“No, that will never do, old gentleman; do you not know that wolves haunt these rocky heights, and would probably devour you in the night if you were left here by yourself and unarmed?” “Ah, a sweet death, my son, but, alas! wolves cannot harm me.” I looked at him in amazement as he uttered these words, but concluded the pain had made him somewhat delirious and wild in his talk. Then I took him in my strong young arms and carried him down the rugged path, halting every now and again to recover breath and rest my aching limbs; for, although my burden was but a bag of bones, still, on a rough mountain path, his weight began to tell before I had gone a mile, and I feared I should become exhausted long before we reached the village whither we were bound. Again and again I lifted the old man and carried him onward, but each time I noticed the distance was less than the previous effort had covered, and after struggling on for a couple of miles, I was forced to give in for a long spell of rest. We were now down upon the plain, and the sun was fast approaching the horizon, when my eye suddenly lighted upon an ox feeding in a little green hollow a couple of hundred yards off. Knowing that in Southern Europe oxen, to a great extent, take the place of horses, I approached it; feeling sure that if it were an ox broken to work, I could give my old friend a comfortable ride to the village upon its ample back. The animal stood and stared at me with its great soft eyes, and I stared back in return, but having no knowledge of the handling of cattle, I was at a loss to know what to do next. It was an intelligent-looking creature, so I coaxingly spoke to it in English, trusting that if its education had not been neglected it might understand that I meant it no harm. I took it by one of its horns, and, to my joy, the gentle beast was good enough to follow me; and as it did so I looked at its neck and could see where the yoke had galled it, by which I knew it was used for agricultural purposes. We soon got to understand each other, and when I lifted the old man on its back, and supported him there, the ox moved off quietly to the village, which we reached just as the light had passed through that stage which poets and learned men call crepuscular. We found a comfortable inn, and there I attended the old man for two or three days; but I must own my attention was not altogether due to philanthropic motives, as I spent much of each day in painting the grand old head of my patient. As I painted, so the old man talked; and I soon discovered he had a wonderful memory, especially for historic subjects: he appeared to have the history of Europe and Western Asia at his fingers’ ends. He would have made a splendid historian, for he could remember not only the chief events of the subject he happened to speak upon, but a great many of the minor details which go to make up an important episode in history.