which the current sets outward, without any return. No, my friends, a palm
like this of Maso's is a favorable sign, since it hinges on a pliant will,
that will open and shut like a well-formed eye, or the jacket of a
shell-fish, at its owner's pleasure. Thou hast drawn near to many a port
before this of Vevey, after the sun has fallen low, Signor Maso!"

"In that I have taken a seaman's chances, which depend more on the winds
than on his own wishes."

"Thou esteemest the bottom of the craft in which thou art required to
sail, as far more important than her ancient. Thou hast an eye for a keel,
but none for color; unless, indeed, as it may happen to be convenient to
seem that thou art not."

"Nay, Master Soothsayer, I suspect thee to be an officer of some of the
Holy Brotherhoods, sent in this guise to question us poor travellers to
our ruin!" answered Maso. "I am, what thou seest, but a poor mariner that
hath no better bark under him than this of Baptiste, and on a sea no
larger than a Swiss lake."

"Shrewdly observed," said Pippo, winking to those near him, though he so
little liked the eye and bearing of the other that he was not sorry to
turn to some new subject. "But what matters it, Signori, to be speaking of
the qualities of men! We are all alike, honorable, merciful, more disposed
to help others than to help ourselves, and so little given to selfishness,
that nature has been obliged to supply every mother's son of us with a
sort of goad, that shall be constantly pricking us on to look after our
own interests. Here are animals whose dispositions are less understood,
and we will bestow a useful minute in examining their qualities. Reverend
Augustine, this mastiff of thine is named Uberto?"

"He is known by that appellation throughout the cantons and their allies.
The fame of the dog reaches even to Turin and to most of the towns in the
plain of Lombardy."

"Now, Signori, you perceive that this is but a secondary creature in the
scale of animals. Do him good and he will be grateful; do him harm, and he
will forgive. Feed him, and he is satisfied. He will travel the paths of
the St. Bernard, night and day, to do credit to his training, and when the
toil is ended, all he asks is just as much meat as will keep the breath
within his ribs. Had heaven given Uberto a conscience and greater wit, the
first might have shown him the impiety of working for travellers on holy
days and festas, while the latter would be apt