nd it made
them vain.

"Oh, Father," cried Comgall's pupils (they always called their teacher
"Father" in those days), "see the lovely swans! May we not coax them
ashore? We want to play with them."

Comgall chuckled inside, for he felt sure that the swans would not come
to them, because they were strangers. But he said with a twinkle in his
eye,--

"Oh, yes, boys. Call them here if you can. But you must give them
something to tempt them, or I fear they will hardly come."

Then the boys tried to find a crust of bread or some crumbs in their
pockets, to throw to the swans. But no one had anything, not even a
peanut; for peanuts were not invented in those days. They stood on the
bank whistling and calling, trying in every way to make the swans swim
ashore. But the birds only cocked their red-rimmed eyes at the boys and
fluttered their wings timidly.

"We don't know you," they squawked with their harsh voices. "The like of
you are no friends of ours. Hurrooh! Go away and leave our pond in
peace."

All this time Comgall had been standing behind them on the bank laughing
at the vain attempts of his pupils. But now he walked quietly down to
the pond. Making a little croony sound in his throat, he put out his
hand towards the swans, but with no crumbs to tempt them.

The swans had never before seen him. But as soon as they heard his voice
you should have seen the commotion! How the water did wrinkle and
spatter as those dignified birds scurried headlong towards Comgall! Each
one seemed trying to be the first to reach his side; and each one
flapped his wings and went almost into a fit for fear another should get
ahead of him. So finally they reached the bank and gathered around
Comgall, talking to him all at once and telling him how much they liked
the look of him. And one great white swan fluttered into the old man's
lap and sat there letting himself be stroked and patted, stretching his
long neck up to Comgall's face and trying to kiss him with beaky lips.

You can imagine how the pupils stared at this strange sight. For they
knew that the swans were as truly strangers to Saint Comgall as to the
rest of them. But the swans had guessed in some way that this was a man
who loved all animals, and that is why they were not afraid, but loved
him as soon as they saw him.

But this next is the stranger story. Mice are harder even than swans for
most people to get acquainted with. But Comgall had also made the mice
his fri