heard of a father who of his own will slew his children? Alas, my
children! I am no longer your father, but your cruel murderer.'

"And the children awoke at the tears of their father, which fell upon
them; and they looked up into his face and began to laugh. And as they
were of age about three years, he said, 'Your laughing will be turned into
tears, for your innocent blood must now be shed'; and therewith he cut off
their heads. Then he laid them back in the bed, and put the heads upon the
bodies, and covered them as though they slept; and with the blood which he
had taken he washed his comrade, and said, 'Lord Jesus Christ! who hast
commanded men to keep faith on earth, and didst heal the leper by Thy
word! cleanse now my comrade, for whose love I have shed the blood of my
children.'" And of course the leper is immediately and completely cured.
But the mother did not know anything about the killing of the children; we
have to hear something about her share in the tragedy. Let me again quote,
this time giving the real and very beautiful conclusion--

"Now neither the father nor the mother had yet entered where the children
were, but the father sighed heavily because they were dead, and the mother
asked for them, that they might rejoice together; but Amile said, 'Dame!
let the children sleep.' And it was already the hour of Tierce. And going
in alone to the children to weep over them, he found them at play in the
bed; only, in the place of the sword-cuts about their throats was, as it
were, a thread of crimson. And he took them in his arms and carried them
to his wife and said, 'Rejoice greatly! For thy children whom I had slain
by the commandment of the angel, are alive, and by their blood is Amis
healed.'"

I think you will all see how fine a story this is, and feel the emotional
force of the grand moral idea behind it. There is nothing more to tell
you, except the curious fact that during the Middle Ages, when it was
believed that the story was really true, Amis and Amile--or Amicus and
Amelius--were actually considered by the Church as saints, and people used
to pray to them. When anybody was anxious for his friend, or feared that
he might lose the love of his friend, or was afraid that he might not have
strength to perform his duty as friend--then he would go to church to
implore help from the good saints Amicus and Amelius. But of course it was
all a mistake--a mistake which lasted until the end of the seventeen