due deference, but took no further notice of the
matter, and the asses, little likely to neglect the
opportunities for such regales, continued to
follow the well-known route across the stream,
and up the hill to the abbé's gardens. One
morning, however, the saint, finding them
happily engaged in browsing on his vines, he
"entered," says the chronicle, "into a holy
anger, struck them with his staff, and gave them
his malediction; then, leaving the curse to
work, he retired into his monastery, where the
duties of his state awaited him."

The owner of the asses, not finding them return
in the evening, as usual, became very uneasy,
and summoning his men, proceeded to
the marshes in search of them. Failing of success,
he dispersed his servants in search of
them, and, with certain misgivings, alone took
the route to the convent. Arrived at the top
of the hill, the first sight that met his view was
that of his asses, standing immovable all round
the monks' gardens. He called them, but not
one moved, and, approaching nearer, he found
that the poor beasts, victims of their own greediness
and the negligence of their master (to say
nothing of the saint's holy anger), were struck
motionless, each with his head turned over his
back. In dire consternation stood the farmer
till his servants rejoined him. What was to be
done? After a long consultation it was decided
that they should go and crave the pardon and
assistance of the holy monk.

For a long time the saint turned a deaf ear;
but at length, melted by their prayers and promises,
he yielded, and, releasing the asses, restored
them to their much-relieved owner. The
animals, however, as they joyously took their
homeward route, returned thanks for their
deliverance in such an unmelodious fashion, that
the saint, resolved to be no more troubled with
them in any shape, followed them down the hill
to the border of the stream. When the last
had crossed it, he extended over the water his
staff, and pronounced some prayers, the result
of which immediately appeared in the spreading
of the rivulet into its present dimensions.

Not very long ago was found in the cellar of
the presbytery a curious piece of antique
woodcarving, representing the asses with their heads
turned over their backs. Nothing was known
concerning it, and I cannot say if it be still in
existence.

LA GUIVRE.

La Guivre was a serpent, which had its origin
in the following manner:

St. Samson, Bishop of Dol, says the legend,
came with a numerous suite to visit St. Suliac.
The latter, who lived very poorly, received his
guest in the best manner he could, and placed
before him and his followers the produce of his
land. A certain dainty monk, accustomed to
the sumptuous table of the bishop, on seeing
the humble fare of the abbé, turned up his
priestly nose, and bitterly, though silently, murmured
at the frugality of the host. He even
went so far as to require a second invitation to
take his place at table, and then he ate a small
portion of vegetables, as if under protest. As
to the bread, it was so little to his taste, that
not knowing how to dispose of it (St. Samson,
his patron, was eating it contentedly)— he did
not dare to throw it away, nor leave it on the
table— he opened his robe and concealed it in
his bosom.

In an instant the wretched monk fell into
convulsions, and rolled about, uttering cries
which brought together all the brothers in the
monastery. St. Samson was at his wits' end,
but St. Suliac, being warned of an angel, advanced
towards him, bidding him be calm. The
expiring monk seemed to beseech the pardon of
the saint, who, reprimanding him severely for
his daintiness, opened his robe, and there displayed
to the assembly a hideous serpent tearing
his breast. The saint immediately exorcised
the reptile, commanded it to quit the monk, and
passing a stole round its neck, delivered it into
the hands of one of the brethren, desiring him
to carry it to the most elevated point of Gârot.
There, in the presence of St. Samson and all
the monks of the monastery, and of the bishop's
suite, he again exorcised the monster, and precipitated
it from the top of the mountain into
the sea, with a command never again to trouble
the anointed of the Lord.

The Hole of the Serpent, or La Guivre, is
still to be seen on the beach under Gârot. It
was in this place that, up till '93, on one of the
Rogation days, the clergy of St. Suliac, as
already described, came to dip the foot of the
silver cross three times in the deserted cavern
of La Guivre.

CAMPION'S HARE.

This hare, according to tradition, was a very
singular animal, and did not live, like his fellows,
in secret and solitary places. He was to
be seen in the villages, in the bourg,* and particularly
in the Venelle-ès-Naviots, where never
did an evening pass without his showing himself.

This animal, in running away, uttered cries
which disturbed the whole neighbourhood, and
every one, looking at his neighbour, remained
terror-stricken; the bravest questioned if these
were really the cries of a hare, or the infernal
summons of a lost spirit, and no one dared to
show the very end of his nose at an open window
when they were heard. The very dogs,
when let loose in pursuit of him, hid among
the legs of their masters and the petticoats of
their mistresses; the boldest dared not go into
the street, and often, with bristling hair, fled
howling before the terrible beast.

This hare in no wise shrank from the presence
of man; on the contrary, he seemed to defy
him. He would walk beside him, step for step,
but the moment a hand was stretched forth to
catch him, the creature escaped in two or three

* Bourg, which means simply town, is the name
especially applied in Brittany, and some other parts
of France, to the village inhabited by the speaker;
as, in other parts, the word Pays is similarly employed.