This is the story of St Vincent de Paul, who was born in 1581 in the south of France on a little farm which his father owned. His father was very strict. 'come along now,' he would call out to Vincent in the morning, when Vincent would have given anything to have been allowed to stay on late in bed. 'Up you get! A good wash in the yard, and then off you go to see after the pigs!'  'Yes, father,' Vincent would answer, knowing well that he could not answer anything else. He did not mind washing in the yard in the summer when the sun was shining, and the larks were singing, and a little stream was rushing merrily near by. But washing in winter-time was quite different. The water then had great blocks of ice in it and the yard was dark except on mornings when there was still a little moonlight left from the night before, or the stars were so bright that they could be seen twinkling in the icy puddles. No lark were singing then. Only the occasional hoot of an owl could be heard.