s head bowed
between his knees, and, indeed, in this posture he passed most of his
time. Any recklessness in movement, and he would have slipped from his
perilous position and been dashed to death upon the stones beneath.

As the sun arose he stood up, just for a few moments, and held out his
arms in greeting, blessing and in prayer. Three times during the day
did he thus stretch his cramped limbs, and pray with his face to the
East. At such times, those who stood near shared in his prayers, and
went away blessed and refreshed.

How did Simeon get to the top of the column?

Well, his companions at the monastery, a mile away, said he was
carried there in the night by a miraculous power; that he went to
sleep in his stone cell and awoke on the pillar. Other monks said that
Simeon had gone to pay his respects to a fair lady, and in wrath God
had caught him and placed him on high. The probabilities are, however,
Terese, as viewed by an unbeliever, that he shot a line over the
column with a bow and arrow and then drew up a rope ladder and
ascended with ease.

However, in the morning the simple people of the scattered village saw
the man on the column.

All day he stayed there.

And the next day he was still there.

The days passed, with the scorching heat of the midday sun, and the
cool winds of the night.

Still Simeon kept his place.

The rainy season came on. When the nights were cold and dark, Simeon
sat there with bowed head, and drew the folds of his single garment, a
black robe, over his face.

Another season passed; the sun again grew warm, then hot, and the
sandstorms raged and blew, when the people below almost lost sight of
the man on the column. Some prophesied he would be blown off, but the
morning light revealed his form, naked from the waist up, standing
with hands outstretched to greet the rising sun.

Once each day, as darkness gathered, a monk came with a basket
containing a bottle of goat's milk and a little loaf of black bread,
and Simeon dropped down a rope and drew up the basket.

Simeon never spoke, for words are folly, and to the calls of saint or
sinner he made no reply. He lived in a perpetual attitude of
adoration.

Did he suffer? During those first weeks he must have suffered terribly
and horribly. There was no respite nor rest from the hard surface of
the rock, and aching muscles could find no change from the cramped and
perilous position. If he fell, it was damnation for his so