'Twas but a crumb of love the child had given, yet, as Aldebaran held it in his heart, behold a miracle! It grew full-loaf, and he would fain divide it with all hungering souls! So when a stone's throw farther on he met a man well-nigh distraught from many losses, he did not say in bitterness as once he would have done, that 'twas the common lot of mortals; to look on him if one would know the worst that Fate can do.

Nay, rather did he speak so bravely of what might still be wrung from life though one were maimed like he, that hope sprang up within his hearer and sent him on his way with face a-shine.
That grateful smile was like a revelation to Aldebaran, showing him he had indeed the power belonging to the stars.

Beggared of joy, no light within himself, yet from the Central Sun could he reflect the hope and cheer that made him as the eye of Taurus 'mong his fellows.
The weeks slipped into months, months into years.

The Jester went his way unto his kindred and never once was missed, because Aldebaran more than filled his place.

In time the town forgot it ever had another Jester, and in time Aldebaran began to feel the gladness that he only feigned before.
And then it came to pass whenever he went by men felt a strange, strength-giving influence radiating from his presence,--a sense of hope.
One could not say exactly what it was, it was so fleeting, so intangible, like warmth that circles from a brazier, or perfume that is wafted from an unseen rose.
Thus he came down to death at last, and there was dole in all the Province, so that pilgrims, journeying through that way, asked when they heard his passing-bell, "What king is dead, that all thus do him reverence ?" "'Tis but our Jester," one replied.