ured.

"Yes, indeed. I am sorry to say, however, that much of it has been
destroyed before the public realized its value. At Salisbury Cathedral,
for instance, some of the fine old glass was taken down and beaten to
pieces in order that the lead might be used. At Oxford rare Gothic
windows were removed and broken up to give room for the more modern
work of the Renaissance. But you will still find at Canterbury and in
many other of the English churches stained glass which has escaped
destruction and come down to us through hundreds of years. And speaking
of how such things have been preserved I must tell you the wonderful
story of the east window in St. Margaret's Chapel at Westminster."

"Oh, do tell us!" begged Jean. "I love stories."

"This story is almost like a fairy tale, when one considers that it is
the history of such a fragile thing as a glass window," Mr. Cabot
began. "This window of which I am telling you was Flemish in design,
and is said to have been ordered by Ferdinand and Isabella when their
daughter Catherine was engaged to Arthur, the Prince of Wales. But for
some reason it was not delivered, and a Dutch magistrate later decided
to present it to King Henry the Seventh. Unfortunately the king died
before the gift arrived and it came into the hands of the Abbot of
Waltham. Now these were very troublous times for a stained glass window
to be traveling about the land; Cromwell was in power and his followers
believed it right to destroy everything which existed merely because of
its beauty. So the old abbot was afraid his treasure would be wrecked,
and to insure its safety he buried it."

"How funny!"

"Yes, wasn't it?"

"What happened then?"

"After the Restoration one of the loyal generals of the Crown had the
window dug up and placed in a chapel on his estate. But the house
changed hands and as its new owner did not like the window he offered
it to Wadham College. The college authorities, alas, did not care for
it, so it remained cased up for many years. Then by and by along came
an Englishman who had the courage to buy it and have it set up in his
house."

"Was that the end of it?" queried Giusippe.

"No, indeed. This person died, and his son took down the stained glass
heirloom and in 1758 sold it to a committee which was at that time busy
decorating St. Margaret's Chapel. Here at last it was set up and here
one cannot but hope it will remain. Certainly it has earned a long
rest."

"Shoul