The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1895-08-03
A LEGEND.


Thames. While the chapel was in the
greenness of its youth, the hour drew mean
for its dedication, and one can fancy the
ripple of anticipation that stirred within
the patient breasts of men who told THEN
beads and kept long fasts and weary vigils
without hope of earthly recompense.
One dark night, the Sunday before the
day appointed for the chapel's dedication,
poor fisherman, Edric by name, rowed
slowly up and down the Thames. All day
long he had worked faithfully, but, in the
very places where fish were to be had al
most for the asking, this day he had caught
none. At last he laid down the oars in
despair, and with uncompIimentary
thoughts of the saints whose business it
was to look after his interests. sat with his
chin sunken on his breast and his hard
hands clasped around his cold knees, when
suddenly, out of the very middle of the 81
lence around him, he heard, or thought he
heard, voice calling his name.
1t was ISt the sharp voice of his wife,
which had more than once broken in upon
his reveries by heralding his i'll luck, but
an unknown. mellow sound, that by keen
contrast made little shivers chase down
his aching spine.
AS he looked about him warily, light
from the shore flashed on the water and
trembled like a reflected star at the boats
head. Edric hastily caught up his oars,
and, pulling in the direction of the voice,
saw an old man on the bank who beck
oned him with one hand, and as he drew
near, begged to be rowed across the river
Now, whether Edric CHANGED to be soft
hearted fellow in those hard old days or
whether conscience pricked because he had
gone a-fishing on the Sabbath day, can
not tell. But, be that as it may, he quick
ly made ready for his passenger without
first claiming fee, and when the stranger
was seated, turned his boat across the
stream toward the monastery.
Once or twice Edric cleared his throat
cheerfully to address the venerable figure,
which sat silently, with crossed arms, fac
ing him, but after all, he had nothing to
say, especially without encouragement; SO
they went on without word.
a heavy, black robe lay in long lines
over the knees of Edric's companion. ex-
cept for one fold that was thrown back
ward over the head concealing the hair
and most of the forehead. The face was
chiefly in shadow, but now and then, as
Edric glanced toward it, light like that
of two near stars shone on him from be-
meath the heavy brOws and made him IN
comfortable and awkward with the oars.
Once across the stranger leaped out like
a lad, and without SO much as a thank
you, though his looks were courteous,
walked straight to the chapel, which on
the instant blazed at every window with
soft, warm light like that of a thousand
candles, a CHEEKY sight to a fisherman who
was not only hungry, but wet and SILVER
ing as well.
Edric was bold man and not one whit
afraid of miracle, which was a thing not
to be carped at so he moored his boat and
drew nearer, and lol like the swift patter
of a summer shower on futtering leaves,
a soft, swishing sound fell all around his
ears and bilowing host of angels alight-
ed within an arrows length of where he
stood. 1t was as if they brake through
the sky, y or rather as if the earthly atmos-
phere grew thin and revealed them on the
outskirts of the heavenly place where it
touched the earthly. Then they glided in
to the chapel, but whether with wings or
without Edric could never remember, the
stranger leading the host, and there, with
htanies and genufexions, the celestial
convoy dedicated it to the service of the
Highest.
Edric had heard the monks singing both
at mathis and at vespers as he threw his
lines and pulled in his fish day by day, but
never had he listened to such TIE Deums
and Glorias as thes ethat shook the monas-
terry like a mighty wind. He was creeping
cautiously to the threshold of the door,
throbbing with curiosity and wondering if
it were lawful to enter or even to look up
on the altar, when there came rustic
sweep of vast wings and sudden darkness,
and out of the darkness the voice of the
stranger:
''Give me to eat, Edric, - it said.
| But Edric replied, cap in hand, 81 have
toiIed all night and taken nothing"
| F'Where Iearnedst thou those words?''
the old man asked, and as Edric's pupils
expanded in the starlight, which was the
only light now that the chapel stood
black heap against the sky, he saw that
the stranger smiled, and a sudden flash of
| thought made the fisherman catch his
! breath.
''Be not afraid, - the stranger said be-
nignly. 81 am Peter, and feed my Lord s
sheep as he commanded me. Thou remem-
berest the words in Holy Writ? And I hold
| the keys of heaven; they are even now in
/ the pocket OF my robe-and open to whom
I will. L must be gone, for great multi
! tude is even now waiting at the gate. Be
not afraid, but hearken.''
81 fear naught, " said the fisherman
"that is, naught but the DEVIL But his
teeth chartered as he crossed himself.
| go then to the bishop" commanded
| Peter, "and tell him what thou hast seen
! and heard this night. And hereafter thou
4 shalt find good fishing, save only on Sun
i day. Promise me thou wilt not drop line
/ on the holy day and that thou wilt give
food to my poor"
Edric promised quickly, for indeed he
| could not well do less, knowing that he
| was keeping souls out of heaven, and as
the saint vanished, with much jingling of
! keys, he made clumsy haste to put the
river between himself and the chapel.
Next day, when the bishop arrived with
inter and crozier and great retinue, the
| fisherman met him on the farther river
| bank with a noble salmon in his hand, the
| gift of Peter, and told him in many words
| the tale of the night just past.
And so it befall that the chapel had no
further conservation, for even the bishop
was not sure that he could surpass St. Pc
ter and his angeIs.-Ayln Yates Keith in
New York Post.