"I only 's such a strain, to try and live for two people.
“You're the best man I ever met," I said. "Any man who's had his prayer answered could tell yet that, Sassenach." "It does rather make you wonder what he did to merit sainthood, though, doesn't it?" "Not with the same woman, I don't imagine," I said dryly. Guignole in his pocket can last a night and a day without tiring." The townsfolk say that for a thousand years, folk have whittled away bits of it as holy relics, and yet the cock is still as big as ever." He grinned at me. "Well, the size wasna the miraculous bit," he said, waving me to silence. 'Twas a miraculous statue-it had a cock like a gun muzzle, and-" "I saw a statue of him in Brest once they did say it had been there for a thousand years. "He's involved against impotence." The glint got stronger. Aye, well, I've always been fond of Saint Guignole, myself." I could see the glint in his eye, but couldn't resist. Take it up with the Vatican," I advised him. They caught up with him, though, dragged him back and beheaded him." Sounds rather daredevil he slipped his chains and escaped through the sewer. Having been found out, he was chained up in the prison cesspool to await trial-I suppose the cells must have been full. He was a Roman tribune and a secret Christian. "Ferreolus," I went on with some new enjoyment, "is the patron saint of sick poultry. There were precisely two bits of unequivocal information on this birth certificate-the date and the name of the doctor who's delivered him. "One of my favorites," I told him, carefully filling in the birthdate and time of birth-even that was an estimate, poor thing. "Ferreolus? I dinna think I ken that one." He leaned back, hands linked over his knee. "I shouldn't think so, though you never know, what with people named Pantaleon and Onuphrius. "Making out little Gizmo's birth certificate-so far as I can," I added.
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