THE POPE’S MULE 55

eau Neuf—and he would sip it little by
little, gazing affectionately at his vines.
Then, when the bottle was empty and
the daylight fading, he returned joy-
ously to the city, followed by his whole
conclave, and as he rode over the
bridge amidst the drums and dancing,
his mule, excited by the music, ambled
with little leaps and bounds, whilst he
beat time to the music with his hand,
which greatly shocked the cardinals,
but only made the people cry, ‘What
a good prince! What a jolly Pope!’

Next to his vineyard at Chateau
Neuf what the Pope loved best in the
world was his mule. The good man
was deeply attached to her. Every
night before going to bed he went to
see that her stable was properly shut
and that her rack and manger were
full. He never left the dinner-table
without having a large bowl filled
before his own eyes with French wine
and spices and lots of sugar, which he