the yellow head close at his elbow; and sometimes he felt the
hot, rough tongue licking his hand that hung at his side.

So they climbed the hill to the monastery. Some one had seen Gerasimus
coming with this strange attendant at his heels, and the windows and
doors were crowded with monks, their mouths and eyes wide open with
astonishment, peering over one another's shoulders. From every corner of
the monastery they had run to see the sight; but they were all on
tiptoe to run back again twice as quickly if the lion should roar or
lash his tail. Now although Gerasimus knew that the house was full of
staring eyes expecting every minute to see him eaten up, he did not
hurry or worry at all. Leisurely he unloaded the water-jar and put the
donkey in his stable, the lion following him everywhere he went. When
all was finished he turned to bid the beast good-by. But instead of
taking the hint and departing as he was expected to, the lion crouched
at Gerasimus' feet and licked his sandals; and then he looked up in the
Saint's face and pawed at his coarse gown pleadingly, as if he said,
"Good man, I love you because you took the thorn out of my foot. Let me
stay with you always to be your watch-dog." And Gerasimus understood.

"Well, if you wish to stay I am willing, so long as you are good," he
said, and the lion leaped up and roared with joy so loudly that all the
monks who were watching tumbled over one another and ran away to their
cells in a terrible fright, locking the doors behind them.

Gerasimus carried the water-jar into the empty kitchen, and the lion
followed. After sniffing about the place to get acquainted, just as a
kitten does in its new home, the lion lay down in front of the fire and
curled his head up on his paws, like the great big cat he was. And so
after a long sigh he went to sleep. Then Gerasimus had a chance to tell
the other monks all about it. At first they were timid and would not
hear of keeping such a dangerous pet. But when they had all tiptoed down
to the kitchen behind Gerasimus and had seen the big kitten asleep there
so peacefully they were not quite so much afraid.

"I'll tell you what we will do," said the Abbot. "If Brother Gerasimus
can make his friend eat porridge and herbs like the rest of us we will
let him join our number. He might be very useful,--as well as
ornamental,--in keeping away burglars and mice. But we cannot have any
flesh-eating creature among us. Some of us are too fat