its water into the water itself. And then you must look long and patiently, always thinking of it for several days, when, _poco à poco_, you will see dim shapes passing by in the water, at first one or two, then more and more, and if you remain quiet they will come in great numbers, and show you what you want to know. But if you tell any one what you have seen, they will never appear again, and it will be well for you should nothing worse happen. “There was a young man at Civitella in the Romagna Toscana, and he was in great need of money. He had lost an uncle who was believed to have left a treasure buried somewhere, but no one knew where it was. Now this nephew was a reserved, solitary youth, always by himself in lone places, among ruins or in the woods—_un poco streghon_—a bit of a wizard, and he learned this secret of looking into streams or lakes, till at last, whenever he pleased, he could see swarms of all kinds of figures sweeping along in the water.