Gathering up his tunic he made a bag of it and full of joy returned to Rome, where he distributed them among all the poor whom he met.
Is not this a charming incident?
Does it not by itself alone reveal the freshness, the youth, the kindness of heart of the first Franciscans?
There is no end to the stories of the ingenuousness of Brother Egidio.
All kinds of work seemed good to him provided he had time enough in the morning for his religious duties.

Now he is in the service of the Cellarer of the Four Crowns at Rome, sifting flour and carrying water to the convent from the well of San Sisto.

Now he is at Rieti, where he consents to remain with Cardinal Nicholas, bringing to every meal the bread which he had earned, notwithstanding the entreaties of the master of the house, who would gladly have provided for his wants.

One day it rained so hard that Brother Egidio could not think of going out; the cardinal was already making merry over the thought that he would be forced to accept bread that he had not earned.

But Egidio went to the kitchen, and finding that it needed cleaning he persuaded the cook to let him sweep it, and returned triumphant with the bread he had earned, which he ate at the cardinal's table.[6] From the very beginning Egidio's life commanded respect; it was at once so original, so gay, so spiritual,[7] and so mystical, that even in the least exact and most expanded accounts his legend has remained almost free from all addition.