state; and then the very rich men gradually followed their example and began to use it a little, for it was a cool, light material to wear in hot weather. Weavers had not learned at that time to make the rich silks such as we have to-day; nor were the heavy kinds considered so beautiful as were the thinner varieties. But in time it became the common opinion that such fragile textiles were no material for men to wear; the Emperor feared the custom would make them vain and foppish. Accordingly a law was passed forbidding male citizens to use silk apparel."

Pierre laughed.

"But the Romans were no longer content with their coarse woolen robes," went on Monsieur le Curé. "They had seen silk and they wanted it. They were a luxury loving people who eagerly caught up every form of elegance that came in their way. Many of the rich had enjoyed the splendor and comfort of silken garments and they were not to be deterred from possessing them. Persian traders who possibly got their silk thread from China, and who held the monopoly of the woven fabrics, began sending their goods to Rome, charging for them most outrageous prices. Then came the Persian invasion, and the program was reversed; for Rome turned on the Orientals, levying such a high tax on the manufacture of silk that the industry of the Persians was greatly injured. And all this time that the Romans were wearing silk and fighting about it they were still unable to find out where the silk fibre came from."

Père Benedict broke into a hearty laugh.

"Did they ever find out?" inquired Marie whose eyes had scarcely left the face of the priest.

"Of course they did, silly!" was Pierre's scornful response.

"Gently, son, to your little sister," said Monsieur le Curé.

Pierre flushed.

"They did find out, Marie," continued Père Benedict kindly. "And it was in a strange way, too."

"Tell us!" exclaimed both the boy and girl simultaneously.

"It chanced that there were two monks who were sent on a mission to India, and who ventured within the borders of China. While there they saw the Chinese raising silkworms, and returning to Rome they related their story to the Emperor Justinian."

"I think it was mean of them!" announced Marie with spirit.

"I'm afraid it was, my child," agreed Father Benedict. "Yet after all was it quite fair for the Chinese to keep to themselves a thing which it was for the world's good to know? Was not such a course both narrow and selfish?"

"Perhaps it was."

"Well, at any rate, the monks were sent back to China with orders to procure some of the silkworm's eggs. Now this was not an easy task, because no one was allowed to carry such treasures out of China. Had a traveler been discovered doing so he would certainly have been killed. Hence the problem was how to accomplish the feat."

Marie and Pierre edged closer.

"The story goes that the wily monks had some hollow staffs made, and that inside these they stowed away the precious eggs, departing out of China in the guise of pilgrims. On their arrival in Rome the eggs were hatched and the stolen silkworms became the ancestors of all the silkworms in Europe—perhaps the great-great-great-great-grandparents of the very ones you are going to raise next week."

The boy and girl laughed merrily.

"The rest of the story is that Emperor Justinian had mulberry trees planted throughout the Roman Empire and brought to Rome weavers from Tyre and Berytus. These workmen trained other weavers, and in the meantime more and more eggs were hatched. All Europe seized upon the industry. Mulberry trees were planted in Greece and in other countries where the climate was sufficiently warm to make them grow. From Greece the trade spread at a later date to Venice, at that time one of the foremost patrons of the arts. But all the silks made up to this period were very plain, because it was not until long afterward that manufacturers learned how to make velvets, satins, and brocades. Then came a revolution in China, and for the next six hundred years Rome and Greece had the principal supply of silkworms and the monopoly of the industry. Was it not fortunate now, Marie, that the Romans had stolen the secret of making silk?" Père Benedict pinched her cheek playfully. "Had they not done so the art might, perhaps, have been lost, as were so many other of the early arts. Numberless other conquests and wars in various countries followed. I won't stop to tell you about them; but one of the good results evolving out of the turmoil was that silk-making spread to Sicily, Italy, and Spain."