e five boys in
camp.

After dinner the Scoutmaster took the Cubs for a row in the creek, and
afterwards they bathed. Then they had a good tea, and were allowed to
see over the abbey and go down in the crypt under the church. It
interested them very much to see a wonderful library of eighty thousand
books! Some were hundreds and hundreds of years old, and all done in
writing and painting, because there was no printing in those days. Some
were books done in the very first days of printing. There was one
enormous book you could hardly carry, and by it a tiny wee little book
you could put in your waistcoat-pocket.

At last it was time to go home, and they set out once more to tramp
along the lanes. The evening sun shone down through the thick green
leaves, and the blackbirds sang as if they were saying all sorts of
important things to each other, if only you could understand. The grey,
broken arches of the ruined abbey seemed to tell sad tales of long
ago--seemed full of secrets nobody will ever hear.

"It's been a good adventure," said the Cubs, and they tramped home
contentedly, for their minds were full of things to think about.

Even at the end of a four-mile tramp they were ready to run up the
grassy hill into the camp, each keen to be the first one to tell Father
and Mother about the eighty thousand books, and the ruin, and the cider,
and the crypt. The five Cubs enjoyed the cider, and everyone talked at
the same time round the camp-fire that night, all telling different
things.

"Story to-night, miss?" said a Cub, suddenly.

"Yes," said Akela.

"Good one?"

"Yes--a very good one about a soldier-Saint."

"Hooray! Buck up, boys, and let's get down to the Stable for the story,"
cried the Cub, cramming the last bit of bread-and-cheese into his mouth.

The trampers were quite ready to lie down on their beds that night.

"It's been the best day we've had yet," they said; "and now, please,
tell the story."

So Akela curled up on someone's palliasse, and silence fell.

THE STORY OF ST. MARTIN.

A little more than three hundred years after Our Lord formed the
Christian Church and then went back to Heaven, having promised always to
be in spirit with His people, a boy called Martin was born in Hungary.
This boy God chose to be a very great leader among His people, the
Christians, and so He began to arrange Martin's life in such a way that
he should be led, little by little, to the fulfilment of God's plans.