THE STORY OF COLA.

A BLIND man of Orvieto, of the name of Cola, hit upon a device to recover a hundred florins he had been cheated of, which showed he was possessed of all the eyes of Argus, even though he had lost his own. And this he did, without wasting a farthing either upon law or arbitration, by sheer dexterity, for he had formerly been a barber, and accustomed to shave very close, having then all his eyes about him, which had been now closed for about thirty years. Alms seemed then the only resource to which he could betake himself, and such was the surprising progress he in a short time made in his new trade, that he soon amassed a considerable sum, which he secretly carried about him until he could find a safer place. His gains far surpassed anything he had realized with his razor and scissors; indeed, they increased so fast that he no longer knew where to bestow them, until

one morning happening to remain the last, as he believed, in the church, he thought of depositing a purse of a hundred florins, part of his gains, under a loose tile in the floor behind the door, knowing the situation of the place perfectly well. After listening for some time without hearing a foot stirring, he very cautiously laid it in the spot; but unluckily there remained a certain Juccio Pezzi-cheruolo, who happened to see Cola busily engaged behind the door. He waited until he saw the blind man depart, when, not in the least suspecting the truth, he approached and searched the place. He soon found the identical tile, and on removing it with the help of his knife, he found the purse, which he very quietly put into his pocket, replacing the tiles just as they were, and resolving to say nothing about it, he went home.

At the end of three days the blind mendicant, desirous of visiting his treasure, took a quiet time for visiting the place, and, removing the tile, searched a long while in great perturbation, but all in vain, to find his purse. At last, replacing things just as they were, he was compelled to return in no very enviable state of mind to his dwelling; and there meditating over his

loss, the harvest of the toil of so many days, by dint of intense thinking, a bright thought struck him, as frequently happens by cogitating in the dark, how he had yet a kind of chance of redeeming his lost spoils. Accordingly, in the morning he called his young guide, a lad about nine years old, saying, "My son, lead me to church!" and before setting out he tutored him how he was to behave, seating himself at his side before the entrance, and particularly remarking every person who should enter into the church. "Now if you happen to see any one who takes particular notice of me, and who either laughs or makes any sign, be sure you observe it, and tell me." The boy promised he would, and they proceeded accordingly and took their station before the church. There they remained the whole of the morning, till, just as they were beginning to despair, Juccio made his appearance, and, fixing his eyes upon the blind man, could not refrain from smiling. When the dinner-hour arrived, the father and son prepared to leave the place, the former inquiring by the way whether his son had observed any one looking hard at him as he passed along. "That I did," answered the lad, “but

only one, and he laughed as he went past us. I do not know his name, but he is strongly marked with the small pox, and lives somewhere near the Frati Minori." "Do you think, my dear lad," said his father, "you could take me to his shop, and tell me when you see him there?" "To be sure I could," said the lad. "Then come, let us lose no time,” replied his father; and when we are there, tell me, and while I speak to him, you can step on one side and wait for me." So the sharp little fellow led him along the way until he reached a cheesemonger's stall, when he acquainted his father, and brought him close to it. No sooner did the blind man hear him speaking with his customers, than he recognised him for the same Juccio with whom he had formerly been acquainted during his days of light. When the coast was a little clear, our blind hero entreated some moments' conversation, and Juccio took him on one side into a little room, saying, "Cola, friend, what good news?" "Why," said Cola, "I am come to consult you, in great hopes you will be of use to me. You know it is a long time since I lost my sight, and being in a destitute condition, I was compelled to earn

my subsistence by begging alms. Now, by the grace of God, and with the help of you, and of other good people of Orvieto, I have saved a sum of two hundred florins. One half I have deposited in a safe place, but if you would consent to receive and retain for me the whole sum of two hundred florins, it would be doing me a great kindness; only I wish you would say nothing about it, for then there would be an end of my calling, were it known I had collected so large a sum." Here the blind mendicant stopped, and the sly Juccio, imagining he might thus become master of the entire sum, said he should be very happy to serve him in every way he could, and would return an answer the next morning as to the best way of laying out the money. Cola then took his leave; while Juccio, going directly for the purse, deposited it in its old place, being in full expectation of soon receiving it again, with the addition of the other hundred, as he fancied that Cola had not yet missed the sum. The old mendicant, on his part, expected that he would do no less; and trusting that his plot might have succeeded, he set out the very same day to the church, and had the delight, on removing the tile, to