loaded with grain or charcoal rumbled along, and herds of cattle and
swine, laden donkeys, the little carts of the farmers and bee keepers
conveying milk and honey to the city, passed over the dyke, which was
still softened by the rain of the preceding night.
The thunderstorm had cooled the air, but the rays of the morning sun were
already scorching. A few heavy little clouds were darkly relieved
against the blue sky, and a peasant, driving two sucking pigs before him,
called to another, who was carrying a goose under each arm, that the sun
was drawing water, and thundershowers seldom came singly.
Yet the city looked pleasant enough in the freshness of early June. The
maidservants who were opening the shutters glanced gaily out into the
streets, and arranged the flowers in front of the windows or bowed
reverently as a priest passed by on his way to mass. The barefooted
Capuchin, with his long beard, beckoned to the cook or the tradesman's
wife and, as she put something into his beggar's sack and he thanked her
kindly with some pious axiom, she felt as if she herself and all her
household had gained a right to the blessing of Heaven for that day,
and cheerily continued her work.