“Now I see that I am a fool,” he cried, as he beat upon his breast. “That cow has more religion than I, for it kneels before it lies down; while, before tumbling into bed, my knee has been unbent, this many a year.”
Then going back, he patted the neck of his faithful Gulick, washed off the blood stains, threw his spurs away, and spoke so kindly to the ass, that it rose up, and actually began frisking around. Then it sidled up close to Gruntli, and seemed to invite him to get on its back again.
This the man did, and, riding to where the village had been, organized a corps of relief to help the wounded and hungry, who were left alive, and he paid for medicines out of his own purse. Then he built new and better houses for his tenants, the survivors, and for those who came from other parts of the Swiss country.
And when later, a devout worshipper in church and helper of his fellow men, Gruntli cared for and fed his ass Gulick, in a comfortable stable, until at last the beast died at a good old age.
The pastor of the rebuilt village came one day, and asked Gruntli to tell the story of his great change and the reason of it. Then the man made answer as follows:
“When it came to pass that an ass could see an angel before I, a man of science, could discern, [[260]]or hear him, I thought it time to believe. So I at once exchanged science, so called, for faith, as a little child, and, my pride of knowledge for help to my fellow men.”
THE END.
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