when it was warm. He was a good man, fearing God and very devout to the Holy Virgin.
He never failed, when he went into a church, to kneel before the image of the Mother of God and to address to her this prayer:
"Madame, take care of my life until it may please God that I shall die, and when I die let?ne have the joys of paradise."
One night, after a day of rain, while he was walking, sad and bent, carrying under his arm his balls and his knives hidden in his old carpet, and seeking for a barn where he might go to bed, without supper, he saw on the road a monk who was going the same way, and bowed to him courteously. As they were walking together they exchanged ideas.
"Friend," said the monk, "how is it that you are dressed in green? Is it to play the personage of a clown in some mystery-play?"
"No, father," replied Barnabas, "such as I am, I am Barnabas, and ray trade is that of a juggler. It would be the most beautiful trade in the world if one in it could eat every day."
"Friend Barnabas," said the monk, "be careful of what you are saying. There is no more beautiful trade than the monastic one. In it are