WISDOM’S WAGES AND FOLLY’S PAY

two hundred pennies that the cook had given him for
curing his wife.

The wise man made a cross upon the woman’s fore-
head, and up she sat, as well—-but no better—as
before.

“ And now be off,” said the cook, ‘or I will call the
servants and give you both a drubbing for a pair of
scamps,”

Simon Agricola said never a word until they had gotten
out of the town. There his anger boiled over, like water
into the fire. ‘‘ Look,” said he to Babo: “ ‘Born a fool,
live a fool, die a fool.’ I want no more of you. Here
are two roads ; you take one, and I will take the other.”

“What!” said Babo, ‘am I to travel the rest of the
way alone? And then, besides, how about the fortune
you promised me ?”

“Never mind that,” said Simon Agricola; “I have not
made my own fortune yet.”

‘Well, at least pay me something for my wages,” said
Babo.

“ How shall I pay you?” said Simon Agricola. “I
have not a single groat in the world.”

“What!” said Babo, “have you nothing to give me?”

“T can give you a piece of advice.”

“Well,” said Babo, ‘that is better than nothing, so let
me have it.”

“Here it is,” said Simon Agricola: ‘‘ Think well!
think well!—before you do what you are about to do,
think well !’”

“Thank you!” said Babo; and then the one went one
way, and the other the other. ;

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