The progressive farmer. [volume] (Winston, N.C.) 1886-1904, 1889-09-24

of Tzirst-How the Spell Was
Broken at Last.
There is in Italy a fountain over winch
9 the statue of a beggar drinking at a
snrino. It is called the Beggars Foun-
tom " and this is its story: Once upon a
tina there lived, so says the legend, a very
nroud and naughty man, who hated the
poor and set himself above all the world
who were not as wealthy and Well-dreSsed
as himself, aid his want OF charity was SO
GREAT that it had become proverolal,, ana
2 beqgar would no more have thought OF
asking bread at his gate than OF asking
him for all his fortune. -.
However, there was a spring on his
land. a sweet spring OF cold water. n as
# was the only one for niles many a
wavfarer paused to drink of it, but never
was permitted to do so. A servant, well
armed. was kept upon the watch to drive
such persons away.
Now. there never had been known be-
fore aov one 20 avaricious as to refuse a
CUP of cold water to his fellow-man, and
the angels, talking amongst each other,
could not believe it; and one of them said
to the rest:
at is impossible for any but Satan
himself. | will go to earth and prove
that it is not true"
And so the fair and holy angel dis
guised herself as a beggar-woman, COW
cred her golden hair with a black hood,
and chose the moment when the master
of the house was himself standing near
the spring to come slowly up the road,
walking over the stones with bare feet,
and to pause beside the fountain and
humbly ask for a draught of its sweet
wafer.
Instantly the servant who guarded the
spot interposed the pike he carried, but
the angel, desiring to take news of a good
deed, not of an evil one, back to heaven
turned to the master himself.
"Sir," she said, 81 am, as you see, a
wanderer from afar. See how poor my
garments are, how stained with travel.
1t is not surely at your bidding that your
servant forbids me to drink. And ever
if it is, l pray you bid him let me alone,
for I am very thirsty"
The rich man looked at her with scorn
full eyes and laughed contemptuously.
"This is not a public fountain, he said.
"You will find one in the next village"
"The way is long," pleaded the angel,
and | am a woman, and but weak"
"Drive her away" said the rich man,
and as he spoke the beggar turned; but
on the instant her black hood dropped
from her head and revealed floods of rip
pling golden hair-her unseemly rags fell
to the ground-and the shining robes
that angels wear shone in their place.
For a moment she lowered, poised on
purple wings, with her hands folded on
her bosom and an ineffable sweetness of
sorrow in her eyes. Then, with a gush
of music and a flood of perfume, she
vanished.
The servant fell to the earth like n
dead. The rich man trembled and cried
out, for he knew that he had forbidden a
cup of cold water to an angel, and horror
possessed his soul.
Almost instantly, also, a terrible thirst
fell upon him which nothing could as
Suage. In vain he drank wines, sherbets,
of all pleasing kinds. Nothing could
Stake his thirst. The sweet water OF the
spring was salter to him than the sea. He
who never in his life had known an I'M
gratiied desire, now experienced the tor
ture of an eVer-uasatisfed longing; but
through this misery he began to under
stand what he had done. He reoented
his cruelty to the poor. Aims were given
daily at his gate. Charity was the bust
ness Of his life. The fountain was no
longer guarded, and near it hung ever a
cup ready for any one who chose to use
1t. But the curse-if curse it were-was
never lifted.
The rich man-young when the angel
visited him-grew middle aged, elderly.
old, still tortured by this awful thirst,
despite his praye, IS and repentance, He
had gwen away his substance; he had
hlmselt broken bread for the most miser-
able beggars who came to his door.
And at eighty years of age, bowed with
infrmity and weary of his life, he sat one
day beside the fountain weeping. And
10! along the road he saw approaching a
beggar-woman, hooded in black, wearing
Soiled rags, and walking over the stones
with her bare feet Slowly she came on
and paused beside the fountain.
May l drink2" she asked.
There are none to forbid thee" said
the old man, trembling. Drink, poor
woman. Once an angel was forbidden
here, but that time has passed. Drink
and pray for one athirst. Here is the
cup"
The woman bent over the founta n and
2led the cup; but instead of putting it to
aer own lips she presented it to those of
the old man.
Drink then," she cried, "and thirst
no more!"-
= me old man took the cup and emptied
On, blessed draughtl With it the
~ boiture OF years departed, and as he drank
: praised Heaven. And lifting up his
Ayes once more he saw the beggar's hood
Mp 70 the ground and her rags fall to
pieces. For a moment she stood revealed