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Updated: June 22, 2025
ONCE upon a time Saint Servan kept a school near Glasgow in Scotland, and many boys, big and little, came there to study. Now of all these boys there was one who surpassed the rest in everything that makes a good scholar. Kentigern was one of the smallest boys in the school, and yet he stood at the head of all his classes.
It rained the day they left St. Kentigern, and the next, and the day after that, spasmodically, as regarded local effort, sporadically, as seen through the filmed windows of railway carriages or from the shining decks of steamboats.
Poseidon and Aphrodite, Odin and Freya, vanish into the indefinite and undiscoverable at the approach of historical criticism. But separately altogether from their miracles, Cuthbert and Ninian, Columba and Kentigern, had actual existences. We know when they lived and when they died.
Kentigern turned quite pale with surprise and sorrow, and the tears came into his eyes. "Oh, the dear little bird," he said. "Did I not love him too? Who has killed him, Father?" "You did, you did; we saw you!" cried all the boys in a chorus. Kentigern turned and looked at them in astonishment. He did not say a word, but his cheeks grew red and his eyes flashed.
But her face betrayed no consciousness, except of their present disappointment. "There's an excursion boat coming round the Point," he said, pointing to the black smoke trail of a steamer at the entrance of a loch, "and it will be returning to St. Kentigern shortly. If you like, we'll pull over and put you aboard." "Eh! but it's the Sabbath-breaker!" said the old man harshly.
When within twenty feet of the Kentigern she swung broadside on, ceasing all headway and drifting into position on the tide. "Now, then," cried Dan, suddenly leaping into the thwarts and manning the oars. "Haul on the line. Bring her right under the Quinn's stern and then cut, quick!" Hand over hand hauled Captain Barney and the rowboat came under the stern with a jump. Then he cut the line.
It was at this moment that an unpopular pupil, named Kentigern a new boy, apparently a stranger who had not taken in good-fellowship to the rest of the school, but was addicted to solitary meditation, entered the guilty conclave. Their course was taken they threw the fragments of the bird into his hands, and bolted.
These rugged and grey hills were once included in the boundaries of the Caledonian Forest. Merlin sat here below his apple-tree and lamented Gwendolen; here spoke with Kentigern; here fell into his enchanted trance.
Kentigern on her way to Edinburgh, desired to see the consul the next day, if he would appoint an hour at the consulate; or, as her time was limited, she would take it as a great favor if he would call at her hotel. Although a countrywoman, her name might not be so well known to him as those of her "old friends" Harry Custer, Esq., and Sir Malcolm McHulish.
The real culprits were severely punished. But Kentigern became even dearer than before to his master, who helped him in every way to become the great and famous Saint he afterwards was. And the Robin was another fond and faithful friend. For the bird seemed never to forget that Kentigern had restored his life, and always sang his sweetest song for the boy.
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