The Florida agriculturist. [volume] (DeLand, Fla.) 1878-1911, 1885-03-11
Pope Boniface's Mule.

Pope Boniface's Mule.
He has seen nothing who never saw
Avignon in the time of the Popes. From
morning to evening there were process
sions, pilgrimages, streets strewn with
flowers and hung with tapestries; Car
dinals arriving by the Rhone, banners
floating on the wind, galleys dressed
with flags, the Pope's soldiers singing in
Latin on the squares, the rattles of the
mendicant friars; then from one end to
the other, noises which crowded around
the great Papal Palace like bees around
their hive. There was, besides, the tic
tao of the lace-makers, the come-and-go
of the shuttles weaving the gold of the
chasubles, the little hammers of the sill
versmiths making vessels, the trying of
the sounding boards at the instrument
makers, the songs of the loom-tenders,
from above the sound of bells, and al
WAYS from below the tambourines sound
ing i'll the direction of the bridge. For
with us, when the people are happy, they
must dance, they must dance; and as at
this time the city streets were too mar
row for the farandale, fifers and tam
bourine-players posted themselves on
the bridge of Avignon, in the fresh
breezes of the Rhone, and day and night
the people danced-ah happy time
happy city Halberds which would not
cut, State prisons where they put the
wine to cool! No poverty, no war That
is the way that the Popes of the Comtat
governed their people; that is why their
people have always so regretted them.
There was one above all, good old
man called Boniface. He was such an
amiable, such handsome prince; he
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mules back, and when you passed near
him-whether you were poor little mad
der gatherer or a great city magistrate
he gave you his benediction so politely.
A true Pope of Yvetor, with something
shrewd in his laugh, sprig of sweet
marjoram in his bareita, andnot the sus-
picion of any favorftism. The onlysfav-
orite the good father ever had was his
vineyard-a little place which he had
planted himself, three leagues from
Avignon, among the myrtles of Chateau
neuf.
Every Sunday, when vespers were over
the worthy man went to look after it,
and when he was up there, seated in the
warm sun, his cardinals stretched about
among the tree stumps, he had fiagon
of new wine opened, that beautiful ruby
wine which has ever since been called
the Pope's Chateauneuf, and he drank it
in little sips, looking tenderly at his vines.
Then, when the fiagon was emptied and
the day declining, he returned cheerfully'
to the city, followed by his chapter and
when he passed over the bridge of Avig-
non, in the midst of the tambourines and
the farandoles, his mule, excited by the
music, took little frisky amble, while
he himself marked the dance-step with
oh 1oli 20,
Cardinals. but made all the people cry
"Ah what good Pope!"
Next to his vineyard at Chateauneuf
that which the Pope loved most in the
world was his mule. The good man was
passionately fond of this beast Every
evening before retiring he went to see if
her stable was securely fastened, or if
anything was wanting in her manger,
and he never rose from his table without
having big bowl of wine prepared UNI
der his own eyes in the French fashion,
with a quantity of sugar and spices,
which he carried to her himself, in spite
of the remarks of his Cardinals. 1t must
be acknowledged that the creature was
worth the trouble. She was a beautiful
black mule, spotted with red, with a sure
loot, shining coat, crupper broad and
tiat-carrying proudly here sharp little
head, harnessed with pompons, little
silver bells and ear-nots. She was more
sweet tempered than an angel, with a
quick eye, and two long ears always in
motion, which gave her good-natured
air. All Avignon respected her, and
when she went out in the streets there
were no courtesies which she did not re-
ceive, for everyone knew that this was
the surest way to stand we'll at Court.
and that with her innocent air the Pope's
mule had led more than one person to
fortune-Tistet Vedene for example.
This Tistet Nedene was a saucv bow
whom his father, Guy Vedene, the gold
chaser, had been forced to turn out of
his house because he would not work and
led astray the appendices. For six
months he was to be seen dragging his
jacket through all the cutters of Avignon
but chiefly in the neighborhood of the
Palace, for the sly fellow had for a long
time had his design on the Pope's mule
One day when his Holiness was riding
alone under the ramparts, behold nv
Tistet, who draws near and says to him.
clasping his hands with a look of admir-.
alton: "Ah, heavens? Most HOLY
Father, what fine mule you have there
Allow me to look at her moment. All