us had once nine hundred students, some of them fine scholars, who
afterwards became doctors and men of renown.

"When I came to this school I knew little, could not even read the
Donat. Though I was eighteen years old, I was placed among the little
children, and looked like a hen amidst her small chickens. One day when
Sapidus called over the list of the scholars, he said, 'I find many
barbarous names, I must try to Latinize them.' He then called over the
new names: he had turned me into Thomas Platterus, and my fellow,
Anthony Venetz into Antonius Venetus, and said, 'Which are the two?' We
stood up and he exclaimed, 'Poof! what measly Schuetzen to have such
fine names!' this was partly true, especially of my companion, for I
was more accustomed to the change of air and food.

"When we had stayed there from autumn to the following Whitsuntide, a
great many fresh scholars arrived, so that there was not sufficient to
support us all; and we went off to Solothurn, where there was a
tolerably good school, and more food; but we were obliged to be so
constantly in church that we lost all our time; therefore we returned
home.

"The following spring I went off again with my two brothers. When we
took leave of our mother, she wept and said, 'Am I not to be pitied, to
have three sons going to lead this miserable life?' It was the only
time I ever saw my mother cry, for she was a brave, strong-minded
woman, respected by every one as honourable, upright, and pious.

"I came to Zurich, and went to the school of the monastery of our Lady.
About this time it was reported that a thoroughly good and learned but
severe schoolmaster was coming from Einsiedeln. I seated myself in a
corner not far from the schoolmaster's chair, and I thought to myself,
in this corner will I study or die. When he (Father Myconius) entered,
he said, 'This is a fine school (it had only just been built); but
methinks you are a set of ignorant boys: but I will have patience with
you, if you will only be industrious.' I knew that if it had cost me my
life I could not have declined a word, even of the first declension;
but I could repeat the Donat by heart from beginning to end, for when I
was in Schlettstadt, Sapidus had a bachelor who plagued the Bacchanten
so grievously with the Donat, that I thought it must be such a good
book, I had better learn it by heart. I got on well with Father
Myconius: he read Terence to us, and we had to conjugate and decline
eve