an old proverb which speaks of getting out of the frying-pan
into the fire, which was indeed my unhappy case in this change of
masters. This priest was, without exception, the most niggardly of all
miserable devils I have ever met with. He had a large old chest, the key
of which he always carried about him; and when the charity bread came
from the church, he would with his own hands deposit it in the chest and
turn the key. The only other eatable we had was a string of onions, of
which every fourth day I was allowed _one_. Five farthings' worth of
meat was his allowance for dinner and supper. It is true he divided the
broth with me; but my share of the meat I might have put in my eye
instead of my mouth, and have been none the worse for it; but sometimes,
by good luck, I got a little morsel of bread.

At the end of three weeks I was so exhausted with sheer hunger that I
could hardly stand on my legs. One day, when my miserable, covetous
thief of a master had gone out, an angel, in the likeness of a tinker,
knocked at the door, and inquired whether I had anything to mend.
Suddenly a light flashed upon me. "I have lost the key of this chest,"
said I, "can you fit it?" He drew forth a bunch of keys, fitted it, and
lo! the lid of the chest arose. "I have no money," I said to my
preserver, "but give me the key and help yourself." He helped himself,
and so, when he had gone, did I.

But it was not predestined for me that such good luck should continue
long; for on the third day I beheld the priest turning and counting the
loaves over and over again. At last he said, "If I were not assured of
the security of this chest, I should say that somebody had stolen my
bread; but from this day I shall count the loaves; there remain now
exactly nine and a piece."

"May nine curses light upon you, you miserable beggar!" said I to
myself. The utmost I dared do, for some days, was to nibble here and
there a morsel of the crust. At last it occurred to me that the chest
was old and in parts broken. Might it not be supposed that rats had made
an entrance? I therefore picked one loaf after another until I made up a
tolerable supply of crumbs, which I ate like so many sugar-plums.

The priest, when he returned, beheld the havoc with dismay.

"Confound the rats!" quoth he. "There is no keeping anything from them."
I fared well at dinner, for he pared off all the places which he
supposed the rats had nibbled at, and gave them to me, saying, "