in a lake
surrounded by trees, where very few people ever thought of coming to see
him; but some good pious families, who lived near, used to take him
fish, and other provisions, to supply his daily wants, which were,
indeed, but few.

There he lived on for some years, his existence being neither very
useful nor very interesting, and the puzzle was how he managed to pass
his time. His hair grew longer than ever, and so did his nails; and at
length it was discovered that he was with them, day after day, engaged
in digging his own grave. Like the mole, working away, he turned up the
earth till he had made it deep enough and long enough to suit his taste.
When it was completed he laid himself down in it, weary of the world,
and never rose from it again.

When the peasants came the next morning, they found the old Saint dead;
so, mournfully they threw back the earth he had turned up; and many
years afterwards, the exact spot being ascertained, a magnificent church
was raised over it to his memory.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

THE DEATH OF SAINT DAVID.

Pen would fail to write, or man to tell, all the gallant achievements
which the noble Knight, Saint David of Wales, and his faithful Squire,
Owen ap Rice, performed during their foreign travels.

At length even they began to weary of the constant hazardous adventures
in which they were engaged. Age had begun to dim the lustre of Saint
David's eye, and to unnerve his arm, but not to lower the courage of his
heart.

News was now brought him that an army of Pagan barbarians was about to
attack his native land. No time was to be lost if he would render
service to his country. On his homeward way he collected all the
gallant knights, and their squires, and men-at-arms, with whom he and
the faithful Owen had, in their travels, become acquainted. Thus, by
the time he reached the borders of Wales, he had assembled an army
which, though small, was well able to perform deeds such as ten times
the number of ordinary men would not have dared to attempt.

Sad was the state of Wales when they entered it in battle-array, seeking
the enemy,--towns were unpeopled, houses overthrown, monasteries
pillaged, corn-fields burnt, farms destroyed, while from the caves and
woods came forth the unhappy people, to welcome him as their deliverer,
and to pray for his success.

These sights so fired the spirit of the aged Champion, that he vowed
never to rest till he had driven the enemy from