s, or hear the news, supped at a
_trattoria_, and then returning home, sat all night listening to the
goblin as he played divinely on the horn, or blew it himself, which he
did extremely well, toped and hob-nobbed with his familiar, who was a
great critic of wine, and, as the proverb says, '_Buon vino fiaba
lunga_--Good wine, long tales'--they told one another no end of merry and
marvellous stories; and as _il vin fa cantare_, it makes man sing, they
also sang duets, solos, and glees. And when the weather was ill, or
chilly, or rainy, or too hot, they cured it with Chianti, according to a
medical prescription laid down in sundry rare old works:

"Nebbia, nebbia, mattutina,
Che ti levi la mattina?
Questa tazza di buon vino,
Fatta d'una marzamina,
Contra te sia medecina!'

"'Cloudy sky i' the morning early,
What will make you vanish fairly?
Ah! this goblet of good wine,
Essence of the blessed vine,
Shall be for thee a medicine!'

"Then they played chess, cards, cribbage, drole, ecarte, Pope Joan, bo,
brag, casino, thirty-one, put, snip-snap-snorem, lift-em-up,
tear-the-rag, smoke, blind-hookey, bless-your-grand-mother, Polish-bank,
seven-up, beggar-my-neighbour, patience, old-maid, fright, baccarat,
_belle-en-chemise_, bang-up, howling-Moses, bluff, swindle-Dick,
go-it-rags, ombre or keep-dark, morelles, go-bang, goose, dominoes, loto,
_morra_ or push-pin. And when extra hands were wanted they came, but all
that came were only fairy hands, short at the wrist, the goblin remarking
that it saved wine not to have mouths, _et cetera_. Then they had long
and curious and exceedingly weighty debates as to the laws of the games
and fair play, not forgetting meanwhile to sample all the various wines
ever sung by Redi. {23} So they got on, the Signore realising that one
near friend is worth a hundred distant relations.

"Now it befell one night that the goblin, having seen the Signore take
off a pint of good old strong Barolo very neatly and carefully, without
taking breath or winking, exclaimed with a long, deep sigh:

"'Thou art a gallant fellow, a right true boon companion, and it grieves
me to the heart to think that thou art doomed to be drowned to-morrow.'

"'Oh you be--doctored!' replied the Signore. 'There isn't water enough
in the Arno now to drown a duck, unless she held her head under in a
half-pint puddle.'

"The goblin went to the window, took a look at the stars,