your fire, instead of gadding along the road in this fashion?"

   And he took the burden, and carried it all the way to the woman's house, and came back grumbling.

   Still again it was a child, who had lost its way and came crying to his door.

   "Please take me home!" said the child.

   "You should not have come out!" said the Saint. "Where is your home?"

   "Miles away!" said the child. "And I am tired; please carry me!"

   "Stuff and nonsense!" said the Saint. "Don't talk to me!"

   And he wrapped the child in his own coat (for it was winter), and carried him miles through the snow to his home; and then trudged back again, but without the coat, for the folk were poor.

   And so it went on.

   One day the Grumpy Saint died, and went to Heaven, a place in which he had never believed. As he entered that country, the first person he met was an Angel, with a bright gold aureole round her head, and in her hand a staff of lilies.

   "Welcome!" said the Angel. "Welcome, dear and great saint! I am sent to greet you, and lead you to the feast that is making in your honor."

   "Some mistake!" said the Grumpy Saint. "I don't know what you are talking about, and I don't like play-acting. What place is this?"

   "This is Heaven!" said the Angel.

   "Nonsense!" said the Saint. "I don't believe in Heaven."

   "Yes, but you

    are

   in it," said the Angel, "which is of more consequence."

   "And who may you be?" asked the Saint. "I seem to know your face."

   "Yes!" said the Angel. "I am the old woman you helped with the burden; don't you remember? the rest are waiting inside, all the people whom you loved and helped. Come with me!"

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