Lindenschmitt]

In the year 1000 there was a very pious priest in Mayence called
Bishop Willigis. He was only the son of a poor wheelwright, but by his
perseverance and his own merit he had attained to the dignity of first
priest of the kingdom. The honest citizens of Mayence loved and
honoured the worthy divine, although they did not altogether like
having to bow down to one who had been brought up in a simple cottage
like themselves.

The bishop once reproved them in gentle tones for thinking too much of
mere descent. This vexed the supercilious citizens, and one night they
determined to play Willigis a trick. They took some chalk and drew
enormous wheels on all the doors of his house.

Early next morning as the bishop was going to mass, he noticed the
scoffers' malicious work. He stood silently looking at the wheels, the
chaplain by his side expecting every moment that the reverend prelate
would burst forth in a terrible rage. But a gay smile spread over the
bishop's features and, ordering a painter to be sent to him, he told
him to paint white wheels on a scarlet back-ground, visible to every
eye, just where the chalk wheels had been drawn, and underneath to
paint the words, "Willigis! Willigis! just think what you have risen
from." But he did not stop there. He ordered the wheelwright to make
him a plough-wheel, and caused it to be placed over his couch in
memory of his extraction.

Thereafter the scoffers were put to silence, and the people of Mayence
began to honour and esteem their worthy bishop, who, though he had
been so exalted, possessed such honest common-sense.

White wheels on a red ground have been the arms of the Bishops of
Mayence ever since.

JOHANNISBERG

Wherever the German tongue is heard, and even further still, the king
of all Rhine wines, "Johannisberger" is known and sought after. Every
friend of the grape which grows on the banks of this river is well
acquainted with it, but few perhaps know of its princely origin. It is
princely, not because princes' hands once kept the key to
Johannisberg, but rather because princely hands planted the vine in
the Rhine country, and this royal giver was no other than Charlemagne,
the all-powerful ruler of the kingdom of the Franks.

Once in early spring Charles the Great was standing on the balcony of
his castle at Ingelheim, his eyes straying over the beautiful stretch
of country at his feet. Snow had fallen during the night, and the
hill