of hay has already been driven out of the Father Arch-presbyter."
"I am very pleased," I said, "to hear such good news, but tell me the story more fully."
It appeared that the Arch-priest, who owned a two-storeyed house, had lain down, when he came home at a window under which there was a gate-way, and at that very moment a cartload of hay had driven into it, and he, in his fuzzled sleepy state, imagined that it had driven into his inside. It is incredible, nevertheless it was so; "credo, quia absurdum."
How was this miracle-worker saved?
Also by a miracle—he would not consent to rise on any account, because he had a cartload of hay in his inside. The physician could find no remedy for this malady. Then a sorceress was called in. She twisted and turned about, tapped him here and there, and ordered a cart to be loaded with hay and driven out of the yard; the sick man imagined it had emerged from his inside, and recovered.
Well, after this you could do what you liked for him; but he had done for himself: he had amused the good people, he had summoned a sorceress and had profited by her idolatrous enchantments. Here such things could not be hidden under a bushel, but were proclaimed on
