Stars fall, as we all know, but few men catch one. I held out my dinner plate over Vienna and took a bright one on the rim. It hissed, it rolled, and it cooked my egg. I ate the egg and threw the star back before anyone could notice.

Milk ran short in Holstein, so I went and had a word with the cows. They wanted music. I brought them a band and a man who juggled. The first pail overflowed by noon. By Friday we had flooded the valley, and the children had to go to school in tubs.

Chinese masons were short one brick on their long wall, and I happened to have one in my coat. I pressed it into the gap at sunset. The entire wall settled with a sigh. The Emperor made me a mandarin, and I still get a small sum each year.

A snail raced me from Naples to Rome, and I let him win. It took seven years, with stops. The crowds were dreadful. At the finish he was given a laurel no bigger than a coin, and he cried. I have seldom been so moved by an athlete.

Portraits of me must be painted in two parts, as no canvas is large enough for my good qualities. The artist in Florence worked.