It came to pass in the pleasant land of France, in the days of Robert the Devil, that a certain monk dwelt in the city of Caen, whose name was St. Feutre. Now this monk for all his sins felt called upon to make the pilgrimage to the Shrine of St. Michel-in-peril-of-the-sea, which is on a mount placed in the ocean not far from the good village of Pontorson. So this monk set forth from the Abbey Aux Hommes which had been founded as a religious house by William the Conqueror in expiation for his sins inasmuch as his marriage to Matilda was displeasing to Heaven.
He started upon the morning of a bright day, with staff in hand, his robe girded around him, the cockle-shells in his cap, and a new pair of sandals on his feet just turned out by the brother-cobbler of the Abbey. Now it was the season of the year when but few pilgrims are wending their way toward the west coast, so that St. Feutre had the road to himself, and though he set out blithely each morn he was much wearied at night when he arrived at the inn or a religious house where he was to sleep, and his feet were sore and worn by token that his sandals were new and his feet uneased to them, and has he walked on he thought to himself that each step taken in his new sandals was a part of the penance that was doing for many sins, of which he hoped to be relieved when he reached the shrine of holy St. Michel.
But at times, as the way waxed long, he felt that his penance was more than he could bear. From time to time on his tedious journey, he passed flocks of sheep being driven by the shepherds to the nearest market towns, and he wondered within his heart whether it would be displeasing to God if he should reach out his hand and pluck a handful of wool from the backs of the passing sheep and put the wool in his sandals for his feet to tread upon, and thus ease the soreness which his feet had taken from the shoes. And thus communed with himself it came to him that he would ask God to bless the action and vouchsafe a miracle to him that it had not been unfitting and he should thus make his pilgrimage more easy to his feet.
And so he plucked from the backs of the passing flocks of sheep, not one, but several handfuls of the wool, which he placed upon the soles of his shoes to his great comfort, and then he proceeded upon his journey, and lo! At the end of the fifteenth day he arrived at the island of mount St. Michel, and as he stood before the shrine of St. Aubert the miracle was vouchsafed to him, for he pulled of his sandals and in the bottom of each was a new cloth, unknown before, firm of texture, soft to the touch, and strong, made from the wool of the sheep, tramped down by the daily footsteps of the pilgrim. The miracle had been performed! And thus was the American Felt Company made possible in our day. This mark has been established to signify the products of this company, in memory of St. Feutre and his miracle.