So, we were left galloping, Joris and I,

Past Looz and past Tongres, no cloud in the sky;
The broad sun above laughed a pitiless laugh,

'Neath our feet broke the brittle bright stubble like chaff; Till over by Dalhem a dome-spire sprang white,

And "Gallop," gasped Joris, "for Aix is in sight!"

"How they'll greet us!" - and all in a moment his roan
Rolled neck and croup over, lay dead as a stone;
And there was my Roland to bear the whole weight
Of the news which alone could save Aix from her fate,
With his nostrils like pits full of blood to the brim,
And with circles of red for his eye-sockets' rim.

Then I cast loose my buff coat, each holster let fall,
Shook off both my jack boots, let go belt and all,
Stood up in the stirrup, leaned, patted his ear,

Called my Roland his pet name, my horse without peer; Clapped my hands, laughed and sang, any noise, bad or good,

Till at length into Aix Roland galloped and stood.

As I sat with his head 'twixt my knees on the ground;
And no voice but was praising this Roland of mine,
As I poured down his throat our last measure of wine,
Which (the burgesses voted by common consent)

Was no more than his due who brought good news from

Ghent.

- Robert Browning.

OW Fayolles, the king of Numidia, sent from

Now

Africa a wonderful present to Grangousier, the father of Gargantua. It was the most hideously ugly mare that ever was seen, and of the strangest form. She was as big as six elephants, and had her feet cloven into toes, like Julius Cæsar's horse; and she had slouch-hanging ears like the goats in Languedoc. She was of a burnt sorrel hue, with a little mixture of dapple-gray spots; but above all, she had a horrible tail. It was as big as the church steeple at Saint Mark's, and was squared with tufts and hair pleats,

wrought within one another like the beards on the ears of corn.

And she was brought over in three sloops and a brigantine unto the harbor of Olone.

When Grangousier saw her, he cried out:

"Here is a beast that is fit to carry my son to Paris. So now, verily, all will be well. My son will one day be a great scholar. Were it not for dunces, we should all be doctors."

The next morning, therefore, they began their journey Gargantua, his schoolmaster, and their equipage; and with them was Eudenon, the young page. And because the weather was fair and temperate, Gargantua's father gave him a pair of duncolored boots some people call them buskins.

Thus, while journeying, they merrily enjoyed themselves. They made good cheer on the road, and were very joyful till they came to a forest, a little way above Orleans. This forest was five and thirty leagues long and nearly half as broad; and it was most horribly fertile and copious in horseflies, hornets, and wasps, being a very purgatory for the poor beasts that were compelled to travel through it. But Gargantua's mare did avenge herself handsomely of all the outrages that were committed upon her tender sides and flanks, and that by a trick whereof nobody had any suspicion. For, as soon as ever the fierce insects had begun the assault, she drew up her tail and therewith began to switch and skirmish; and she

not only destroyed the wasps and flies, but she overthrew all the wood along and athwart, here and there, this way and that way, longwise and sidewise, over and under.

As she walked along, with Gargantua upon her back, she did great havoc with whatever came in her way. Everywhere, she felled the wood with as much ease as a mower doth the grass; and for that reason all the country was reduced to a plain, open field; and from that day to this neither wasp nor fly can exist there. And Gargantua was so delighted with it all that he said to his schoolmaster only this and nothing more: "Je trouve beau ce," which means, "I find this pretty;" and for that reason the country hath ever since been called Beauce.

But all the breakfast the mare got that day was but a little yawning and gaping; in memory whereof the gentlemen of Beauce do as yet assuage their hunger with gaping, which they find to be very stimulating and healthful.

At last they came to Paris, and Gargantua, dismounting from his steed, found lodgings in a public house that faced upon a broad and very dirty street. There he refreshed himself for two or three days, making very merry with the schoolmaster and the page; and he diligently inquired about the great men that were then in the city, and what they ate and drank for he was desirous of becoming a scholar.

- Translated from the French of Rabelais.

But first, with nimble, active force,
He got on the outside of his horse;
For having but one stirrup tied
This saddle, on the further side,
It was so short he'd much ado
To reach it with his desperate toe.
But after many strains and heaves,
He got up to the saddle eaves,