Yes! they actually say that St. Bertrand came by,
    And lifted his ivory stick,
    Then dealt me a terrible blow in the eye,
    Which levell’d me flat as a brick.

    But it’s false!  Just as false
    as that “here” I was
    brought

    On the back of that
    wonderful man.

    But the crones just repeat
    what the “priesthood”
    have taught,

    And it’s part of a regular
    plan.

    Why, believe me, they
    caught me afloat on
    the Nile

    As my dinner I just had
    begun;

    I was chased by a host of
    the picked “rank
    and file,”

    And to them my destruction
    seem’d fun.

    And when I was dead they
    anointed my bones,

    And placed me up here
    on the wall;

    But that organ at first was
    so loud in its tones,

    Of rest I found nothing
    at all.

    A crocodile truly.  You’ve
    heard my sad tale,

   And I say that such lies
   are a sin;

   While the protests I make,
   seeming nought to
   avail,

   Are enough to make any
   one thin!

[Footnote 1:  This is a Yorkshire word, meaning “cloth.”]

[Illustration:  THE CROCODILE OF ST. BERTRAND.]

Turning away from this “priestly” monument to St. Bertrand’s miraculous powers, we passed along the side of the remarkable choir stalls—­which take up the greater part of the edifice—­and turned inside at an opening, near the high altar.  The latter, decorated with the ordinary display of 19th century tinsel, does not call for much comment, but in a passage close behind it stands the mausoleum of St. Bertrand, built in 1432.  The stalls were erected in the 16th century, and are worthy of much attention.

The rood loft, which is nearest the entrance to the cathedral, is ornamented with figures of the Apostles and Saints, and the exterior panels running along both sides, and divided by small choicely-carved columns, represent a diversity of figures; none, however, seeming to bear much, if at all, on religion.  In the interior, besides the throne, there is a remarkable “tree of Jesse “—­near the first stall on the right hand—­which we thought was well done; but what with the different figures above each stall, the arabesques uniting them, and the less minute work under each seat, there was no lack of carving to be seen; and even if it was not all of the highest order, the general effect was strikingly good.  It is worth noting that the cathedral, owing to some great error, was built facing north instead of west, and that consequently the east side is on the left of the entrance.  Half-way up this side is the small chapel of Notre Dame de Pitie, in which the fine marble tomb of Hugues de Chatillon lies.  The sculpture is especially fine, though the beauty