Free Catherine, Called Birdy by Karen Cushman

come I, Saint George. I am called Saint George for Saint George is my name"—and he looked golden and beautiful, like a saint and not much like a goat boy, even when his golden wig fell off and Brutus ate it. The dragon he battled was fearsome and bellowed so convincingly that I forgot it was but paper and wood and gears from the mill: "I am the iron dragon which no sword can undo. I eat the small, the pure, the young, and spit their bones at you!" It was gruesome and ugly and will give me nightmares. Perfect.

    7 TH DAY OF J ANUARY ,
Feast of Saint Lucian of Antioch, leader of the Lucianists
    I had not a nightmare last night but a dream. Again my uncle George came to rescue me from a dragon. The dragon threw at George a handful of dirt, which turned into a bolt of lightning, and George died at my feet. Has the curse then worked? Is George in danger? What does it mean?

    8 TH DAY OF J ANUARY ,
Plough Monday and Feast of Saint Nathalan, farmer
    Today the villagers celebrated what would have been the first
day of work since before Christmas if they weren't celebrating instead. I walked down to the churchyard and watched the village boys dancing and fooling. I wonder which is the day when ladies dance and fool.

    9 TH DAY OF J ANUARY ,
Feast of Saint Fillan, ancient Irish abbot, whose bell and staff and arm still survive
    Now that Christmas is over, we are putting the manor to rights again. Morwenna made me help the kitchen boys dig out the pits and bones and dog droppings from the rushes on the hall floor. We found a silver gilt belt with jeweled buckle, three shoes, a lady's stocking, a wad of fake hair, a rat skeleton, and two silver pennies. I also found Ralf Emory's knife that he accused Walter of Pennington of stealing. Walter is going to the king to complain and there may be a joust between them at the next tournament, though no one stole it after all—it fell into the rushes. Should I tell? I would dearly love to see that joust.
    This afternoon we sprinkled dried mint and thyme and gillyflowers over the cleaned rushes. The hall smells much better, but that may be because Robert is not here today.

    10 TH DAY OF J ANUARY ,
Feast of Saint Paul of Thebes, the first hermit. He lived to be one hundred thirteen and two lions dug his grave
    A very special holiday—Robert has left. He took with him Brutus, my favorite of the pups, even though I cried and argued and thumped him on the chest with my fists. As they were riding out the gate, Brutus made water in Robert's lap and now I have him back. I think the little creature is bruised and frightened so he will sleep in my bed tonight. Morwenna and the Eternal Guests will just have to make room. Thomas leaves tomorrow. I will be sorry to see him go.

    11 TH DAY OF J ANUARY ,
Feast of Saint Hyginus, pope and martyr
    The ice on the river has finally frozen hard enough to walk on. Perkin and Gerd the miller's son came to the kitchen for bones that they will polish and fasten to their shoes so they can glide on the ice. I begged my mother to be allowed to go, but she had a headache and would not speak of it. I made her a potion of peony root and oil of roses to soothe her head. Being angry, I wanted to add spurge and deadly hemlock to it, but mostly I love her, so I didn't. Instead I thought to make a list of all the things girls are not allowed to do:
go on crusade
be horse trainers
be monks
laugh very loud
wear breeches
drink in ale houses
cut their hair
piss in the fire to make it hiss
wear nothing
be alone
get sunburned
run
marry whom they will
glide on the ice
    12 TH DAY OF J ANUARY ,
Feast of Saint Benedict Biscop, who collected books
    I have heard that a cloth merchant in Lincoln has a privy not in the yard but inside his house, in a little room built out over a stream so that the stream washes the waste away. Such a wonder! I have it in my mind to go to Lincoln and
see for myself. I would sit in the privy and piss and think about my water flying through the air, sailing on