When Paul came she said to him, "You are truly a fine gentleman, and should have looked after Thomas: he has been sick, and is so still." He said then, "I am sorry for it, boy: when you can go out again, come to me." Afterwards, on a Sunday, I went to vespers; then he said to me after vespers, "You fag, you do not come to me, I will trample you under foot some day." Then I resolved that he should not trample on me, for that I would run away. On Sunday I said to the butcher's widow that I wanted to go into the school and wash my shirt. I went, however, over the Iser, for I was afraid that if I went to Switzerland Paul would follow me. At the other side of the Iser is a hill; there I sat down, looked at the city, and cried bitterly, because I had now no longer any one to help me. I thought of going to Saltzburg or Vienna in Austria. As I sat there, a peasant came by with his waggon. He had brought salt to Munich, and was already drunk, although the sun had only just risen. I asked him to allow me to get up, and rode with him till he stopped to get something for himself and his horses to eat. In the mean time I begged in the village; and not far from the village I waited for him, and fell asleep. On awaking I cried heartily; for I thought that the peasant had driven away, and felt as if I had lost a father. However he soon came, quite drunk; told me to get up again, and asked whither I wished to go? I said to Saltzburg. When it was evening he drove side-ways off the highroad, and said, "Now you can get down, there is the road to Saltzburg." We had driven eight miles that day. I came into a village; when I got up in the morning there was a hoar frost, as if it had snowed, and I had no shoes, only torn socks; no cap, and a jacket without folds. I therefore went to Passau, and wished there to get a passage, and sail on the Danube to Vienna. In Passau they would not let me in. Then I determined to go to Switzerland, and asked the gatekeeper which was the nearest road to Switzerland. "By Munich," said he. "To Munich!" I answered, "I will not go. I would rather go out of my way ten miles to avoid it." He then directed me to Freissing, where there was a high-school or university. There I found Swiss. But before many days had elapsed Paul arrived with an halberd. The fags said to me, "The Bacchant from Munich is here, and is looking for you." Then I ran out at the gate as if he had been behind me, and went to Ulm, where I came to my saddler's widow, who had formerly warmed my feet by wrapping them in fur. After several weeks, one came to me who had been a companion of Paul's, and said to me, "Your relation Paul is here, and looking for you." So he had come eighteen miles after me; for in me he had lost a good benefice, because I had supported him several years. When however I heard this, although it was nearly night, I ran out at the gate, on the road to Constance; but lamented in my soul, for it was very grievous to me on account of the dear woman who had taken care of me like a mother. So I crossed the lake to Constance, and went over the bridge, and saw some little Swiss peasants in white jackets. Oh how glad I was! I imagined I was in the kingdom of heaven. From thence I came to Zurich, where I found some fellow-countrymen, natives of St. Gall, great Bacchants; to them I offered my services, if in return they would instruct me; but that they did as little as the others. After several months Paul sent his fag Hildebrand from Munich, to tell me that if I would return he would pardon me; but I would not, but stayed in Zurich, though indeed without studying. There was one Anthony Benetz there, out of Visp in St. Gall, who persuaded me to accompany him on a tour to Strasburg. When we arrived, there were a great many poor scholars there, and, as was said, not even one good school; we therefore went to Schlestadt. A gentleman met us, and asked, "Where are you going?" When he heard that we wished to go to Schlestadt he dissuaded us from it, by saying that there were many poor scholars there, and no rich people. Whereupon my comrade began to cry bitterly, because he did not know any other place to go to. I comforted him, and said, "Be of good courage! If there is one in Schlestadt who makes shift to live alone, I will manage to support us both." Whilst in a village outside of Schlestadt, where we got lodging in a mill, I got such a pain that I thought I must choke, and scarcely could get breath; for I had eaten a great many green nuts, which fall off about that season. Anthony then cried again; for he thought that he should lose his companion, and then not know how to help himself any more: and yet he had ten crowns secretly about him, and I not a halfpenny. When we came into the town, and had found lodging in the house of an aged married couple, of whom the man was stone blind, we went to the preceptor, Mr. John Sapidus, and begged of him to receive us. He asked us whence we came; when we said, "From Switzerland, from. St. Gall." He said, "There are wicked peasants there; they drive all their bishops away out of the country. If you intend to study properly you need not give me any thing; but if not, you must pay me, or I will pull your coats off your back." That was the first school which seemed to me to go on well. At that time the study of languages and sciences came into fashion. It was the same year that the diet was held at Worms. Sapidus had at one time nine hundred scholars, amongst whom were several fine learned fellows, who afterwards became celebrated men. When I entered the school I could do nothing, not even read the Donatus,^[3] and was nevertheless already eighteen years old. I seated myself among the little children, but was like the clucking hen among the chickens. When we had been there from Autumn till Whitsuntide, and there was a continual influx of scholars from all quarters, I was no longer able to procure sustenance for us both; we therefore went away to Solothurn, where there was a tolerably good school, and also a maintenance easier to be found. But as a set-off against this, we had to stay much in church, and lose time: so we went again to our native place, where I remained awhile, and went to school to a priest who taught me a little writing, and other things I know not what. Here I got the ague, and was nursed by my aunt Frances in Grenchen. At the same time I taught the little son of my other aunt, Simon Steiner, his A B C. He came to Zurich a year after, and studied by degrees: then he came to Strasburg, where he became Dr. Bucer's Famulus: and because he was attentive to his studies, he was made teacher of the thirds and afterwards of the second, class; and was very much regretted by the scholars at Strasburg when he died.

In the following Spring I left the country again, with two brothers. When we took leave of our mother, she cried and said, "God have mercy upon me, that now I must see three sons go into misery." Excepting that time I never saw my mother cry, for she was a courageous stout-hearted woman, but rather rough. When her third husband died, whom she had married in my absence, she remained a widow, and did all manner of work like a man, in order that she might be better able to bring up her youngest children. Hewing wood, hay-making, threshing, and other work which belongs more to men than women, were not too much for her. She had also buried three of her children herself, who had died in a time of very great pestilence; for in time of pestilence it costs a great deal to get persons buried by the gravediggers. Towards us her first children she was very harsh, for which reason we seldom entered the house. Once when I came to her again, after an absence of five years, in which I had travelled much in far distant lands, the first word she said to me was, "Has the devil carried you hither once more?" I answered, "The devil has not carried me, but my feet; I will not however be a burden to you long." She then said, "You