ister, and
raising his hand angrily towards the seductive singers, he cried.

"Go from here! Ye are a curse to us." St. Bernhard had spoken
threateningly, and lo! with a great stir in the branches, a throng of
numberless nightingales rose from the bushes, filled the forest once
more with their glorious song, and fled with a great flapping of
wings.

They settled down in the valley of Honnef, and no excommunication has
driven them from there. Those who wander there are not averse to the
pleasures of the world like St. Bernhard, and every one after his own
manner reads a different meaning in their song.

GODESBERG

The High Cross at Godesberg

If you walk on the high road between Bonn and Godesberg which is not
far distant, you perceive on the left side, shimmering white amid the
green woodland, a high pillar crowned with a cross known as the "High
Cross."

It is a pleasing sight to him who passes by on a bright day; but in
the twilight its glaring white contrasting so sharply with the dark
back ground, makes a dismal impression on him, which is still more
enhanced by the legend told about it.

The story leads us back to the time when instead of the grey ruins, a
proud stronghold near Godesberg looked down into the wonderful valley
of the Rhine. An old knight lived there, who was well known far and
near for his bravery and generosity. His beloved wife had died,
leaving him two sons.

The elder was the very image of his mother in body and mind; he had
gentle childlike manners, and it was therefore natural that the
father's eye rested with more pleasure on him than on the younger son
who was very daring, and in spite of his youth had already gone after
strange, and not always honourable adventures. Yet the old father did
not grieve much on his account, hoping that the sooner the reckless
youth emptied his cup of pleasure, the sooner he would come to the
bitter dregs. Then like others he would surely become more serious,
and would yet fulfil the longing desire of his late mother. She had
fervently wished to see him when a man adorned with St. Mathern's
ring, which the bishops of Cologne wore, while Erich, the elder,
should become lord of Godesberg Castle.

The father's thoughts lingered with pleasure on the pleasant prospects
of his sons' future. He sent up many a fervent prayer to heaven for
the fulfilment of his desires, well knowing that the spirit of his
beloved wife supported him at the throne of th