rtyr.

Then another strange thing befell. When she died a great eagle appeared
in the sky, hovering over Saint Prisca's body far up in the air. And
when any of the Romans ventured near her the eagle swooped down upon
them with dreadful cries and flapping of his wings. And his round gray
eyes looked so fierce and his claws so long and sharp, that no one dared
to touch her for fear of the bird. Saint Prisca had found another
protector in cruel Rome. And this is why many of the old pictures of
Saint Prisca's martyrdom show a great eagle hovering over her.

The creature guarded her body night and day, driving every one away,
until the Christians, who had been waiting for the chance to venture
out, came secretly one night and carried her away. They buried her where
the Romans could not find her, in their little secret cemetery in the
catacombs. This is how Saint Prisca lived and died two hundred and
seventy years after Christ's birth. But I wish we knew what became of
the noble lion and the devoted eagle.

THE FISH WHO HELPED SAINT GUDWALL

THE Welsh coast is famous for its beautiful scenery and its terrible
storms. People who see it in the summer time think only of the beautiful
scenery. But if they should happen to pass that way in midwinter they
would be very apt to meet an unpleasant reminder of the terrible storms.

Saint Gudwall was born a Welshman, and he should have known all this.
Perhaps he did know, but chose to run into danger just because it was
dangerous, as so many saints loved to do in those years when it was
thought no virtue to take care of one's life. At all events, it was
summer when with one friend Gudwall moved to his new home, a tiny island
off the coast of Wales, which at that time was very beautiful.

The first thing they did was to set about finding a place to live in.
The island was one of those high mountains poking up out of the sea,
with green grass on top, like colored frosting to a cake; and gray
rocks below, all hollowed out into deep caves and crannies, as if mice
had been nibbling at the cake. These caves are just the sort of places
which smugglers and pirates choose to hide in with their treasures, for
no one would think of hunting for any one there. And Gudwall wanted to
be left alone with his pupil; so he thought there was no reason why a
bad man's hiding-place should not make a good saint's retreat. So they
chose the largest and deepest of all the caves, and there they put