"
I call to the Mouse, and he runs tremulously toward me.
"Have you friends in Ancona?"
"No, signor."
"How much money have you left?"
He shows me three soldi. "Enough for a coffee."
"And then?"
"God knows."
So I give him the five francs, and explain my little scheme of making it a
loan, and not a gift; and then I give him my address.
He does not appear to understand the scheme of the loan; but he takes the
money, and is quite stunned by his good fortune. He thanks me absently,
and goes and shows the piece to the guards, with a smile that illumines
and transfigures his whole person. At Bologna, he has come to his senses;
he loads me with blessings, he is ready to weep; he reverences me, he
wishes me a good voyage, endless prosperity, and innumerable days; and
takes the train for Ancona.
"Ah, ah!" I congratulate myself,--"is it not a fine thing to be the
instrument of a special providence?"
It is pleasant to think of the Mouse during all that journey, and if we
are never so tired, it rests us to say, "I wonder where the Mouse is by
this time?" When we get home, and coldly count up our expenses, we rejoice
in the five francs lent to the Mouse.
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