a bushel. The peas and beans turned out well too, and flax and hemp had not turned out well; on the other hand again, the olives and tallow or suet had: so that all in all, the remarkable condition of things came about that society was well supplied with food and drink, scantily clad, and then again well lighted. So the year came summarily to a close, and every one was justly curious to experience how the new year would come in. The winter showed itself a proper regular winter, cold and clear; a warm covering of snow lay upon the fields and protected the young seed. But nevertheless a singular thing took place at last. It snowed, thawed, and froze again during the month of January, in so frequent alternation that not only did many people fall sick, but also there came to be such a multitude of icicles that the whole country looked like a huge glass magazine, and every one wore a small board on the head in order not to be pricked by the points of the falling icicles. For the rest, the prices of staples still remained firm, as above remarked, and fluctuated at last towards a remarkable spring."

At this point the little old man came eagerly running in, seized the sheet, and without reading what had been written and without saying a word, he wrote straight on:

"Then he came, and was called Adam Litumlei. He wouldn't stand a joke, and was born anno 17—. He came rushing along like a spring storm. He was one of Those. He wore a red velvet coat, with a feather in his hat, and a sword. He wore a gold-embroidered waistcoat, with the motto 'Youth hath no virtue!' He wore golden spurs and rode upon a white charger; this he stabled at the best inn, and cried, 'What the devil do I care? for it is spring, and youth must sow its wild oats!' He paid cash for everything, and every one marveled at him. He drank the wine, he ate the roast; he said, 'All this amounts to nothing!' Further he said, 'Come, my lovely darling, thou art more to me than wine and roasts, than silver and gold! What do I care? Think what thou wilt, what must be must be!'»

Here he suddenly came to a standstill and positively could get no further. They read together what had been written, found it was not bad, and spent eight days pulling themselves together again,- during which time they led a dissipated life, for they went frequently to the beer-house in order to get a new start; but fortune did not smile every day. Finally John caught another thread, ran home, and continued:

:

"These words the young Mr. Litumlei addressed to a certain Liselein Federspiel, who lived in a remote quarter of the city, where the gardens are, and just beyond is a little wood or grove. She was one of the most charming beauties the city had ever produced, with blue eyes and small feet. Her figure was so fine that she didn't need a corset; and out of the money thus saved, for she was poor, she was enabled little by little to buy a violetcolored silk gown. But all this was enhanced by a general sadness that trembled not only over her lovely features but over the whole harmony of Miss Federspiel's form, so that whenever the wind was still you might believe you heard the mournful tones of an Eolian harp. A very memorable May month had now come, into which all four seasons seemed to be compressed. At first there was snow, so that the nightingales sang with snowflakes on their heads as if they wore white nightcaps; then followed such a hot spell that the children went bathing in the open air and the cherries ripened, and the records have preserved a rhyme about it:

'Ice and snowflake,

Boys bathe in the lake,

Cherries ripe and blossoming vine,

All in one May month might be thine.

"These natural phenomena made men meditative and affected them in different ways. Miss Liselein Federspiel, who was especially pensive, speculated about it too, and realized for the first time that she bore her weal and woe, her virtue and her fall, in her own hand; and because she now held the scales and weighed this responsible freedom, was just why she became so sad about it. Now as she stood there, that audacious red-jacket came along and said without delay, 'Federspiel, I love thee!' whereupon by a singular accident she suddenly altered her previous line of thought and broke out into ringing laughter."

"Now let me go on," cried the old man, who came running up in a great heat and read over the young man's shoulder. "It's just right for me now!" and he continued the story as follows: "There's nothing to laugh at!' said he, for I don't take a joke!' In short, it came about as it had to come: on the hill in the little wood sat my Federspiel on the green sward and kept on laughing; but the knight had already mounted his white horse and was flying away into the distance so fast that in a few

minutes, in the aerial perspective that took place, he appeared blue. He vanished, returned no more; for he was a devil of a fellow!"

"Ha, now it's done!" shouted Litumlei, as he threw down the pen; "I've done my part, now bring it to a conclusion. I am completely exhausted by these hellish inventions! By the Styx! I don't wonder that the ancestors of great houses are valued so highly and are painted life-size, for I know what trouble the founding of mine costs! But haven't I given the thing bold treatment?

John then proceeded:

"Poor Miss Federspiel experienced great dissatisfaction when she suddenly noticed that the seductive youth had vanished at the same time almost with the remarkable May month. But she had the presence of mind quickly to declare herself that the occurrence had not occurred, in order to restore the former condition of equally balanced scales. But she enjoyed this epilogue of innocence only a short time. The summer came; they began to reap; it was yellow before one's eyes wherever one looked, from all the golden bounty; prices sank again materially; Liselein Federspiel stood on the hill and looked at it all; but she could see nothing for very grief and remorse. Autumn came; every wine-stock was a flowing spring; there was an incessant drumming on the earth from the falling pears and apples; people drank and sang, bought and sold. Every one supplied himself; the whole country was a fair; and cheap and abundant as everything was, luxuries were nevertheless prized and cherished and thankfully accepted. Only the luxury that Liselein brought remained unvalued and not worth asking about, as if the human hordes that were swimming in superfluity could not find use for one single little mouth more. She therefore wrapped herself in her virtue and bore, a month before her time, a lively little boy whose condition in life was in every way calculated to make him the smith of his own fortune.

"This son passed so bravely through a very varied career that by a strange fate he was finally united with his father, brought up by him in honor, and made his heir; and this is the second ancestor of the race of Litumlei.”

"Examined and

Under this document the old man wrote: confirmed, Johann Polycarpus Adam Litumlei." And John signed it likewise. Then Mr. Litumlei put his seal upon it with the

coat-of-arms, consisting of three half fish-hooks golden, in a field blue, and seven square brook-stilts white and red, on a green bar sinister.

But they were surprised that the document was no larger; for they had written scarcely one sheet full of the whole quire. Nevertheless, they deposited it in the archives, to which purpose they devoted for the present an old iron chest; and they were contented and in good spirits.

Translated by Charles Harvey Genung.

THOMAS À KEMPIS

(1380-1471)

BY JOHN MALONE

NA little nook with a little book." Good old monk of the

peaceful Holland lowlands, how well you knew the best delight of man! Your own "little book" survives to us, an imperishable witness of the truth and love that lived in your gentle. heart! Next to the Bible, the 'Imitation of Christ' of Thomas à Kempis is the book most generally read by Christian people. Of the making of books, of the love for them, and of the joy a good book gives to the children of the world, Thomas knew the full glory.

Kempen, a rustic village not many miles northwest of Düsseldorf in Rhenish Prussia, was so named in old time from the flatness of the country, the campus. The parents of Thomas were very humble working-people of this place; and the family name of Hämmerken is attributed to the father's probable position as a worker in metal. Thomas Hämmerken, sometimes called Haemmerlein, or in Latin Malleolus, the "little hammer," was born to John and Gertrude in 1380, and was carefully schooled in virtue, patience, and poverty under their low roof-tree; until at the age of thirteen he was, according to the custom of the time, sent to try his way to a religious life. His brother John, fifteen years older, had made the name À Kempis a distinguished one amongst the "Brothers of the Common Life," a house of Augustinian Canons Regular at Deventer in Overyssel, lower Netherlands. The chivalry of the lowly in those ages of faith expressed itself with gracious hospitality to all "poor scholars"; and we may be sure the boy who walked the long road down to the brink of the Zuyder Zee met no stint of God-speeds from the country folk. But brother John had gone from Deventer to join Gerard Groot at Windesheim, so away trudged the sturdy little wayfarer to the new journey's end. Fondly welcomed there, he took a letter from John to Florentius at Deventer. Under the wise direction of this great man the little À Kempis entered the public school, then under the rectorship of John Boheme. While studying there the usual course of reading, writing, music, Latin, catechism, and Bible history, Thomas lived at the house of a pious lady, Zedera, widow of a knight, John of Runen.

From about 1393-4 Thomas continued in the work of ordinary school life under the care of Florentius, who was the most dear