LONG, long ago, when the Romans were still ruling Britain, a boy named Patrick lived on a farm near the sea. His home was somewhere in the west of our country, perhaps in Glamorganshire, South Wales.

Patrick's father and mother were Christians, and his grandfather had been a priest. When he was quite a small boy, his mother taught Patrick and his brothers and sisters about Jesus, and how to say their prayers.

One day Patrick and some of his friends went down to the seashore near his home. While they were playing, they did not notice a long boat sailing towards the beach. Suddenly, a band of fierce men leapt ashore and, before the boys could run away, they seized them and carried them off to the boat. The square sail was quickly hoisted and the ship put out to sea, leaving the land farther and farther behind.

The boys had been captured by Irish pirates, who came across the sea to Britain to trade and, sometimes, to capture slaves. Patrick was taken to Northern Ireland, where the pirates sold him to an Ulster chief, called Milcho, who sent him to look after his cows and pigs.

Patrick was lonely and sad among these strange, fierce people. They had never heard of Jesus Christ, and they believed in magic and spells worked by their priests, called Druids. Every morning, when he had led his master's herd to the hillside, Patrick would kneel down on the grassy slope and ask God to help him to be brave and good. He had not forgotten the prayers which his gentle mother had taught him, and he prayed that God would help him to reach his home again.

When he had been a slave for six years, Patrick made up his mind to run away. In his dreams he kept hearing a voice telling him that a ship would carry him home. So, one night, he slipped away, and after days of walking and hiding, he at last reached the sea coast. Presently he came upon some sailors who were leading a number of fierce-looking dogs towards a ship, which was drawn up on the shore.

" Sailor," cried Patrick to one of the men, " Where are you going, and when do you leave ? "

" We sail in an hour," answered the tall seaman. " We are bound for Britain, to sell these wolf-hounds for hunting."

" Can I go with you ? " asked Patrick eagerly.

" If you can mind these dogs in a rough sea, you can come," said the sailor. " Here, take this pair aboard."

Patrick joyfully agreed, and the men were astonished at the way the great dogs at once obeyed him.

After they had set sail, a storm arose and blew the little ship to the coast of France instead of to Britain. Patrick left the Irish sailors and set out on foot to find his way home from this strange land. For many months he wandered about, until at last he reached Britain and his own home, to the great joy of his family.

Although he was very happy at home, and everyone loved him because he was good and kind, Patrick could not settle down. He felt sure that God had some special work for him to do. He could not forget the people in Ireland, and he longed to go and teach them about Jesus. But he knew he must first make himself ready for this great and difficult work.

So Patrick made up his mind to become a priest. He said goodbye to his family, and made his way back to France. There he became a priest, and for seventeen years he lived in a monastery. He read the Bible and learned how to teach the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

At last a great day came. Patrick was made a bishop, and given permission to go

to Ireland to convert its people to Christianity. Once more, Patrick crossed the stormy sea to the land where lie had been a slave, but this time he had with him a band of brave monks. After they had landed and prayed for God's blessing, they made their way inland to the home of Milcho, Patrick's old master. They found that Milcho had been killed in a battle against a neighbouring tribe, and his home was blackened by fire and in ruins.

Some of the wild Irish threw stones at the monks and tried to drive them away, but Patrick made peace with them and led them to the Hall of the greatest chief in those parts. This chief was feasting with his warriors and Druids, when a messenger rushed in to say that strangers had arrived. In the long, smoky hall the noise and singing ceased as the little party of quiet, calm men entered. One of them was carrying a tall cross. The chief stared curiously at them, for visitors were rarely seen in this distant land, and he asked who they were and where they had come from.

Lifting his hand, Patrick began to speak to them in their own language :

" We are men of God," he said. " We have come to bring you good news-the news of Jesus, the Son of God, and of his love and goodness to us all."

As he spoke to them, the fierce warriors saw that here was a man who was not only filled with love for all men, but who was without fear. So they let him speak, and they listened to his message.

The Druids were angry and alarmed at this new religion, but the chief became Patrick's friend. He was baptised a Christian, and he gave the monks a piece of land on which they built their first wooden church.

Patrick himself set out on journeys all over Ireland. He preached the Gospel to the people, telling them about Jesus and the Christian way of life. Wherever he went, he left monks and priests to build a church and start a monastery. He also wrote prayers and books in Latin, the language of the Church.

In time, even the Druids, who were the poets and musicians of their people, came to be baptised. They brought with them their harps, on which they played so beautifully that people said the angels in heaven bent down to listen. Ever since those days the harp has been the badge of Ireland.

Patrick lived in Ireland for many years, and he was known and loved all over the country. He died near his first wooden church, and he was buried in the green country, which he had made into a Christian land.

Soon afterwards Patrick was made a Saint. He has always been the special, or patron, saint of Ireland and of Irish folk everywhere, and the 17th of March is kept as Saint Patrick's Day.