the walls of his beloved monastery. But without the walls wars
often raged, for England was at this time still divided into
several kingdoms, whose kings often fought against each other.

Bede loved to learn even when he was a boy. We know this, for
long afterward another learned man told his pupils to take Bede
for an example, and not spend their time "digging out foxes and
coursing hares."* And when he became a man he was one of the
most learned of his time, and wrote books on nearly every subject
that was then thought worth writing about.

*C. Plummer.

Once, when Bede was still a boy, a fearful plague swept the land,
"killing and destroying a great multitude of men." In the
monastery of Jarrow all who could read, or preach, or sing were
killed by it. Only the Abbot himself and a little lad were left.
The Abbot loved services and the praises of the church. His
heart was heavy with grief and mourning for the loss of his
friends; it was heavy, too, with the thought that the services of
his church could no longer be made beautiful with song.

For a few days the Abbot read the services all alone, but at the
end of a week he could no longer bear the lack of singing, so
calling the little lad he bade him to help him and to chant the
responses.

The story calls up to us a strange picture. There stands the
great monastery, all its rooms empty. Along its stone-flagged
passages the footsteps of the man and boy echo strangely. They