‘Now Saint Alphonsus has given us a hundred guilders all in one go! They’re in your purse.’ The farmer turned deadly white when he heard this and repeated his protests that he had no money at all. But the hussar persuaded him he must trust Saint Alphonsus and just take a look; Alfonsus had never deceived him! So whether he liked it or not he had to turn his pockets inside out and empty them. Then the hundred guilders appeared all right, and since he had taken half of the hussar’s guilder it was no use pleading and imploring, he had to share his hundred.

That was all very artful and cunning, but that doesn’t make it right, especially in a chapel.

The Mole

Of all the animals that suckle their young the mole is the only one that searches for its food alone in dark tunnels underground.

And that one fact is more than enough, some of you will say, and you’re thinking of your fields and meadows, and how they are covered with molehills and the earth disturbed and riddled with holes, and how the plants above die off when that dastardly animal eats their roots down below!

So let’s now bring the culprit to trial!

It’s true and can’t be denied that in certain places it disturbs and loosens the soil as it burrows its runs underground.

It is also true that the mounds it throws up cover much fertile ground, hinder the growth of the shoots underneath and can even smother them. Yet that can be put right by a diligent hand with a rake.

But which of you has seen a mole eating the roots? Who can say it does that?

Well, this is what people say: Wherever the roots are eaten and the plants die off, there you’ll find moles; and where there are no moles it doesn’t happen. So it must be the moles! Those who say that are presumably the same people who used to say: If the frogs croak early in spring the leaves will open early too; but if the frogs stay quiet the buds won’t open; therefore the frogs’ croaking opens the leaves! See how people can be wrong!

But we have now in this court a lawyer to speak in defence of moles, he’s an experienced farmer and a naturalist, and he says:

‘It’s not the mole that eats the roots, but the grubs or white worms under ground which later change into cockchafers or other insects. The mole eats the grubs and rids the soil of these pests.’

So now we can see why moles are found wherever the grass and the plants are sickly and dying off: it is because they are after the grubs there. And then the mole is blamed for the damage done by the grubs and is rewarded with a curse and a death sentence for helping the farmer!

‘That’s another of those stories dreamt up indoors or read in books,’ you’ll be saying, ‘by someone who has never set eyes on a mole!’

But wait a moment! The man we’ve just heard knows the mole better than any of you, better than your expert molecatchers, as you will see. For you can make two tests to check if he is telling the truth.

First, you can look at the mole’s mouth. For all four-legged creatures or mammals made by nature to nibble at roots have in each jaw, upper and lower, just two sharp front teeth, and no eyeteeth at all, but a gap in front of the grinders. Whereas all beasts of prey that catch and eat other animals have six or more pointed front teeth, with eyeteeth on each side, and a row of grinders behind them. Now, if you inspect a mole’s jaws you will find this: it has six sharp front teeth in the upper jaw and eight in the lower, and eyeteeth behind them on each side, top and bottom. That means it is not an animal that gnaws at roots but a small animal of prey that eats other animals.

Second, you can cut open the belly of a dead mole and see what is inside. What it eats must go into its belly, it must have eaten what’s in its stomach! Now, if you make this test you’ll never find anything like root fibres in the mole’s stomach, but you will always find the skins of white worms, earthworms and other pests that live in the ground.

How does the case look now?

If you put yourself out to make life hard for moles and try to get rid of them then you are doing yourself great harm and the white worms a big favour. Then they can safely ravage your meadows and fields, they’ll grow big and fat, and in spring the cockchafers will appear, eat your trees as bare as birch-brooms, and you’ll have the devil to pay.

That’s how the case stands!

The Dentist

Two loafers who had been roaming around the country together for some time because they were too lazy to work or had learnt no trade finally got into a tight corner because they had no money left, and they saw no quick way of getting any. Then they had this idea: they went begging at doors for bread which they intended to use, not to fill their stomachs, but to stage a trick. For they kneaded and rolled it into little balls and coated them with the dust from old, rotten worm-eaten wood so that they looked just like yellow pills from the chemist. Then for a couple of pence they bought some sheets of red paper at the bookbinder’s (for a pretty colour often helps take people in). Next they cut up the paper and wrapped the pills in it, six or eight to a little packet. Then one of them went on ahead to a village where there was a fair and into the Red Lion where he hoped to find a good crowd. He ordered a glass of wine, but he didn’t drink it but sat sadly in a corner holding his face in his hand, moaning under his breath and fidgeting and turning this way and that. The good farmers and townsfolk in the inn thought the poor fellow must have terrible toothache. Yet what could they do? They pitied him, they consoled him, saying it would soon go away, then went back to their drinks and their market-day affairs. Meanwhile the other idler came in. The two scoundrels pretended they had never seen each other in their lives before. They didn’t look at each other until the one seemed to react to the other’s moans in the corner.

‘My friend,’ he said, ‘have you got toothache?’ and he strode slowly over to him. ‘I am Dr Schnauzius Rapunzius from Trafalgar,’ he continued. Such resounding foreign names help take people in too, you know, like pretty colours. ‘If you take my tooth pills,’ he went on, ‘I can easily get rid of the pain, one of them will do the trick, at most two.’ ‘Please God you’re right!’ said the other rogue. So now the fine doctor Rapunzius took one of the red packets from his pocket and prescribed one pill, to be placed on the tongue and bitten on firmly.