 Chapter 1 of The Book of Saints and Friendly Beasts Every one has heard of Bridget, the little girl saint of Ireland. Her name is almost as well known as that of St. Patrick, who drove all the snakes from the island. St. Bridget had long golden hair, and she was very beautiful. Many wonderful things happened to her that are written in famous books, but I suspect that you never heard what she did about the king's wolf. It is a queer story. This is how it happened. The king of Ireland had a tame wolf which some hunters had caught for him when it was a wee baby, and this wolf ran around as it pleased in the king's park near the palace and had a very good time. But one morning he got over the high wall which surrounded the park, and strayed a long distance from home which was a foolish thing to do. For in those days wild wolves were hated and feared by the people whose cattle they often stole, and if a man could kill a wicked wolf he thought himself a very smart fellow indeed. Moreover the king himself had offered a prize to any man who should bring him a dead wolf, for he wanted his kingdom to be a peaceful happy one where the children could play in the woods all day without fear of big eyes or big teeth. Of course you can guess what happened to the king's wolf. A big, silly country fellow was going along with his bow and arrows when he saw a great brown beast leap over a hedge and dash into the meadow beyond. It was only the king's wolf running away from home and feeling very frisky because it was the first time that he had done such a thing. But the country fellow did not know all that. Aha! he said to himself, I'll soon have you, my fine wolf, and the king will give me a gold piece that will buy me a hat and a new suit of clothes for the holidays. And without stopping to think about it or to look closely at the wolf who had the king's mark upon his ear, the fellow shot his arrow straight as a string. The king's wolf gave one great leap into the air and then fell dead on the grass, poor fellow. The countryman was much pleased. He dragged his prize straight up to the king's palace and thumped on the gate. Open, he cried, open to the valiant hunter who has shot a wolf for the king, open that I may go in to receive the reward. So, very respectfully, they bade him enter, and the Lord Chamberlain escorted him before the king himself, who sat on a great red velvet throne in the hall. In came the fellow, dragging after him by the tail the limp body of the king's wolf. What have we here? growled the king as the Lord Chamberlain gave a low bow and pointed with his staff to the stranger. The king had a bad temper and did not like to receive collars in the morning. But the silly countryman was too vain of his great deed to notice the king's disagreeable frown. You have here a wolf, sire, he said proudly. I have shot for you a wolf and I come to claim the promised reward. But at this unlucky moment the king started up with an angry cry. He had noticed his mark on the wolf's right ear. Ho! sees the villain! he shouted to his soldiers. He has slain my tame wolf. He has shot my bet. Away with him to prison and to-morrow he dies. It was useless for the poor man to scream and cry and try to explain that it was all a mistake. The king was furious. His wolf was killed and the murderer must die. In those days this was the way kings punished men who displeased them in any way. There were no delays, things happened very quickly. So they dragged the poor fellow off to a dark damp dungeon and left him there howling and tearing his hair, wishing that wolves had never been saved from the flood by Noah and his ark. Now, not far from this place little Saint Bridget lived. When she chose the beautiful spot for her home there were no houses near, only a great oak tree under which she built her little hut. It had but one room and the roof was covered with grass and straw. It seemed almost like a doll's playhouse it was so small and Bridget herself was like a big golden-haired wax doll, the prettiest doll you ever saw. She was so beautiful and so good that people wanted to live near her where they could see her sweet face often and hear her voice. When they found where she had built her cell, men came flocking from all the country round about with their wives and children and their household goods, their cows and pigs and chickens, and camping on the green grass under the great oak tree they said, We will live here too where Saint Bridget is. So house after house was built and a village grew up about her little cell and for a name it had Kildare, which in Irish means cell of the oak. Soon Kildare became so fashionable that even the king must have a palace and a park there, and it was in this park that the king's wolf had been killed. Now Bridget knew the man who had shot the wolf, and when she heard into what terrible trouble he had fallen she was very sorry for she was a kind hearted little girl. She knew he was a silly fellow to shoot the tame wolf, but still it was all a mistake, and she thought he ought not to be punished so severely. She wished that she could do something to help him to save him if possible. But this seemed difficult, for she knew what a bad temper the king had, and she also knew how proud he had been of that wolf who was the only tame one in all the land. Bridget called for her coachman with her chariot and pair of white horses and started for the king's palace, wondering what she could do to satisfy the king and make him release the man who had meant to do no harm. But lo and behold, as the horses galloped along over the Irish bogs of Pete, St. Bridget saw a great white shape racing towards her. At first she thought it was a dog, but no, no dog was as large as that. She soon saw that it was a wolf, with big eyes and with a red tongue lolling out of his mouth. At last he overtook the frightened horses, and with a flying leap came plump into the chariot where Bridget sat and crouched at her feet quietly as a dog would. He was no tame wolf, but a wild one who had never before felt a human being's hand upon him. Yet he let Bridget pat and stroke him and say nice things into his great ear, and he kept perfectly still by her side until the chariot rumbled up to the gate of the palace. Then Bridget held out her hand and called to him, and the great white beast followed her quietly through the gate and up the stairs and down the long hall until they stood before the red velvet throne where the king sat looking stern and sulky. They must have been a strange-looking pair, the little maiden with her green gown and her golden hair falling like a shower down to her knees, and the huge white wolf standing up almost as tall as she, his yellow eyes glaring fiercely about, and his red tongue panting. Bridget laid her hand gently on the beast's head which was close to her shoulder, and bowed to the king. The king only sat and stared, he was so surprised at the sight, but Bridget took that as a permission to speak. "'You have lost your tame wolf, O king,' she said, "'but I have brought you a better. "'There is no other tame wolf in all the land, now yours is dead, but look at this one. There is no white wolf to be found anywhere, and he is both tame and white. "'I have tamed him, my king. I, a little maiden, have tamed him so that he is gentle as you see. Look, I can pull his big ears, and he will not snarl. Look, I can put my little hand into his great red mouth, and he will not bite. Sire, I give him to you. Spare me, then, the life of the poor, silly man who unwittingly killed your poor beast. Give his stupid life to me in exchange for this dear, amiable wolf.' And she smiled pleadingly. The king sat staring, first at the great white beast, wonderfully pleased with the look of him, then at the beautiful maiden whose blue eyes look so wistfully at him, and he was wonderfully pleased with the look of them too. Then he made her tell him the whole story, how she had come by the creature and when and where. Now, when she had finished he first whistled in surprise, then he laughed. That was a good sign. He was wonderfully pleased with St. Bridget's story also. It was so strange a thing for the king to laugh in the morning that the chamberlain nearly fainted from surprise, and Bridget felt sure that she had won her prayer. Never had the king been seen in such a good humor, for he was a vain man and it pleased him mightily to think of owning all for himself this huge beast whose like was not in all the land and whose story was so marvellous. And when Bridget looked at him so beseechingly he could not refuse those sweet blue eyes, the requests which they made, for fear of seeing them fill with tears. So, as Bridget begged, he pardoned the countrymen and gave his life to Bridget, ordering his soldiers to set him free from prison. Then when she had thanked the king very sweetly, she bade the wolf lie down beside the red velvet throne, and thenceforth be faithful and kind to his new master. And with one last pat upon his shaggy head she left the wolf and hurried out to take away the silly countrymen in her chariot before the king should have time to change his mind. The man was very happy and grateful, but she gave him a stern lecture on the way home, advising him not to be so hasty and so wastey next time. Surra, stupid! she said as she set him down by his cottage-eight. Better not kill it all than take the lives of poor tame creatures. I have saved your life this once, but next time you will have to suffer. Remember, it is better that two wicked wolves escape than that one kind beast be killed. We cannot afford to lose our friendly beasts, master stupid. We can better afford to lose a blundering fellow like you. And she drove away to her cell under the oak, leaving the silly man to think over what she had said and feel much ashamed. But the king's new wolf lived happily ever after in the palace park, and Bridget came often to see him so that he had no time to grow homesick or lonesome. CHAPTER II SAINT GERASIMUS AND THE LION ONE One fine morning Saint Gerasimus was walking briskly along the bank of the river Jordan. By his side plotted a little donkey bearing on his back an earthen jar, for they had been down to the river together to get water, and were taking it back to the monastery on the hill for the monks to drink at the noonday meal. Gerasimus was singing merrily, touching the stupid little donkey now and then with a twig of olive leaves to keep him from going to sleep. This was in the far east in the holy land, so this guy was very blue, and the ground smelled hot. Birds were singing around them in the trees and overhead, all kinds of strange and beautiful birds, but suddenly Gerasimus heard a sound unlike any bird he had ever known, a sound which was not a bird's song at all, unless some newly invented kind had a bass voice which ended in a howl. The little donkey stopped suddenly, embracing his forelegs and cocking forward his long, flappy ears looked afraid and foolish. Gerasimus stopped too, but he was so wise a man that he could not look foolish, and he was too good a man to be afraid of anything. Still he was a little surprised. Dear me, he said aloud how very strange that sounded, what you suppose it was. Now there was no one else anywhere near, so he must have been talking to himself, for he could never have expected that donkey to know anything about it, but the donkey thought he was being spoken to, so he wagged his head and said he ha, which was a very silly answer indeed, and did not help Gerasimus at all. He sees the donkey by the halter and waited to see what would happen. He peered up and down and around and about, but there was nothing to be seen except the shining river, the yellow sand, a clump of bushes beside the road, and the spire of the monastery peeping over the top of the hill beyond. He was about to start the donkey once more on his climb towards home, when that sound came again, and this time he noticed that it was a sad sound, a sort of whining growl ending in a sob. It sounded nearer than before and seemed to come from the clump of bushes. Gerasimus and the donkey turned their heads quickly in that direction, and the donkey trembled all over. He was so frightened, but his master only said, it must be a lion. And sure enough he had hardly spoken the word when out of the bushes came poking the great head and yellow eyes of a lion. He was looking straight at Gerasimus. Then giving that cry again he bounded out and strode towards the good man who was holding the donkey tight to keep him from running away. He was the biggest kind of a lion much bigger than the donkey, and his mane was long and thick, and his tail had a yellow brush on the end as large as a window mop. But as he came, Gerasimus noticed that he limped, as if he were laying. At once the saint was filled with pity, for he could not bear to see any creature suffer, and without any thought of fear he went forward to meet the lion, instead of pouncing upon him fiercely or snarling or making ready to eat him up, the lion crouched, whining at his feet. Poor fellow, said Gerasimus, what hurt you and makes you lame, brother lion? The lion shook his yellow mane and roared. But his eyes were not fierce, they were only full of pain, as they looked up into those of Gerasimus asking for help. And then he held up his right forepaw and shook it to show that this was where the trouble lay. Gerasimus looked at him kindly, lie down, sir, he said, just as one would speak to a big yellow dog, and obediently the lion charged. Then the good man bent over him, and taking the great paw in his hand, examined it carefully in the soft cushion of the paw, a long pointed thorn was piercing so deeply that he could hardly find the end. No wonder the poor lion had roared with pain, Gerasimus pulled out the thorn as gently as he could, and though it must have hurt the lion badly, he did not make a sound, but lay still as he had been told. And when the thorn was taken out, the lion licked Gerasimus' hand and looked up in his face as if he would say, Thank you kind man, I shall not forget. Now when the saint had finished this good deed, he went back to his donkey and started on towards the monastery. But hearing the soft pat of steps behind him, he turned and saw that the great yellow lion was following close at his heels. At first he was somewhat embarrassed, for he did not know how the other monks would receive this big stranger, but it did not seem polite or kind to drive him away, especially as he was still somewhat lame. So Gerasimus took up his switch of olive leaves and drove the donkey on without a word, thinking that perhaps the lion would grow tired and drop behind. But when he glanced over his shoulder, he still saw the yellow head close at his elbow, and sometimes he felt the hot, rough tongue licking his hand that hung at his side. So they climbed the hill to the monastery. Someone had seen Gerasimus coming with this strange attendant at his heels and the windows and doors were crowded with monks, their mouths and eyes wide open with astonishment, peering over one another's shoulders. From every corner of the monastery they had run to see the site, but they were all on tiptoe to run back again twice as quickly if the lion should roar or lash his tail. Now although Gerasimus knew that the house was full of staring eyes expecting every minute to see him eaten up, he did not hurry or worry at all. Leisurely he unloaded the water jar and put the donkey in his stable, the lion following him everywhere he went. When all was finished he turned to bid the beast goodbye, but instead of taking the hint and departing as he was expected to, the lion crouched at Gerasimus' feet and licked his sandals and then he looked up in the saint's face and pawed at his course gown pleadingly as if he said, Good man, I love you because you took the thorn out of my foot. Let me stay with you always to be your watchdog. And Gerasimus understood. Well if you wish to stay, I am willing so long as you are good, he said, and the lion leaped up and roared with joy so loudly that all the monks who were watching tumbled over one another and ran away to their cells in a terrible fright, locking the doors behind them. Gerasimus carried the water jar into the empty kitchen and the lion followed. After sniffing about the place to get acquainted, just as a kitten does in its new home, the lion lay down in front of the fire and curled his head up on his paws like the great big cat he was. And so after a long sigh, he went to sleep. Then Gerasimus had a chance to tell the other monks all about it. At first they were timid and were not here of keeping such a dangerous pet, but when they had all tiptoed down to the kitchen behind Gerasimus and had seen the big kitten asleep there so peacefully, they were not quite so much afraid. I'll tell you what we will do, said the abbot, if brother Gerasimus can make his friend eat porridge and herbs like the rest of us, we will let him join our number. He might be very useful as well as ornamental in keeping away burglars and mice. But we cannot have any flesh-eating creature among us. Some of us are too fat and tempting, I fear, and he glanced at several of the roundest monks who shuddered in their tight gowns, but the abbot himself was the fattest of them all, and he spoke with a feeling. So it was decided, Gerasimus let the lion sleep a good long nap to put him in a fine humor, but when it came time for supper he mixed a bowl of porridge and milk and filled the big wooden platter with boiled greens. Then taking one dish in each hand he went up to the lion and set them in front of his nose. Leo, Leo, Leo, he called coaxingly, just as a little girl would call kitty, kitty, kitty, to her pet. The lion lifted up his head and purred like a small furnace, for he recognized his friend's voice. But when he smelled the dishes of food he sniffed and made a horrid face, wrinkling up his nose and saying, Agh, he did not like this stuff at all, but Gerasimus patted him on the head and said, you'd better eat it, Leo, it is all I have myself, share and share alike, brother. The lion looked at him earnestly and then dipped his nose into the porridge with a grunt he ate it all and found it not so very bad. So next he tried the greens, they were a poor dessert, he thought, but since he saw that Gerasimus wanted him to eat them he finished the dish and then laid down on the hearth feeling very tired. Gerasimus was delighted for he had grown fond of the lion and wanted to keep him, so he hurried back to the dining hall and showed the empty dishes to the abbot. That settled the lion's fate. Then Sporthy became a member of the monastery. He ate with the other monks in the great hall having his own private trencher and bowl beside Gerasimus and he grew to like the mild fare of the good brothers. At least he never sought for anything different. He slept outside the door of his master's cell and guarded the monastery like a faithful watchdog. The monks grew fond of him and petted him so that he lived a happy life on the hill with never wished to go back to the desert with his thorns. Two, wherever Gerasimus went the lion went also. Best of all Leo enjoyed their daily duty of drawing water from the river for that meant a long walk in the open air and a frolic on the bank of the Jordan. One day they had gone as usual Gerasimus the lion and the stupid donkey who was carrying the filled jar on his back. They were jogging comfortably home when a poor man came running out of a tiny hut near the river who begged Gerasimus to come with him and try to cure his sick baby. Of course the good man willingly agreed this was one of the errands which he loved best to do. Stay brother he commanded Leo who wanted to go with him. Stay and watch the foolish donkey and he went with the man feeling sure that the lion would be faithful. Now Leo meant to do his duty but it was a hot and sleepy day and he was very tired. He lay down beside the donkey and kept one eye upon him closing the other one just for a minute but this is a dangerous thing to do. Before he knew it the other eye began to wink and the next moment Leo was sound asleep snoring with his head on his paws. Then it was that the silly donkey began to grow restless. He saw a patch of grass just beyond that look tempting and he moved over to it. Then he saw a greener spot beyond that and then another still farther beyond that till he had taken his silly self a long way off and just then there came along on his way from Dan to Bir Shiba a thief of a camel driver with a band of horses and asses. He saw the donkey grazing there with no one near and he said to himself, aha a fine little donkey I will add him to my caravan and no one will be the wiser and seizing silly by the halter he first cut away the water jar and then rode off with him as fast as he could gallop. Now the sound of pattering feet awakened. Leo he jumped up with a roar just in time to see the camel driver's face as he glanced back from the top of the next hill. Leo ran wildly about sniffing for the donkey but when he found that he had really disappeared he knew the camel driver must have stolen him. He was terribly angry he stood by the water jar and roared and lashed his tail gnashing his jaws as he remembered the thief's wicked face. Now in the midst of his rage out came Gerasimus. He found Leo roaring and foaming at the mouth his red-rimmed eyes looking very fierce and the donkey was gone. Only the water jar lay spilling on the ground then Gerasimus made a great mistake. He thought that poor Leo had grown tired of being a vegetarian of living upon porridge and greens and had tried fresh donkey meat for a change. Oh you wicked lion he cried you've eaten poor silly what shall I do to punish you then Leo roared louder than ever with shame and sorrow but he could not speak to tell how it had happened. The saint was very sad tears stood in his kind eyes you will have to be donkey now he said you will have to do his part of the work since he is now a part of you. Come stand up and let me fasten the water jar upon your back. He spoke sternly and even switched Leo with his olive stick. Leo had never been treated like this he was the king of beasts and it was shame for a king to do donkey's work. His eyes flashed and he had half the mind to refuse and to run away then he looked at the good man and remembered how he had taken out that cruel thorn. So he hung his head and stood still to be harnessed in the donkey's place. Slowly and painfully Leo carried the water jar up the hill but worse than all it was to feel that his dear master was angry with him. Jerasmus told the story to the other monks and they were even more angry than he had been for they did not love Leo so well they all agreed that Leo must be punished so they treated him exactly as if he were a mean silly donkey they gave him only oats and water to eat and made him do all silly's work. They would no longer let him sleep outside his master's door but they tied him in a lonesome stall in the stable and now he could not go to walk with Jerasmus free and happy as the king of beasts should be for he went only in harness but never a kind word from his master's lips. It was a sad time for Leo he was growing thinner and thinner his mane was rough and tangled because he had no heart to keep his smooth and there were several white hairs in his beautiful whiskers. He was fast becoming melancholy and the most pitiful beast in all the world is a melancholy lion. He had been hoping that something would happen to show that it was all a mistake but it seemed as though the world was against him and truth was dead. It was a sad time for Jerasmus too for he still loved Leo though he knew the lion must be punished for the dreadful deed which he was believed to have done. One day he had to go some distance to a neighboring town to buy provisions as usual he took Leo with him to bring back the burden but they did not speak all the way. Jerasmus had done the errands which he had come to do and was fastening the baskets on each side of the lion's back. A group of children were standing around watching the queer site a lion burdened like a donkey and they laughed and pointed their fingers at him making fun of poor Leo. But suddenly the lion growled and began to lash his tail quivering like a cat ready to spring on a mouse. The children screamed and ran away thinking that he was angry with them for teasing him but it was not that a train of camels was passing at the moment and Leo had seen at their head a mean wicked face which he remembered and as the last of the children went by Leo caught sight of silly himself the missing donkey of the monastery. At the sound of Leo's growl silly picked up his ears and stood on his four legs which is not a graceful position for a donkey. Then the camel driver came running up to see what was the matter with his stolen donkey but when he came face to face with Leo lose yellow eyes were glaring terribly the thief trembled and turned pale for he remembered the dreadful roar which followed him that day as he galloped away across the sand holding silly's halter. The poor donkey was quivering with fear thinking that this time he was surely going to be eaten piecemeal but after all this trouble on silly's account the very idea of tasting donkey made Leo sick. He only wanted to show to Erasmus what a mistake had been made. All this time Erasmus had been wondering what the lion's strange behavior meant but when he saw Leo sees the donkey's bridle he began to suspect the truth. He ran up and examined the donkey carefully then Leo looked up in his face and growl softly as if to say here is your old donkey safe and sound you see I didn't eat him after all. That is the real thief and turning to the camel driver he showed his teeth and looked so fierce that the man hid behind a camel crying take away the lion killed the wicked lion but Erasmus sees silly by the bridle this is my beast he said and I shall lead him home with me you stole him thief and my noble lion has found you out and he laid his hand tenderly on Leo's head he is mine you shall not have him cried the camel driver dodging out from behind the camel and trying to drag the donkey away from Erasmus but with a dreadful roar Leo sprang upon him and with his great paw knocked him down and sat upon his stomach do not hurt him Leo said to Erasmus gently but to the camel driver he was very stern look out sir thief he said how you steal again the donkey of an honest man even the yellow beasts of the desert no better than that and will make you ashamed be thankful that you escaped so easily then he took the baskets from Leo's back and bound them upon silly who was glad to receive them once more from his own master's hands for the camel driver had been cruel to him and had often beaten him so he resolved never again to stray away as he had done that unlucky time and when they were all ready to start Erasmus called Leo and he got up from the chest of a camel driver where he had been sitting all this time washing his face with his paws and smiling my poor old Leo said to Erasmus with tears in his eyes I've made you suffer cruelly for a crime of which you were not guilty but I will make it up to you then happily the three set out for home and all the way Erasmus kept his arm about the neck of his line who was wild with joy because he and his dear master were friends once more and the dreadful mistake was discovered they had a joyful reception at the monastery on the hill of course everyone was glad to see poor silly again but best of all it was to know that their dear old line was not a wicked murderer they petted him and gave him so many good things to eat that he almost burst with fatness they made him a soft bed and all the monks took turns and scratching his chin for ten minutes at a time which was what Leo loved better than anything else in the world and so he dwelt happily with the good monks one of the most honored brothers of the monastery always together he and Erasmus lived and slept and ate and took their walks and at last after many many years they grew old together and very tired and sleepy so one night Erasmus who had become an habit the head of the monastery lay gently down to rest and never woke up in the morning but the great lion loved him so that when they laid St. Erasmus to sleep under a beautiful plain tree in the garden Leo lay down upon the mound moaning and grieving and would not move so his faithful heart broke that day and he too slept forever by his dear master's side but this was not a sad thing that happened for think how dreadful the days would have been for Leo without Erasmus and think how sad a life Erasmus would have spent if Leo had left him first oh no it was not sad but very very beautiful that the dear saint and his friendly beast could be happy together all the day and when the long night came they could sleep together side by side in the garden end of chapter 2 chapter 3 of the book of saints and friendly beasts this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org the book of saints and friendly beasts by Abbey Falwell Brown chapter 3 Saint Kenneth of the Gauls once upon a time more than a thousand years ago a great white seagull was circling above the waves which rolled between South England and Wales he was pretending that he was doing this just for fun and he seemed very lazy and dozy as he poised and floated without much trouble to move his wings but really he was looking for a dinner though he did not want anyone to suspect it and he hoped that some unwary fish would swim up near the surface of the water within diving reach of his great claws his keen gray eyes were open all the while unsleepily and not much that was going on down below on the water escaped his notice suddenly his eye caught sight about little black speck on the waves aha he said to himself I think I see my dinner and with a great swoop down he pounced you could hardly think how anything which looks so lazy and quiet could dart so like a flash of lightning but a gall is an air ship that can sink whenever it chooses and when he gives a fish a sudden invitation to step in for dinner the fish is hardly able to refuse but this was no fish which the hungry gall had spied before he reached the water he saw his mistake and wheeling swiftly as only a gall can he flapped back again into the air uttering a screech of surprise Kree he cried there's no scaly water fish such as I like to eat is one of those smooth land fishes with yellow seaweed growing on its head what is it doing here I must see to this Kree no wonder the great bird circled and swooped curiously over the wicker basket which was floating on the waves for on a piece of purple cloth lay many pink and white baby sound asleep his yellow hair curling about the dimpled face and one thumb thrust into the round red mouth well well said the seagull to himself when he had examined the strange floating thing all he wished I must go and tell the others about this something must be done there is a storm brewing and this boat will not bear much rough weather this little land fish cannot swim we must take care of him Kree so off he flapped and as he went he gave the family cry to call the galls about him wherever they might be soon they came circling carelessly swooping saw Kali floating happily darting eagerly according to their various dispositions and as they came they gave the gall cry Kree said they what is the matter follow me said the white gall to the great fleet of great winged airships follow me and you shall see which is gall poetry then he led the flock over the spot where the wicker cradle tossed on the growing waves low said he a land fish in danger of being drowned among the scaly ones let us say that see how pink it is its eyes are a piece of the sky and his voice is not unlike ours listen for by this time the baby had wakened and feeling cold and hungry and wet with the dashing spray opened his pink mouth and began to cry lustily eee way of the baby and as the white gall had said that sounds very like the chief word of the gall tongue poor little things that all the mother galls in course he talks our language he must be saved come brothers and sisters and use your beaks and talons before the clumsy nest in which he lies is sunk beneath the waves Kree little one Kree we will save you now I don't know what Kree means in gall but the baby must have understood for he stopped crying instantly and looked up laughing at the white wings which fanned his face and the kind gray eyes which appeared into his own blue ones so the strong galls sees the corners of the purple cloth on which the baby lay some with their claws some with their hooked beaks and had a signal from the white gall they fluttered up and away bearing the baby over the waves as if he were in a little hammock the white gall flew on before and guided them to land a high shelf which hung over the sea roaring on the rocks below the nicest kind of a gall home and here they laid the baby down and sat about wondering what they must do next but the baby cried we must build him a nest said the white gall these rocks are too hard and too sharp for a little land fish I know how they sleep in their home nests for I have seen now the girls lay their eggs on the bare rocks and think these quite soft enough for the young gall babies but they all agreed that this would never do for the little stranger so they pulled the downy feathers from their breasts till they had a great pile and of this they made the softest bed in which they laid the baby and he slept this is how little saint Kenneth was saved from the waves by the kind seagulls and it goes to show that birds are sometimes kinder than human folk for Kenneth was the Welsh princess little son but no one loved him and his gruel mother had put him into the wicker basket and set him afloat on the waves not caring what became of him nor hoping to see him again but this in after years she did when Kenneth was become a great and famous saint whom all even the prince and princess honored she did not know him then because she believed that he was dead how proud she would have been if she could have called him son but that was many years later now when the galls had made Kenneth this comfortable nest they next wondered what they should do to get him food but the white gall had an idea he flew away over the land and was gone for some time when at last he returned he had with him a kind forest doe a yellow mother deer who had left her little ones at the white galls request to come and feed the stranger baby so Kenneth found a new mother who loved him far better than his own had done a new mother who came every morning and every night and fed him with her milk and he grew strong and fat and hearty the happy baby in his nest upon the rocks where his friends the seagulls watched over him and the mother deer fed and cared for him and washed him clean with her warm crash town tongue now when Kenneth had lived in the seagulls home for some months one day the flock of guardian goals left him while they went upon a fishing trip the mother deer had not yet come with his breakfast but was at home with her own little ones so that for the first time Kenneth was quite alone he did not know this but was sleeping peacefully on his purple quilt when a strange face came peering over the edge of the rocks it was a shepherd from the nearest village who were clamored up to seek galls eggs for his breakfast but his eyes bulged out of his head and he nearly fell over backward into the sea with surprise when he saw Kenneth lying in his nest of feathers the saints preserve us he cried what is this but when he had climbed nearer and saw what it really was he was delighted with the treasure which he had found a beautiful little baby he exclaimed I will take him home to my wife who has no child of her own and forthwith he took up Kenneth wrapped in the purple cloth and started down over the rocks towards his home but Kenneth wakened at the strangers touch and began to wail he had no mind to go with the shepherd he wanted to stay where he was so as they went he screamed at the top of his lungs hoping some of his friends would come and the mother dear who was on her way with her heard his voice she came running in a fright but she could do nothing to protect him being a gentle weaponless creature however she followed anxiously to see what would happen to her darling so they went down the rocks Kenneth and the shepherd with the deer close behind and all the way Kenneth shriek loudly now at last a messenger breeze carried the baby voice out over the water of the Bristol Channel where the girls were fishing what is that they said stopping their work to listen is it not our little land fish calling us in gall he is in trouble or danger brothers to the rescue creed so the flock of girls left their fishing and swooped back to the rock where they had left the baby dreadful the nest was empty they flapped their wide wings and screamed with fear what shall we do but just then up the rocky hill came panting the mother dear her glossy hide was warm and wet and her tongue lulled out with weirdness she had run so fast he is down there she panted the shepherd has carried him to his hut and laid him in a nest such as human folk make the shepherd's wife loves him and would keep him there but he is unhappy and cries for us you must bring him back we will we will scream the galls in chorus guide us to the place mother dear and without another word they rose on their great strong wings and followed where she led back down the hill she took the path over the moor and up the lane to a little white cottage under the rose bushes here is the place said the deer and she paused but the flock of galls with a great whirring and rustling and screaming swooped in at the little low door straight up to the cradle where Kenneth lay crying as if his heart would break the shepherd's wife was sitting by the cradle saying hush and by love and other silly things that Kenneth did not understand but when she heard the rushing of the galls wings she gave a scream and started for the door Cree cried the galls fiercely give us our little one and they perched on the edge of the cradle and looked tenderly at Kenneth then he stopped his crying and began to laugh for these were the voices he knew and loved and in another minute the galls had fastened their beaks and claws into the purple cloth and once more bore him away as they had done when they saved him from the sea out of the door they flew right over the shepherd's astonished head while his wife stared wildly at the empty cradle and soon Kenneth was lying in his own nest on the ledge above the roaring billows after this no one tried again to bring the galls adopt the baby back among human folk little Kenneth carried and thrived with his feathered brothers growing fat and strong when he came to walk he was somewhat lame to be sure one of his legs was shorter than the other and he limped like a poor girl who has hurt his foot but this trouble Kenneth very little and the girls were kind he was always happy and contented full of singing and laughter and kind words for all and here in his wild spray sprinkle nest above the Atlantic breakers Kenneth dwelt all his life the Welsh peasants of the Gower Peninsula revered him as their saint knowing him to be a holy man beloved by the girls and the deer and all the wild creatures of shore and forest who did their kindly best to make him happy End of Chapter 3 Chapter 4 of the Book of Saints and Friendly Beasts this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org The Book of Saints and Friendly Beasts by Abbey Farwell Brown Saint Lonomars Cow Saint Lonomar had once been a shepherd boy in the meadows of sunny France and had lived among the gentle creatures of the fold and buyer so he understood them and their ways very well and they know him for their friend for this is a secret which one cannot keep from the animals whose speech is silent Saint Lonomar had a cow of whom he was fond of sleek black and white beauty who pastored in the green meadows of Chartres near the monastery and came home every evening to be milked and to rub her soft nose against her master's hand telling him how much she loved him Mignon was a very wise cow you could tell that by the curve of her horns and by the wrinkles in her forehead between the eyes and especially by the way she switched her tail and indeed a cow ought to be wise who has been brought up by a whole monastery of learned men with Lonomar the wisest person in all the country for her master and friend it was a dark night after milking time Lonomar had put Mignon in her stall with a supper of hay before her and had bat her good night and a pleasant cudd time then he had shut the heavy barn door and had gone back to his cell to sleep soundly till morning but no sooner had his lantern disappeared through the gate of the monastery then out of the forest came five black figures creeping creeping along the wall and across the yard and up to the great oak door they were all muffled in long black cloaks and were their caps pulled down over their faces as if they were afraid of being recognized they were wicked looking men and they had big knives stuck in their belts quite convenient to their hands it was a band of robbers and they had come to steal Lonomar's cow who was known to be the handsomest in all that part of the world very softly they forced open the great door and very softly they stole across the floor to Mignon's stall and through a strong halter about her neck to lead her away but first they were careful to tie up her mouth and a piece of cloth so that she could not low and tell the whole monastery what danger she was in Mignon was angry for that was just what she had meant to do as soon as she saw that these were no friends but wicked men who had come for no good to her or to the monastery but now she had to go with them dumbly although she struggled and kicked and made all the noise she could but the monks were already sound asleep and snoring on their hard pallets and never suspected what was going on so near to them even Lonomar who turned over in his sleep and murmured whole Mignon stand still when he dimly recognized a sound of kicking even Lonomar did not waken to rescue his dear Mignon from the hands of those villains who were taking her away the robbers let her hurriedly down the lane across the familiar meadows and into the dense woods where they could hide from anyone who happened to pass by now it was dark and they could see but dimly where they were going the paths crossed and Chris crossed in so many directions that they soon began to quarrel about which was the right one to take they did not know this part of the country very well for they were strangers from a different province who had come to Lonomar's home because they had heard of his famous cow and were bound to have her for themselves very soon the robbers were lost in the tangle of trees and bushes and did not know where they were or in which direction they ought to go one said go that way pointing towards the north and one said no no go that way pointing directly south the third grumbled and said whole fellows not so but this way and he strode towards the east while the fourth man cried you are all wrong comrades it is there we must go and he started to lead Mignon towards the west but the fifth robber confessed that indeed he did not know let us follow the cow he cried she is the only one who can see in the dark I've always heard that animals will lead you right if you leave the matter to them now as the other robbers really did not have the least idea in the world as to which was the right direction this seemed to them as sensible a plan as any so they stripped the halter from Mignon's head and said hi there get along cow and show us the way Mignon looked at them through the dark with her big brown eyes and laughed inside it seemed too good to be true they had left her free and were bidding her to guide them on their way out of the forest back to their own country Mignon chuckled again so loudly that they thought she must be choking and hastily untied the cloth from her mouth this was just what she wanted for she longed to chew her cut again she tossed her head and gave a gentle move as if to say come on simple men and I will show you the way but really she was thinking to herself aha my fine fellows now I will lead you up pretty chase and you shall be repaid for this night's work aha Mignon was a very wise cow she had not pastured in the matters about Shartwa with blind eyes she knew the paths north and south and east and west through the forest and the fern and even in the dark of the tangled under brush she could feel out the way quite plainly but she said to herself I must not make the way too easy for these wicked men I must punish them all I can now that it is my turn so she led them round about and round about through mud and brambles and swamps over little brooks and through big my repons where they were nearly drowned round about and round about all night long they wanted to rest but she went so fast that they could not catch her to make her stand still and they dare not lose sight of her big whiteness through the dark for now they were completely lost and could never find their way out of the wilderness without her so all night long she kept them panting and puffing and waiting after her till they were all worn out cold and shivering with wet scratched and bleeding eyes and cross as ten sticks but when it last an hour after sunrise Mignon led them out into an open clearing their faces brightened oh I think I remember this place said the first man yes it has a familiar look we must be near home said the second we were at least twenty five miles from the monks of Chartres by this time said the third and I wish we had some breakfast by another hour we were safe in our home den said the fourth and then we will have some bread and milk but the fifth interrupted them saying look who is that man in gray they all looked up quickly and began to tremble but Mignon gave a great move and galloped forward to meet the figure who had stepped out from behind a bush it was saint Lanimar himself he had been up ever since dawn looking for his precious cow for when he went back he had found the barn empty and her footprints with those of the five robbers in the moist earth had told the story and pointed which way the company had gone but it was not his plan to scold or frighten the robbers he walked up to them for they were so surprised to see him that they stood still trembling forgetting even to run away good morning friends said Lanimar kindly you have brought your first time has left her stall to wander far I thank you good friends for bringing Mignon to me for she is not only a treasure in herself but she is my dearest friend and I should be most unhappy to lose her the men stood staring at Lanimar in astonishment they could hardly believe their eyes and their ears where did he come from what did he mean but when they realized how kind his voice was and they were very much ashamed they hung their heads guiltily and then all of a sudden they fell at his feet the five of them confessing how it had all come about and begging his pardon we stole the cow master said the first one and carried her these many miles away said the second we are wicked robbers and deserve to be punished said the third but we beg you to pardon us cried the fourth let us depart kind father we pray you will protect us on our way for we are sorely puzzled nay nay answered saint Lanimar pleasantly the cow hath led you a long way how she not you must be both tired and hungry you cannot journey yet and in truth they were miserable objects to see so that the saint's kind heart was filled with pity robbers though they were follow me he said by this time they were too weak and weary to think of disobeying so meekly they formed Lanimar and the cow going cheerfully at the head for these two were very glad to be together again and his arm was thrown lovingly about her glossy neck as they went that what was the amazement of the five robbers when in a short minute or two they turned a corner and their close beside them stood the monastery itself with the very barn from which they had stolen the night before all this time the clever cow had led them in great circles round about her own home and after all this scrambling of wading through the darkness in the morning they were no farther on their journey than they have been at the start what a wise cow that was and what a good breakfast of brand porridge and hay and sweet turnips Lanimar gave her to pay for her hard night's work the five robbers had a good breakfast too but perhaps they did not relish it as Mignon did hers for their consciences were heavy besides they sat at the very table and all the monks stood by in a row saying nothing but percing up their mouths and licking pious which was trying and when the robbers came to drink their porridge Lanimar said mildly that is Mignon's milk which you drink sirs it is the best milk in France and you are welcome to it for your breakfast today since we have such reason to be grateful to you for not putting it beyond our reach forever all my friends we could ill spare so were the a cow so good a friend so faithful a guide but I trust that you will not need her services again perhaps by daylight you can find your way home without her if I direct you the high road is plain and straight for honest men I commend it to you so when they were refreshed and rested Lanimar led them forth and pointed out the way as he had promised Ian Mignon stood on the crest of a little hill and watched them out of sight then they turned and looked at one another the wise saint and his wise cow and they both chuckled inside end of chapter four chapter five of the book of saints and friendly beasts this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org the book of saints and friendly beasts but abbey far well brown chapter five saint Werberg and her goose one saint Werberg was a king's daughter a real princess and very beautiful but unlike most princesses of the fairy tales she cared nothing at all about princes or pretty clothes or jewels or about having a good time her only longing was to do good and to make other people happy and to grow good and wise herself so that she could do this all the better so she studied and studied worked and worked and she became a holy woman and Abbas and while she was still very young and beautiful she was given charge of a whole convent of nuns and school girls not much younger than herself because she was so much wiser and better than anyone else in all the country side but though saint Werberg had grown so famous and so powerful she still remained a simple sweet girl all the country people loved her for she was always eager to help them to cure the little sick children and to advise their fathers and mothers she never failed to answer the questions which puzzled them and so she set their poor troubled minds at ease she was so wise that she knew how to make people do what she knew to be right even when they wanted to do wrong and not only human folk but animals felt the power of this young saint for she loved and was kind to them also she studied about them and grew to know their queer habits and their animal way of thinking and she learned their language too now when one loves a little creature very much and understands it well one can almost always make it do what one wishes that is if one wishes right for some time saint Werberg had been interested in a flock of wild geese which came every day to get their breakfast in the convent and to have a morning bath in the pond beneath the window of her cell she grew to watch until the big long necked gray things with their short tails and clumsy feet settled with a harsh honk in the grass then she loved to see the big ones waddle clumsily about in search of dainties for the children while the babies stood still flapping their wings they were fed there was one goose which was her favorite he was the biggest of them all fed and happy looking he was the leader and formed the point of the V in which a flock of wild geese always flies he was the first to alight in the meadow and it was he who chose the spot for their breakfast saint Werberg named him who had never spoken to one another master Hugh was the convent steward a big surly fellow who did not love birds nor animals except when they were served up for him to eat Hugh also had seen the geese in the meadow but instead of thinking how nice and funny they were and how amusing it was to watch them eat the worms and flop about in the water he thought only were to find goose pie and especially he looked at gray king the plumpest and most tempting of them all and smacked his lips oh how I wish I had you in my frying pan he said to himself now it's happened that worms were rather scarce in the convent meadow that spring it had been dry and the worms had crawled away to moisture places so gray king and his followers found it hard to get breakfast enough one morning saint Werberg looked for them in the usual spot at first she was only surprised but as she waited and waited and still they did not come she began to feel much alarmed just as she was going down to her own dinner the steward Hugh appeared before her cat in hand and bowing low his fat face was puffed and red with hurrying up the convent hill and he looked angry what is it master Hugh asked saint Werberg in her gentle voice have you not money enough to buy tomorrow's breakfast for it was his duty to pay the convent bills nay lady Abbas he answered gruffly it is not lack of money that troubles me it is abundance of geese geese how why exclaimed saint Werberg startled what of geese master Hugh this of geese lady Abbas she replied a flock of long necked thieves have been in my new planted field of corn and have stolen all that was to make my harvest saint Werberg bit her lips what geese were things she faltered though she guessed the truth whence the rascals come I know not he answered but this I know they are the same which gather every morning in the meadow yonder I spied the leader of that fine wreath with the black ring about his neck it should be a noose indeed for hanging I would have them punished lady Abbas they shall be punished master Hugh said saint Werberg firmly and she went sadly up the stair to her cell without tasting so much as a bit of bread for her dinner for she was sorry to find her friends such naughty birds and she did not want to punish them especially great king but she knew that she must do her duty when she had put on her cloak and hood she went out into the courtyard behind the convent where there were pens for keeping doves and chickens and little pigs and standing beside the largest of these pens saint Werberg made a strange cry like the voice of the geese themselves a cry which seemed to say come here great king's geese with great king at the head and as she stood there waiting the sky grew black above her head with the shattering of wings and the honking of the geese grew louder and nearer till they circled and lighted in a flock at her feet she saw that they looked very plump and well fed and great king was the fattest of the flock all she did was to look at them steadily and reproachfully they came waddling bashfully up to her and stood in a line before her with drooping heads it seemed as if something made them stay and listen to what she had to say although they would much rather fly away then she talked to them gently and told them how bad they were to steal corn and spoil the harvest and as she talked they grew to love her tender voice even though it scolded them they cried bitterly as she took each one by the wings and shook him for his sins and ripped him not too severely tears stood in the round eyes of the geese also not because she hurt them for she had hardly ruffled their thick feathers but because they were sorry to her pain the beautiful saint for they saw that she loved them and the more she punished them the better they loved her last of all she punished great king but when she had finished she took him up in her arms and kissed him before putting him in the pen with the other geese where she meant to keep them in prison for a day and a night then great king hung his head and in his heart he promised that neither he nor his followers should ever again steal anything no matter how hungry they were now saint werberg had the thought in his heart and was glad and she smiled as she turned away she was sorry to keep them in the cage but she hoped it might do them good and she said to herself they shall have at least one good breakfast of convent porridge before they go saint werberg trusted Hugh the steward for she did not yet know the wickedness of his heart so she told him how she had punished the geese for robbing him and how she was sure they would never do so anymore then she let him see that they had a breakfast of convent porridge the next morning and after that they should be set free to go where they chose Hugh was not satisfied he thought the geese had not been punished enough and he went away grumbling but not daring to say anything cross to the lady abbas who was the king's daughter too saint werberg was busy all the rest of that day and early the next morning too so she could not get out again to see the prisoned geese but when she went to herself for the morning rest after her work was done she sat down by the window and looked out smilingly thinking to see her friend great king and the others taking their bath in the meadow but there were no geese to be seen werberg's face grew gray and even as she sat there wondering what had happened she heard a prodigious honking overhead and a flock of geese came straggling down not in the usual trim v but all unevenly and without a leader great king was gone they fluttered about crying and asking advice of one another till they heard saint werberg's voice calling them anxiously then with the cry of joy they flew straight up to her window and began talking altogether trying to tell her what had happened gray king is gone they said gray king is stolen by the wicked stewart gray king was taken away when we were set free and we shall never see him again what shall we do dear lady without our leader saint werberg was horrified to think that her dear gray king might be in danger oh how that wicked stewart had deceived her she began to feel angry then she turned to the birds dear geese she said earnestly you have promised me never to steal again have you not and they all honked yes then I will go and question the stewart she continued and if he is guilty I will punish him and make him bring gray king back to you the geese flew away feeling somewhat comforted and saint werberg sent for master hue he came looking much surprised for he could not imagine what she wanted of him whereas the gray goose with the black ring about his neck began saint werberg without any preface looking at him keenly he stammered and grew confused I don't know lady abbas he faltered you not guess that she cared especially about the geese nay you know well said saint werberg for I bad you feed them and set them free this morning but one is gone a fox must have stolen it said he guiltily I a fox with black hair and I read that face quote saint werberg sternly do not tell me lies you have taken him master hue I can read it in your heart then he grew weak and confessed I I have taken the great gray goose he said faintly was it so very wrong he was a friend of mine and I love him dearly said saint werberg at these words the steward turned very pale indeed I did not know he gasped go and bring him to me then commanded the saint and pointed to the door master hue slunk out looking very sick and miserable and horribly frightened for the truth was that he had been tempted by great king's fatness he had carried the goose home and made him into a hot juicy pie which he had eaten for that morning's breakfast so how could he bring the bird back to saint werberg no matter how sternly she commanded all day long he hid in the woods not daring to let himself be seen by anyone for saint werberg was a king's daughter and if king should learn what he had done to the pet of the lady abyss he might have hue himself punished by being baked into a pie for the king's hounds to eat but at night he could bear it no longer he heard the voice of saint werberg calling his name very softly from the convent master hue master hue come bring me my goose and just as the geese could not help coming when she called them so he thought must go whether he would or no he went into his pantry and took down the remains of the great pie he gathered up the bones of poor great king and a little basket and with chattering teeth and shaking limbs stole up to the convent and knocked at the wicked gate saint werberg was waiting for him i knew you would come she said have you brought my goose then silently and with trembling hands and bones one by one and laid them on the ground before saint werberg so he stood with bowed head and knocking knees waiting to hear her pronounce his punishment oh you wicked man she said sadly you have killed my beautiful great king who never did harm to anyone except to steal a little corn i did not know you loved him lady faltered the man in self defense you ought to have known it turned you ought to have loved him yourself i did lady abbas confessed the man that was the trouble i loved him too well in a pie oh selfish gluttonous man she exclaimed in disgust can you not see the beauty of a dear little live creature till it is dead and fit only for your table i shall have you talk better henceforth you shall be made to study the lives and ways of all things which live about the convent and never again for punishment shall you eat flesh of any bird or beast we will see if you cannot be taught to love them when they have ceased to mean pie moreover you shall be confined for two days and two nights in the pen where i kept the geese and porridge shall be your only food the while go master hue so the wicked steward was punished but he learned his lesson and after a while he grew to love the birds almost as well as saint werberg herself but she had not yet finished with great king after master hue had gone she bent over the pitiful little pile of bones which was all that was left of that unlucky pie a tear fell upon them from her beautiful eyes and kneeling down she touched them with her white fingers speaking softly the name of the bird whom she had loved the king arise she said and hardly had the words left her mouth when a strange thing happened the bones stirred lifted themselves and in a moment a glad honk sounded in the air and great king himself black ring and all stood ruffling his feathers before her she clasped him in her arms and kissed him again and again then calling the rest of the flock by her strange she showed them their lost leader restored as good as new what a happy flock of geese flew honking away in an even bee with the handsomest grayest pompous goose in all the world at their head and what an exciting story he had to tell his mates surely no other goose ever lived who could tell how it felt to be made into pie to be eaten and to have his bones picked clean by a greedy steward this is how saint werberg made lifelong friendship with a flock of big gray geese and I dare say even now in England one of their descendants may be found with a black ring around his neck the handsomest grayest pompous goose in all the world and when he hears the name of saint werberg which has been handed down to him from grandfather to grandson for twelve hundred years he will give an especially loud honk of praise dear saint werberg one would almost be willing to make a goose of himself if so he might see her again with all her feathered friends about her end of chapter 5 the book of saints and friendly beasts by abby farwell brown the ballad of saint athracta's stags athracta was a maiden fair a prince's daughter she down to her feet fell golden hair a wondrous sight to see and all amid this golden shower the sweetest rosebud face blossomed like a dew-fed flower upon a stem of grace yet loved she not the court of kings but in the wild would be with one made her hair to braid and bear her company so near loquera silver sheen they built of turf and bark a hut wherein from springtide green they dwelt through winter's dark on seven crossroads the hut was made that they might offer rest to pilgrims by the nightway laid in strangers hunger pressed to draw them water from the lake to till their little soil to ancient horses did they take outworn for other toil once gallant chargers these had been keen-eyed and prance and gay who turnies brave and wars had seen all decked in bright array but now their age in peace was spent by kind athracta's side no gallant wars no tournament and yet they served with pride their neighbors in the forest glades were stately antlered deer nor of the two most holy maids had these their brothers fear so dwelt the maids there alone for many months and years the doings of the world unknown its wars its woes its tears but strife was stirring in the land and kings must castles build to guard them from the foeman's hand with fire and weapon-filled and so the kings most stern decree went forth upon a day my serfs must build a fort for me each must his service pay each man and maiden must fulfill in this great work his share it is the king of connet's will let tardy hands beware athracta sent unto the king we be but maidens twain my liege we cannot do this thing I beg we may refrain but sternly sent he back the word ye maids must do your part he was a hard and cruel lord no pity touched his heart so forth they fared into the wood athracta with her maid to fell the timber as they could without of men for aid heavy the axe and full of pain each weak and skillless stroke yet strove the maids again again with walnut beech and oak until upon the wagon cast by which the horses stood their bleeding hands had piled at last the goodly logs of wood but when athracta saw the steed straining with feeble will to draw the heavy load it needs must make her eyes to fill athracta spoke all piteously a lack poor broken things must you too bear your painful share to save the pride of kings how can I ease your burden how my faithful servant still my little hands are bleeding now with toil beyond their skill a mistress dear then spoke her maid these be but feeble nags how would the kings pride be dismayed if you could harness stags thou sayest well athracta vowed come hither stags she cried and lo the thought of hooves grew loud ere yet the echo died come hither stags or green and glade the silver summons thrilled and soon the space about the maid with antlered kings was filled through moss and fern entangled trees 12 panting creatures broke and bending low their stately knees they knelt beneath the yoke now harnessed in the horses stead the great stags strained their best to please the lady at their head and follow her best but low a vexing thing then happened scarce had they gained the road the rusty chains of iron snapped beneath the heavy load yet paused she not in weak despair this noble heart had made but loosed her heavy golden hair out from this double braid she loosed her locks so wonder bright and shook them to the breeze it seemed a beam of yellow light had sifted through the trees then from amid this golden net she plucked some silken strands and where the chains had first been set she bound them with her hands she tied the ends against the strain and knotted them with care then bade the stags pull once again upon the ropes of hair and lo the slender stags held and lo the antlered stags went forth to prove their generous love lent to a maiden's needs straight to the king her gift they bore to fill his heart with shame and her true maiden went before to show him whence they came now when the king this wonder saw he turned all pale and red she hath a greater power than law he vowed and bowed his head she hath a greater power than I she slaves the wild stags be and golden hair like this might snare even the wild heart of me no need to her of castles stout no need of moat or tower with antler guardians about her lonely wildwood bower no need to her of watch or ward with friends like these at hand bid her from me henceforth to be queen of her little land henceforth she is no surf of mine nor subject to my throne where her golden hair may shine that is her realm alone so where the seven crossroads met still dwelt the holy maid her hut a place of refuge set for all who shelter prayed her realm a holy place of peace where with the ancient nags lived out their days in pleasant ways athractas faithful stags end of section 6 recording by Melissa Green chapter 7 of the book of saints and friendly beasts this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Melissa Green the book of saints and friendly beasts by Abby Farewell-Brown chapter 7 Saint Kentagurn and the Robin once upon a time Saint Servin kept a school near Glasgow in Scotland and many boys big and little came there to study now of all these boys there was one who surpassed the rest in everything that makes a good scholar Kentagurn was one of the smallest boys in the school and yet he stood at the head of all his classes it was Kentagurn who found the answer to the naughtiest problem and who read off the hardest passages of Latin when no one else was able to make sense of them it was Kentagurn who learned his lessons first and who recited them best it was Kentagurn who sang the loudest and was never off the pitch and good Saint Servin loved him best of all his pupils for all these reasons and for several more like them the other boys were jealous of Kentagurn and did everything they could to trouble him and make him unhappy they tried to make him fail in his lessons by talking and laughing when it was his turn to recite but this was a useless trick his answers were always ready so they had to give this up they teased him and called him names trying to make him lose his temper so that he would be punished but he was too good-natured to be crossed with them so they had to give this up they tried to coax him into mischief and led him to do something which would make Saint Servin angry with him but Kentagurn loved his master too well to do anything to trouble him so the boys had finally to give this up also there was only one way to bring Kentagurn into disgrace they must plan a trap and make him fall into it for weeks they wracked their brains trying to think what they should do but at last they thought they had hit upon a plan it was all concerned with a fire in those days there were no matches with which to strike a light in a second matches had not been invented in the year 600 nor indeed for many centuries afterwards their way of making a fire was by rubbing two dry sticks together until they grew hot and a spark fell out upon the wood which was to be kindled and this was a very difficult and tiresome thing to do especially in the winter when there were few dry sticks to be found so the fire which was kept burning night and day in the great fireplace of Saint Servin's school was tended carefully and it would be a very serious thing to let this go out for how would the breakfast be cooked and the rooms warmed and the candles lighted for the morning service in the chapel if there were no fire on the great hearth so for a week at a time the boys had to take turns intending the fire and the boy whose turn it was had to rise at midnight and put on wood enough to keep the blaze bright until morning and oh how angry Saint Servin would be with any boy who was so careless as to let the fire go out in the night now it was Kentagurn's week to tend the fire and for several days he did tend it faithfully but the boys were waiting for a chance to play their mean trick on the fourth night Kentagurn rose as the chapel clock boomed to twelve and went down to the kitchen to give the hungry fire its midnight lunch of snappy wood but as soon as he stepped into the great empty hall he knew something was wrong the air was damp and chilly and there was no crimson glow on the hearth stones Kentagurn shivered and ran to the fireplace peering into the black cavern there was nothing but a heap of white ashes and half burnt wood then Kentagurn's heart sank for he knew he should be blamed for carelessness although he suspected that someone had thrown water on the fire and put it out and he guessed that it was the other boys who had done this spiteful thing to bring him into trouble he did not know what to do but a sudden courage came to him he took up a log of wood from the corner and laid it on the heap of ashes then bending down he blew gently on the pile and oh wonderful to say it was as if he had scratched a dozen cards of matches and had touched them to a pile of paper hardly had his breath stirred the ashes and made the moss shiver on the great log when the whole fireplace was filled with dancing flames and the wood began to snap and crack in the best kind of ablaze Kentagurn laughed softly to himself as he stole back to bed and said never a word to the sleeping boys who had tried to make mischief for him when they woke in the morning they began to chuckle and nudge one another expecting every moment to see St. Servant come frowning in search of the careless Kentagurn and every boy was ready to declare that the fire was burning brightly when he went to bed and that Kentagurn had forgotten to go down and tended at midnight but they were prevented from telling this falsehood for the bell rang as usual for breakfast and down they all went to find a beautiful fire burning on the hearth and Kentagurn going with his taper to light the chapel candelabra they did not know how it had happened till long long afterwards when Kentagurn had made many other wonders come to pass and when he was known far and wide as a saint even wiser than Servant his master but meanwhile the boys hated him more than ever when they saw how much better St. Servant loved him every day and once more they planned to bring him into disgrace but this time it was an even more cruel thing which they meant to do for if they succeeded it would not only cause Kentagurn to be punished and make St. Servant unhappy but it would cost the life of an innocent little creature who never had done any harm to a single one of them St. Servant was a kind hearted old man and he had a robin red breast of which he was very fond a black-eyed fellow who ate his breakfast out of the saint's hand and when the master chanted the Psalms the little chorister would perch on Servant's shoulder and flap his wings, tittering as if he were trying to join in the songs of praise now one morning when the coast was clear the boys killed the little robin red breast and pulled off his head and then the biggest boy of them all took the dead bird in his hand and followed by all the rest ran screaming to St. Servant himself pretending to feel very sorry oh father! cried the big boy just see what the wicked Kentagurn has done look at your robin whom Kentagurn has killed then they all began to cry out against Kentagurn and some even declared that they had seen him do the wicked deed which was a horrid story and their tongues must have smarted well as they spoke it of course St. Servant was very sad and angry he tenderly took the little limp body in his hand and went to seek Kentagurn the other boys tiptoeing after him to see the fun and by and by they came upon him in a window bending over a big book which he was studying St. Servant strode up to him and laid a heavy hand upon his shoulder look at this boy he cried with a sad voice look at this cruel deed and tell me what shall be done to punish the slayer did I not love the robin even as I loved you ungrateful boy Kentagurn turned quite pale with surprise and sorrow and the tears came into his eyes oh the dear little bird he said did I not love him too who has killed him father you did you did we saw you cried all the boys in a chorus Kentagurn turned and looked at them in astonishment he did not say a word but his cheeks grew red in his eyes flashed this was more than even his patients could stand well what have you to say for yourself queried St. Servant sternly Kentagurn turned to him sadly oh father he said how can you believe that I would do such a cruel thing to hurt the bird and to make you sad I did not do it father can you prove it asked St. Servant still more sternly for he thought the boy was telling a falsehood to hide his guilt give me the robin father said Kentagurn holding out his hand I will prove that it was not this hand which cowardly used so small a thing as a tiny bird then holding the limp body in one hand and the downy head in the other he stood before them all looking up towards heaven and made his little prayer oh father in heaven he said proved to my father on earth that I have not done this cruel thing if I am innocent give me power to undo the wrong and restore life to the little singer who loved to praise thee with his sweet voice then gently he set the head in place where it should be and as his tears fell upon the robin's neck it seemed to grow again to the body the feathers ruffled and the limp wings fluttered feebly the black eyes opened and out of the bill came a little chirp then the robin hopped out of Kentagurn's hand and across the floor to St. Servant's feet and flew up on his master's shoulder there he sat and sang such a carol of joy as made the great hall ring again but all the guilty boys put their fingers in their ears and turned pale as if they understood what he was saying and as if it told the truth about their jealousy and their cruelty and their falsehood so St. Servant learned that Kentagurn was innocent and saw how it had all happened the real culprits were severely punished but Kentagurn became even dearer than before to his master who helped him in every way to become the great and famous saint he afterwards was and the robin was another fond and faithful friend and never to forget that Kentagurn had restored his life and always sang his sweetest song for the boy you may be sure that after this the boys gave up trying to get the better of Kentagurn they had learned that lesson and thenceforth they were more kind and respectful to a boy over whom some kind of power seemed to keep special charge End of Section 7 Recording by Melissa Green Chapter 8 of The Book of Saints and Friendly Beasts This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Melissa Green The Book of Saints and Friendly Beasts by Abbey Farwell-Brown Chapter 8 St. Blaise and His Beasts This is the story of a saint who loved all animals and whom the animals therefore loved in return. St. Blaise was the son of wealthy people in Sebast, a town of Armenia near Turkey, in the days when it was fashionable to be a heathen. He was not like the other boys, his playmates, for he was a Christian, full of sympathy for everything that lived. More than all things he longed to learn how to help the creatures that he loved, men and women, the children, the dumb beasts, and everything that suffered and was sick. So he went to school and studied medicine, and by and by he grew up to be a wise man with a big, tender heart. Everyone loved him, for he did great good among the people of his village, tending their children and healing their cattle and household pets. Nor did he neglect even the wild beasts, for St. Blaise loved to go away into the woods and fields where he could learn about the untamed creatures and teach them to be his friends. The birds and beasts and fishes grew to love him because he never hurt them, but talked to them kindly and healed them when they were sick or wounded. The timid creatures were brave in his presence, and the fierce ones grew tame and gentle at the sound of his voice. The little birds brought him food, and the four-footed beasts ran errands and were his messengers. The legends say that they used to visit him in his forest home, which was a cave on Mount Argus near the city of Sebast. Every morning they came to see how their master was faring, to receive his blessing and lick his hands in gratitude. If they found the saint at his prayers they never disturbed him, but waited in a patient, wistful group at the door of his cave until he rose from his knees. One day a poor woman came to him in great distress because a wolf had carried away her pig. St. Blaise was sorry to hear that one of his friends had done so wicked a thing. He bade the woman go home and said he would see what could be done. He called the wolf up to him and took his head gravely at the culprit. You bad wolf! he said. Don't you know that the pig was a friend of mine too? He is not handsome, but he is nice and plump, and he is the only pig of a poor lone woman. How could you be so selfish? Go straight home and get my friend Pig and drive him down to the woman's house. Then the wolf went sheepishly away and did what the good saint had told him to do. For the pig had not yet been made into pork. And when the poor woman saw the pig run grunting into her yard chased by the repentant wolf, she fell upon his fat neck and wept tears of joy. Then the wolf went back to St. Blaise who told him he was a good wolf and gave him a dish of fresh milk to cool his throat. St. Blaise was chosen bishop by the Christians who loved him for his piety and his charity and the wood beasts were glad of this honour done to their dear master. But the poor creatures did not know how dangerous it was to be a Christian in those days and especially to be a bishop who had much power over the people. For the heathen were jealous of him and feared that he would make all the people Christians too when they saw the wonderful cures which his medicines made. But they could not find him for he was living in his forest cave. This was three hundred and sixteen years after Christ's birth and the cruel Emperor Licinius was causing many Christians to be killed. Agricola was the governor whom Licinius had appointed in Sebast and he sent his soldiers into the mountains to get some wild beasts for the games in the arena where the Christians were to be put to death. But they could not find any beasts at all in the mountains or in the fields or valleys or woods. They thought this very strange. But by and by they came by accident to the cave where St. Blaise lived and there were the animals all the fierce beasts whom they feared lions, tigers, leopards, bears and wolves making their morning call upon St. Blaise and sitting quietly about. In the midst was Blaise himself praying so earnestly that he never noticed the men with nets and spears who had come to entrap the beasts. Although the creatures were frightened they did not move nor growl for fear of disturbing their master but kept quite still glaring at the soldiers with big yellow eyes. The men were so astonished at the sight that they stole away without capturing an animal or saying a word to St. Blaise for they thought he must be Orpheus or some heathen god who charmed wild beasts. They went to the governor and told him what they had seen and he said Ho! I know he is a Christian. The Christians and the beasts are great friends. Go and bring him to me straight away. And this time the soldiers went in the afternoon when the animals were taking their after-dinner nap so they found St. Blaise quite alone again at his devotions. They told him he must come with them but instead of being frightened he said joyfully I am ready. I have long expected you. For he was a holy man willing to die for his faith and holy men often knew what was going to happen to them. It was on his way to prison that St. Blaise cured his last patient a sick child whose mother brought him to the holy man's feet begging help. The child had swallowed a bone and was choking to death poor little thing but St. Blaise touched the baby's throat and the trouble was gone. This is why in olden times people with sore throats always prayed to St. Blaise to make them well. The good bishop was put in prison and after that they tortured him trying to make him promise not to be a Christian any longer but St. Blaise refused to become a heathen and to sacrifice to the gods and so they determined that he must die. They would have put him in the arena with the wild beasts but they knew that these faithful creatures would not harm their friend. The beasts could not save him from the cruel men but at least they would not do anything to hurt him. Those which were still left in the forest held and moaned about his deserted cave and went sniffing and searching for him everywhere like stray dogs who have lost their master. It was a sad day for the wood creatures when St. Blaise was taken from them forever. The soldiers were told to drown St. Blaise in the neighbouring lake but he made the sign of the cross as they cast him from the boat and the water bore him up so that he walked upon it as if it were a floor just as Christ did once upon the sea of Galilee. When the soldiers tried to do the same however thinking to follow and recapture him they sank and were drowned. At last of his own free will St. Blaise walked back to the shore clothed in light and very beautiful to look upon for he was ready and eager to die. He let the heathen seize him and soon after this was beheaded. In very old times it used to be the custom in England on the 3rd of February to light great bonfires on all the hills, blazes in honour of his name and we can well believe that all the little animals came out of their dens and burrows and nests at the sight of these fires and thought with loving hearts of the dear old saint who so many years ago used to be kind to their ancestors, the beasts in the forests of Armenia. CHAPTER IX ST. CUTHBURT'S PEACE St. Cuthbert was a scotch shepherd boy who tended his flocks along the river Tweed near Malrose. Night and day he lived in the open air, drinking in the sunshine and sleeping on the heather and he grew up big and strong and handsome, the finest lad in all that part of the country. He could run faster than any one and was always the champion in the wrestling matches to which he challenged the village boys for miles around and you should have seen him turn some results and walk on his hands. No one in all the world could beat him at that. St. Cuthbert lived more than a thousand years ago and yet the people of Scotland still tell tales of his strength and agility and grace in games with the other boys. He was their leader and chief and everyone was sure that he would go up to be a famous man. But he tended his sheep faithfully until the time came, for he was growing and learning all the while. In his happy outdoor life he became wise in many things which other people never know. He found the secret of the whispering wind and the song of the brook. He knew what the chatter of the squirrels meant and the caw of the crows. He learned the ways of all the little bright-eyed animals whom he met in his walks over the hills of heather and he grew to love every creature which has fur or feathers and goes upon four legs or on two. Especially he loved the birds. He used to watch them for hours together, the little larks gurgling up and trilling down again, the great gulls swooping and curling and sailing like white ships in the blue sea of sky. And he longed, oh how he longed, to have wings and to flutter and float away like the birds. One night while he lay watching his sheep upon the pink heather which bears you up like a springy cushion, he saw a strange thing in the sky. There seemed a great pathway of light and down at a band of angels came from heaven, clothed all in rainbow glory and in a little while he saw them mounting back again, bearing a beautiful blossom among them and he guessed that it was the soul of some holy man being carried to paradise. Sure enough the next day the news went abroad that Aidan, the holy bishop of Lindisfarne, had died that very night. Then Cuthbert knew that he, a little shepherd boy, had been blessed to see a holy vision. He wondered why, but he felt sure that he meant some special grace to him. Day after day, night after night, he thought about it, wondering and wondering. And at last he made up his mind that he too would become a holy man and then perhaps he should find out all about it. He was fifteen years old when he came to Melrose Abbey to be made a monk and there he lived and grew rich with the wisdom of books which, added to the wisdom of the woods and hills and streams that he had already possessed, made him a very wise man indeed. He had not been there long before everyone, even the abbot himself, saw that this glorious young monk was the most powerful of them all. Everyone obeyed and reverenced him. Everyone came to ask his advice and help. Everyone sent for him in time of trouble. With his beautiful face and strong body, his kind eyes and great hands tender as a woman's little sick child, he was loved by the people in all the country around for he had the great gift of sympathy. In those years while he had lived under the kind hot sun, his heart had grown mellow and soft, like a ripe apple. Many of the people in the far-off hills and lonely scotch moorlands were like savages, wild and timid, hating every stranger. But the hearts of these poor children of the heather formed to the big brother who came among them with love shining in his eyes and a desire to help them. He used to trudge into the wildest, most distant places to reach them, to teach and comfort them. He was always carrying food and clothing to the poor and medicine to the sick, for he could not bear to see others suffer. But he was not afraid of suffering himself. One thing Cuthbert used to do which showed how strong and healthy he was, even until he grew to be quite an old man, he used to take a bath in the sea every day of his life. No matter how cold it was, he would plunge into the waves and come out all dripping upon the frozen beach, where he would always kneel and say a little prayer before going home. One bitter night in winter as Cuthbert knelt thus in the snow after his plunge, blue with cold, two brown otters came up out of the sea and stole to Cuthbert's side. As he prayed, not noticing them at all, they licked his poor frozen feet, trying to warm them, and rubbed against him with their thick, soft fur till he was dry again. Thus the water-creatures did their little best for him who loved them and who had done so much for others. When the abbot Boswell died, Cuthbert became head of the Abbey in his place, but after twelve years of living indoors with the other monks he could bear it no longer, for he longed to get out into the fresh air and under the sky once more. He resolved to become a hermit and to live a wild outdoor life with the birds whom he loved. He built his nest on a wild little island named Farn, a steep rocky sea mountain where ten or fifteen years before had lived that same holy Aden, whose passage to heaven he had witnessed when he was a shepherd boy at Melrose. The nest was really a hole in the ground. You know some birds built so. He dug himself a round cell in the rock, the roof having a window open to his dear sky. The walls were of turf and stone, and it was thatched with straw. There were two rooms, one where he lived and slept and cooked, the other for his little chapel where he sang praises like any bird, and sat for hours thinking holy thoughts. Before the door he hung an oxide, and this was his only protection from the winds of the sea. He found a spring in the rock, and this supplied him with water, and he planted a plot of barley which yielded him food. Thus he lived, alone with the birds which swarmed about the rock. The winds swept over him, and the waves curled and broke almost at the door of his hut, but he did not care. Indeed, the sea was a rough friend to him. Once when by mistake it came too near and washed away part of the cottage, Cuthbert sent to his brother monks on the mainland, asking them to bring him a beam to prop up the roof, for there was no wood on his rocky isle. But this the brothers forgot to do. The sea, however, seemed sorry for having been so careless, and at the next high tide it washed up at the saint's feet, the beam he wished. He did not lack for friends. For as soon as he made this island rock his home, it became the haunt of every kind of bird. The other animals could not reach him from the shore, poor things, but the blessed wings of the gulls and curlews, the iderducks and the ravens, bore them to their master in his retreat. Hi! they said to one another. We have got him to ourselves now. Those poor, featherless creatures can't come here. Neither can he get away without wings. He is all our own now. This was not quite true, for they forgot that though men cannot fly, they make boats with wings and so can cross the sea. Cuthbert often went ashore to do errands of mercy in peasants' huts and in the Queen's Palace. And many people came to see him also because his fame had spread over the kingdom. He made them welcome to the house which he had built for his guests, as far as possible from his own solitary cell. He loved them and helped them when he could, but after all the birds were his dearest friends and he liked best to be alone with them. They would come and sit upon his shoulders and knees and let him take them up and caress them. They followed him in flocks when he went to walk. They watched at the door of his hut and ate breakfast, dinner, and supper with him. Many people believed that every day the birds brought him food from paradise, but this story arose as so many false stories do, from another thing that really happened. Cuthbert's friends, when some black birds thoughtlessly stole his barley and some of the straw from his roof, Cuthbert scolded them and bared them never to do so again. It made the birds ashamed and to show that they were sorry, they brought him a great lump of soot. He did not eat it, however, as they expected he would, but used it to grease his shoes with and it lasted a long time. Now Cuthbert loved all these birds dearly, but he was a cider-duck who picks the down from her own breast to make a softer bed for her little ones. He was kind to them and they had no fear of him, but he dreaded, lest after he was gone, others should be less kind to his pets. So to protect them he made a promise and he bequeathed them a legacy, the gift of St. Cuthbert's peace. He promised that no one should harm or kill them on that island without being dreadfully punished but he gave them this peace forever and ever so that thenceforth he'll be fell whoever injured one of St. Cuthbert's birds. There are two stories to prove this and they both happened long after Cuthbert was gone from Farn. Now Living was a servant of Elric, the hermit who next dwelt in Cuthbert's cell and one day while Elric was gone away to the mainland, Living killed and ate one of the iderducks who still lived and built their nests in the hut where the saint had lived. Living knew the promise of St. Cuthbert's peace but he thought that no one would find out his crime for he scattered the bones and feathers over the cliff and saw them washed away by the waves. But after Elric his master came back, he found a lump of bones and feathers rolled together and cast by the tide upon the very steps of his chapel for even the sea was promised to St. Cuthbert's peace and he had to betray the guilty man so Living was discovered and punished. And this is the second story. The birds themselves were bound by the peace to be kind to one another. The big birds were forbidden to hurt or kill a little one and this is what happened to a great hawk who flapped over from the neighbouring island of Lindisfarn and ate up the tame sparrow which belonged to Bartholomew, another hermit who lived after Elric at Farn and Cuthbert's power made the hawk fly for days around and around the island, never able to get away, never able to stop though he was ready to drop with weariness and hunger. He would have kept on flying until now or until he fell into the sea and was drowned. If at last the hermit had not taken pity upon him. Bartholomew caught the tired hawk by his wings and carried him to the seashore and there in St. Cuthbert's name he bat him fly away and never come back too far and to bother him and his peaceful birds. So St. Cuthbert lived on his island surrounded by his feathered friends. He never grew proud though everyone loved and reverenced him and called him a saint. He was always poor although royal ladies even the queen herself made him presence of gold and jewels which he gave away to the needy. He was always meek though Eggfried the king himself came all the way to Farn to make him a grand bishop kneeling on the ground before Cuthbert and begging him to accept the gift. His life was like a beacon to men burning bright and clear and after he died a lighthouse was built on his rock to be a spark of hope for the sailors at sea. As for St. Cuthbert's peace it still blesses the lonely rock of Farn. Flocks of sea birds swarm about it descendants of those who knew the saint himself they are tame and gentle and suspect no harm from anyone for have they not the promise of their saint. Alas men less kindly than he have forgotten the promise and have broken the peace. They have killed many of the trusting birds who let them come up close and take them in their hands expecting to be panted for the birds never even thought to run away. Poor innocent soft-eyed creatures and how cruelly they were deceived but I am sure that St. Cuthbert's dreadful charm still binds the murderers he will not forget his promise and though they may not be punished immediately as living was nor suffer like the wicked hawk St. Cuthbert will bring sorrow upon their heads at last and misfortune to the cruel hands which dare to hurt his birds. End of chapter 9 St. Cuthbert's peace