October 14 -- Feast of Saint Selevan

There's a spot in Penzance (Cornwall, UK), not far from Land's End, with a small stone chapel and a  crumbling well nearby.  The ends of the benches in the chapel are carved with many things -- some fantastic and mythological but others easily recognized as Christian.  One bench has two fish on a single hook, a curious, unique design.   

The best I could find

The bench commemorates a day when a local hermit named Selevan (Levan, for short) was fishing down at the seashore.  He caught two bream (or maybe chad, there's some debate) on one hook, but since they would be too much for him to consume, he released them both and recast.  He hooked them again, and again he released them.  When he hooked them both at once for a third time, he decided to relent and take them home with him.  Sure enough, he found his sister Breage and her two children there to visit him.  Unfortunately, the kids tucked in with uncommon zeal and both choked on the bones, leading to that particular fish (either chad or bream) being locally referred to as "choke children."  As in, "we're having choke-children for dinner tonight.  Would you like to come over?" 

St. Selevan's Stone -- Split with his fist!

In the same town, down in the little churchyard, there's a boulder split asunder.  It had been a holy spot among the old druids -- something involving fertility -- but Selevan used it as a seat to rest from fishing.  The pagan power was later neutralized by a large stone cross that looms over it.  The local legend says that Selevan himself split the stone f to leave some mark of himself.   One source says he split it with his staff, but another says with his fist.  Frankly, I like the idea of him cracking it with his fist much better.   There's a rhyme that goes with it, purportedly his own spell or prophecy:

When with panniers astride,
A pack horse can ride,
Through Saint Levan’s Stone,
The World will be done.

The well from which no water will baptize a Johana

There's a third legend about the saint, not much more theologically enlightening than the first two.  Selevan was on his way down to the shore to cast a line and fish for his dinner on a lovely Sunday afternoon.  His neighbor Johana, out picking herbs from her garden, admonished him for fishing on the Sabbath.  He gave her a few things to think about: first, that there was no sin in fetching one's own dinner; second, she herself was performing a similar act by taking herbs; and third, she should stop being such a meddling old crone and shut the @#$% up.  She in turn told him some things that could not be repeated on this site.  And he replied that if any child were ever christened Johana with water from his well, she'd be a bigger fool than that Johana herself.  And from that day to this, anyone living in St. Levan who wants to name their daughter Johana (or Joanna, or Johanna) takes her to nearby Sennen for baptism.