190 WHIP AND SPUR. 



he had long been a Poor Brother of the Hos- 

 pital of St. John the Baptist in Lichfield, and 

 had, for many years, held, by seniority, the right 

 of presenting a rose, on St. John's nativity day, 

 to the heirs of William Juvenis (goldsmith), who, 

 by grants made in consideration of this ceremony, 

 had secured perennial prayers for the souls of his 

 ancestors and a fragrant memory for his own. 



Hedged about by the traditionary customs 

 and quaint observances of an ancient charitable 

 foundation, deadened in a way, if you please, 

 by the aristocratic pauperism of his condition, 

 my gentle companion had grown to his present 

 dreamy estate. 



As we reached Stow Pool, near the old parish 

 church of St. Chad, he pointed out the spring 

 of pure water where, twelve hundred years ago, 

 this future Bishop of Lichfield — who during 

 his hermit life supported himself on the milk 

 of a doe — was wont to pray naked in the water, 

 standing upon the stone still seen at the bottom 

 of the well, and where St. Ovin heard the an- 

 gels sing as his good soul passed away. 



