ugh ox-cart and laid St.
Antony in it.

I told you how St. Antony had longed to share Christ's sufferings and
die a martyr's death--well, now was his chance. He was in such frightful
pain that any tiny movement hurt him, and now he had to go mile after
mile in a rough cart with no springs, jolting over the stony roads, the
broiling Italian sun beating down upon him, the thick white dust choking
his parched throat, the flies tormenting him. You can't imagine the
agony he must have suffered. And yet he never grumbled--he was _glad_ of
this chance of suffering; he felt he was really taking up his cross and
following his beloved Master along the painful way to Calvary.

When the cart had nearly reached Padua, a Friar who had been sent to
inquire after St. Antony met the little procession. He saw at once that
St. Antony would not live to reach the city, so he made the Friars lift
him from the cart and carry him to a little house of the Friars near by.
It had been St. Antony's last great wish to die at Padua; but even this
he gave up patiently and gladly and without a murmur.

In the little cell he lay, his pain getting worse and worse, and his
weakness greater and greater. The Friars gave him the last rites of
religion. "Then, raising his eyes," the old book says, "he looked
fixedly on high. As he continued to gaze steadfastly towards heaven, the
Friars asked him what he saw. He answered: 'I see my Lord.'"

Not long after, like one falling quietly asleep, he breathed out his
last breath. "His loving, holy soul quitted the body, and, conducted by
the good Jesus, entered into the joy of his Lord."

The little cell where St. Antony died still stands, and people can go in
and look on the very walls his eyes looked on, the very floor on which
his body lay. It is such a holy spot that a church has been built over
it, and the little square cell stands inside the church.

That is the story of one of the holiest and humblest men who ever lived.

* * * * *

Very quietly the Cubs lay down on their palliasses, and fell asleep
thinking of their new friend, St. Antony.

THE EIGHTH DAY

A pouring day! Luckily the Cubs remained in the sunny land of dreams
till eight.

Meals had to be in the bell-tent. This was great fun! There was just
room for a council circle, only you had to be careful not to put your
feet in other people's porridge, or let your head rub against the tent.
If you did, a