“Then, the poor creature has been at times imposed on in a manner which might excuse resentment. In ancient Rome, for instance, on sacred days all labor was forbidden, with the exception of some certain kinds considered necessary. ‘Quippe etiam festis quædam exercere diebus Fas et jura sinunt.’[30] “The works allowed were setting traps for birds which were hurtful, ordering the trenches which irrigated the fields, and some few others of like kind. To the rustics, permission was granted to carry their farm produce to market on sacred days, and they also might bring a load back. This was allowed them in order that this business might not interrupt them on working-days. Now, a _load_ with them necessarily demanded an ass; consequently the ass knew no sacred day, no day of rest from his burdens, and _such_ loads, Mynheer von Steufle! ‘Sæpe oleo tardi costas agitator aselli Vilibus aut oneras pomis; lapidemque revertans Incusum,’ etc.[31] “Oil, cheap fruits, millstones, black pitch! Ah! _mein lieber Freund_ what a load! I hardly believe they prefer thistles to grass, as some say, but they will subsist on one-third of what is required by a horse under all this labor.” Jans looked at him ruefully and incredulous: “Some may--some of them may--but I count Jack two horses at the least. He must have been eating all night, for he had enough put before him; and to-day, why, you’d think he hadn’t seen a corn-husk in a month. He ate apples and cauliflowers, and a peck of peas, and--and--” The Frau von Steufle supplemented the catalogue of enormities. “All my roses, thorns and all, and Katrina von Dyke’s beautiful tulips that she had just sold, and my tallest bouquet, the one that was engaged for the grand altar. O dear! what will they do? Then he chewed up a nice bonnet, and he overset the things! Dear me, so much mischief! Ah me!” “Yes, yes,” said Jans, “it is well to say, ah me! Look at the bills that will come in to-morrow!” “Truly,” said the herr in a tone of commiseration, “it is surprising. It was not to be expected! Yet we must look at the best of it. Horace says: ‘Nemo adeo ferus est, ut nom mitiscere possit Si modo culturæ patientem commodet aurem.’”[32] “I know not what that may mean, Mein Herr von Heine,” said Jans, “nor do I know the Herr Horace; but I wish, if he wants a donkey, he would take mine. I wish he had him.” The herr was silenced. Morning came, and with it a heavy bill to Jans von Steufle for damages done by a certain donkey, who did kick, bite, tear, trample on, and devour a long list of things belonging to a long list of persons. Evening came, and with it came a lad, halter in hand, which he quietly knotted round Jackey’s neck, and led him away, looking as solemn and as amiable as when he first arrived. FOOTNOTES: [14] Sourkrout. [15] Sausage. [16] Cream-cheese. [17] Roast-beef. [18] Stewed meat. [19] Bed-quilts. [20] Bed-linen. [21] The hall where lectures are mostly delivered.