d 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 looked 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 Beersheba, 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 wakened 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 have 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. "Y