steep part of the Road, "these rocks are sharp and treacherous

er the mountain at this spot and are constantly growing more numerous, yet one meets only one's own

it, Michael?"

"The Plain of Sinful Things. It is b

s over, Michael?"

ard who has not been on it; and yet when one has been over, one remem

nd scorching before them. Multitudes, as far as the eye could see, were upon it. They struggl

with a marvelous beauty. His garments became robes of brilliant white. About his head a light played, the like of which Orville had never seen. It was more wondrous than dr

; tell me?" and Orville's voice sounded soft,

; for his glory is in the service. I will be with you to the foot of the Cross. In life you were a good master. You will

burning sands cooked his bleeding feet, but the anguish did not halt him. Torrents of tears and sweat rolled down from him, but his hunger for t

y come from the Cross

el, "for this is The Plain of Sinful Thin

hael had understood from the beginning. Michael saw the ch

d you buried when I had nothing, bore you over The Chasm of Neglected Duties, where your hardest lot was to be found. You did not even see another Chasm, which almost all meet, The Chasm of Forgotten Things, for the prayers gathered in a little chapel which you builded in a wilderne

traight at The Flaming Cross, which did not blind him. His burde

ster. Look, It comes toward yo

s not sweet enough for the music that filled the air. Like the falling of many waters in the distance came the promise of coolness to Orville's parched throat and his burning lips. His breast hea

ed sands, so that from them the flowers sprang up, full panoplied in color, form and beauty, and sweetly smelling. Around The Flaming Cross fluttered countless wings, and childish voices made melody, soft and harmonious beyond all compare. All else that Orville ever knew vanished before the glance of the Beloved; fac

ICAR-

Table of

burning on it, as if he were just ready to arise and begin a new "Introibo" in Heaven. The bells of the church wherein the Vicar-General lay asleep had called his people all the morning in a sad and solemn tolling. The people had come, as sad and solemn as the

d in cope and mitre to g

dity of a stranger, the Bishop had feared; but the Vicar-General guided his steps safely and well. Now the Bishop, gazing at the white, venerable face, remembered-and wept. In the midst of the Absolution, his voice broke. Prie

none of them knew that he was so near. He scanned the lines of the Bishop's face and seemed to wonder at his tears. He was quite unmoved by the sorrow around him, did not seem to care at all. Yet in life the Vicar-General had cared much about the feelings of others

some texture the Vicar-General had never seen in life. It shimmered like silk, shone like gold, and sparkled as if dusted with tiny diamonds. The hair of the Other was long, and fell, bright and beautiful, over his shoulders. His face seemed to shine out of it, like a jewel in a gold setting. His limbs seemed strong and manly

ay was perfect, for it was in the full glory of the summer; but the Vicar-General noticed little of either the day or the

knew-men and women of his flock, to whom he had ministered and many of whom he had seen die. They all smiled at the Vicar-General as they passed, and ranged themselves on one side. The Silent Angel stood very close to the Vicar-Gen

o whom he ministered, to whom he had broken the Bread of Life. How many there were! They gladdened the Vicar-General's heart. There were his converts, the children he had baptized, his penitents, the

feel the weight of the amice, which was like a heavy iron helmet crushed down over his shoulders. The cincture was binding him very tightly. He felt that he c

oken in anger. The Vicar-General remembered the day when he referred to this man in his sermon and saw him arise in his pew and leave. He did not return. Another was a priest-his own assistant. The Vicar-General had no patience with his weaknesses. From disgust at th

-comers he did not know. The Vicar-General felt like protesting that there must be some mistake, for the new-comers were red men, brown men, yellow men and black men, besides white men whose faces were altogether strange. He was sure none of these had ever been in his parish. The new-com

l of the priest could find no enlightenment in his eyes. All the while witn

atter of conscience to say that, while he was not complaining, nevertheless he really needed help and counsel. He said that his scattered flock was being lost for the want of things which could not be supplied out of its poverty. He told the Vicar-General what was needed. The Vicar-General remembered that he had agreed with him; but had informed him very gently that it was the policy of the diocese to let each parish maintain and support itself. The Vicar-General had felt justified in refusing his aid, especially since, at that time, he was collecting for a n

General had felt at that time, as he felt when his poor diocesan brother had come to him, that there was so much to be done at home, absolutely nothing could be sent out. There was the Orphanage which the Bishop was building and they were just beginning to gather funds for a new Cathedral. The Bishop had acquiesced in the Vicar-General's ruling. The diocese had flourished and had grown strong. The Vicar-General had always been its pride. He was humbled now u

mething-something against him. He could guess-could well guess what it was they would say. The Vicar-General knew that he had been wrong, and that his wrong had come into Eter

only felt His Presence. The Silent Angel had a book in his hand. The Vicar-General could rea

HICH THEY SH

e Vicar-General saw that it had but one

A PRIEST

unde

ORE, AND TEACH

e hope in the eyes of the Silent Angel gave him

RRECTION

Table of

t the curb. He flung open the door before the driver could alight, kissed the ring on the hand extended

aid as they entered the house, "and sure

hat he never confided to anyone save his nearest crony. They were all here now to witness the resurrection of Alta-the poorest parish in a not too rich Diocese, hopeless three years ago, but now-well, there it is across the lot, that symphony in stone, every line of its chaste gothic a

ies here," said the Bishop as he wat

answered, with a happy smile that had considerable s

e about, my lad?" q

riend McDermott opened his factory to Catholics. You know, Bishop, that though he was born one of us he had

ng to it on the Bishop's face, as he patted

! but I suppose we must begin to ve

intment on his face to the work of preparation, and

dored every line of the building. He had watched the laying of each stone, and could almost count the chips that had jumped from every chisel. There had never been so beautiful a day to him, and never such a ceremony but one-three years ago in the Seminary chapel. He almost forgot it in the glory of the

the top of the list now. He ha

s face, and he said nothing; so the Dean looked wise and mys

proud of you, but wait and listen." Then his voice dropp

e's cooking? Then you surely have heard of it, for all the Diocese knows about it, and everyone said that

ce to rub up the wit that had been growing rusty in the

was toa

careless families left. Bigotry rampant. Factories closed to Catholics. Church dilapidated. Only the vestry for a dwelling place. That was three years ago, and look around you to-day. See the church, house and school, and built out of what? That is Father Broidy's work and Father Broidy's triumph, but we are glad of it. No man has made such a record in our Diocese b

here was a quiver in his voice that age had never planted and in spite of the jokes which had preceded and the laughter which he had led, it sounded like a forerunner of tears. He had n

ratulations. This is truly a day the Lord has made-this day in Alta. It is a day of joy and gladness for priest and people. Will you pardon an old man if he stems the tide of mirth for an instant? He could not hope to stem it for long. On such an occasion as this it would burst the barriers, leaving what he would show you o

lta? Yes! Then let me tell you a story that your ge

ore known the depth of sympathy in the old Bishop till now. Every

lived on the pitta

hold and was loath to lose him, but the priest begged hard and was persistent; so the bishop asked me to take him for a few years and give him actual contact with the hardships of life in a pioneer state. Soon, he thought, the young man would be willing to return to his larger field. The bishop, in other words, wanted to test him. I sadly needed priests, so when he came with the oil still wet on his hands, I gave him a place-the worst I had-I gave him Alta. Some of you older men know what it was then. The story of Alta is full of sorrow. I told it to him, but he thanked me and went to his charge. I expected to see him within a week, but I

that, while his was a poor place, there were others approaching it. In my heart I knew there was something sadly lacking in our national work for the Church, but I could do nothing myself. He wrote to his own State for help, but the letters were unanswered. Except for the few stipends I could give him and which he devoted to his work, it was impossible to do anything. He was brave and never faltered though the eyes in him shone brighter and in places his coat was worn through. A few days later I received a letter from his bishop asking how he did and saying that he would appoint him to an excellent parish if he would return home willingly. I sent the letter to Alta with a little note of

ar that he was teaching the few children of the parish himself, and every little while I saw an article in some of t

in the storm. Father Belmond is sick and the doctor says he will die. He told me to look through every train that came in. He was sure I would find some one.' Reaching at once for my grip and coat I rushed to the home of the Pastor. The home was the lean-to vestry of the old log church. In one corner Father Belmond lived; another was given over to the vestments and linens. Ev

this night. He has been

nd appeared to look through me. He seemed to be very far away. But slowly the e

shop? Tha

urch. Then the eyes went wild again, and I saw when they opened and looked at me that he had already

iest and bishop as I w

at they were ceasing to care. The town was then, as it is to-day, McDermott's town, but McDermott had fallen away when his riches came, and some terrible event, a quarrel with a former priest who had attended Alta from a distant point, had left McDermott bitter. He practically drove the pastor from his door. He closed his factory to the priest's people and one by one they left. Only eighteen families stayed. The dying priest counted them over in his dreams, and sobbed as he tol

am nothing. It will all c

was only a child at that minute in spite of my white hair and wrinkles. He had offered a supreme sacrifice-his life. I gleaned from his prayers that his parents had done him the one favor of keeping up his insurance and that he had made it over to his church. So he wanted to die at his post and piteously begged God to take him. For his death he knew would give Alta a church. He seemed penetrated with the idea that alive he was useless, but that his death meant the resurrection of Alta. When I heard that same expression used so often to-day I lived over again the whole story of that night in th

height. McDermott fell sick and a telegram was sent for the priest-the last message before the wires came down. Father Belmond started to drive through the storm back to Alta. He succeeded in

I am telling you. 'God forgive me,' said the sick man, 'that priest died for me. When he came here I ordered him out of my office, yet when they tol

g thought, 'I never really believed until now; I'm sorry that it took a man's life to bring back the Faith of my fathers. Send us a priest to Alta-one who can do

t is needless to

hat is higher than all of them. I believed when I sent you here that you were of his stamp. You have done your duty and you have done it well. I am not ungrateful and I shall

WITH A D

Table of

man's own deed. His body lived still for debauchery, his mind lived still to ponder on ev

ith great rocks instead of green trees; and sandy, dry and arid plains instead of bright grass and flowers. But out of the rocks shone fiery veins of virgin

was all his own. Greedily he picked and dug till his weary body cried "enough." Then only he left, when his strength could dig

of the diamonds, all the time hoping for more strength to dig. But while waiting, his musings turned to hateful thoughts of all his kindred, and abhorrence of all good. So he said: "I have been driven from among men because they love virtue,

ng time in the forests and the most savage of the brutes were his friends. One

it sweetness and the great beasts who clothe me," answered the hermit. Then th

nd buffeted him and chilled him to the marrow. In vain he asked for mercy, t

l." So he went to dwell in the cave of the North Wind and the chil

them lay the clouds in snow crystals; and the man laughed his joy at the sight of the ruin-for he knew that the rain-clouds would have greened his desert and made it beautiful. But he heard the men who cultivated the lan

to watch the storms and laugh at the big waves eating the great ships. But there was only a gentle breeze blowing that day, and he saw great vessels laden with treasure and wealth passing from nation to nation. He saw the dolphins play over the boso

mysterious forces working. Through tiny paths warmth and nourishment ran to be near the surface that baby seeds might germinate, live and flourish for man's benefit. He saw great forests draw their strength from the very Earth into which he had burrowed

, "for there is more of evil in the g

diamonds twinkled in the pitiless sun rays. But a throne had been raised on a hi

invadest my dese

r," answer

my master?"

irit of

well with thee,

l and thou art welcome,"

he trident and demon

t thou hast passed from mortal life, and thy deeds of evil have brought thee my favor. If thou hast been successful in reaping the evil tho

ith whips in their hands; but no arm was raised to strike, fo

s face was twisted with agony: then he knew that somewhere an evil deed of his own had been turned to good. And ev

the veil.

erywhere. It was building temples to the mighty God where the poor could worship; and the hated Cross met his eye wherever he looked, dazzling his vision and blinding him with its light. Wherever the Finger of God glided the good came forth; the hungry were nourished, the n

he voice was strangely like his own, yet purified and sweet with sincerity and goodness.

ity girt about him. His eyes looked once into the eyes of the man with the dead soul. They were the

of the great rocks and the diamonds shone in the sunlight. He looked at them not at all, but straightway he went to where good men san

IOGRAPHY

Table of

tists whose brains conceived the beauty of my face and whose hands realized the glory of their dreams. But to them I was only a pretty thing of paper with line and color upon it. They gave me nothing else,

longed to break that I might escape to the welcoming hands of men who looked longingly at me thr

that some even bartered their peace of mind to obtain me, and others, forced to see me go, shed tears at the parting. Some, unable to have me go to them otherwise, actually stole me. But all the time I cared nothing, for I was living and do

ir and pointed beard, who frowned at me and said: "You poor, faded, dirty thing, to think that I made you!" But I did not ca

rdian should lose her home were the demand refused. I was given over, I hoped, to better quarters, but in this I was sadly disappointed, for my new owner confined me in a strong but ill-favored box where thousands like myself were growing mouldy and wrinkled, away from the light of day. Sometimes we were released at night to be carefully c

ou satisfied now?" I looked across the table at a young girl with a

he snarled at her. "I can tell you aga

d spit a flame at him. He fell across the table and something red and warm went all over me. I began to be unhap

d have mercy on your soul." But I knew, for I told you I could see more than most men, that he didn't believe in the Lord or in souls. He left the court to spend me at a --, bu

it better to die, I suppose, than be shamed. So she died-unbought. It made me still more unhappy to think of it at all. The dark stain never left me, but I cared nothing for that.

under new forms of paper and metal, coin, drafts, checks, orders and notes. Indeed I scarcely knew myself when I returned to the bill with the red stain upon it. My partners were nearly all with us one day when the master came in with a man and pointed us out to him. The man shook his head. It was a great, massive head, good to look at. My m

om whom he had stolen me. The priest who stood by his bed implored him. He refused and the priest turned from him without saying the words of absolution. When the chill came on him he hissed and spi

but to me and my companions h

s not glad enough. He could have conquered had he only wil

to be trampled on again and again. When the fight ended I was torn and filthy, so that, patched and ugly, my next master sent me back to the

," he said, "with riches and knowledge and strength, but I am only His steward. This money like all the rest shall be spent in His service." Then we were se

ds of mercy I did in my master's name, I felt the call to another deathbed-his own. I saw my companions flying from the bounds of the great earth to answer the call. They knew he needed them now with the rich interest of good deeds they had won for him. Fast they came and the multitude of them filled him with wonder. The enemy who hated him pointed to them in derision. "Gold buys hell, not heaven," he laughed, but we stood around the bed and the enemy could not pass us. Then we, and deeds we did for him at his command, began to pray and the prayer was like sweetest

el tou

is, thou shalt work for him and thy deeds of good shall be his own. Wherever thou shalt go let the Cross arise that, under

my real power; that I can do what

RD DE LA M

Table of

aping, snapping, and frothing at us from the St. Lawrence, and over the moan of th

I think of my own baby when I hear him, alw

here the little mother lived-pauvre mêre. She was only a child, innocent and good and happy, when he cam

e her-forgot the innocence that made her beautiful-forgot the pure Mother and the good God, for

Grand Seigneur killed the little baby, killed it to save her from disgrace

to find him. But she never sees, only hears him cry for her-and God. Till the great Day of Judgment will the baby cry, and she-pauvre mêre-will pay the price of her sin, pay it out of he

oned. The lost do not return to Earth and Hope. He never comes. Only th

TNO

ailing whenever there is a great storm. The people call it Le Brai

END OF

Table of

lk-lore tales. Ghosts of the past people its shores, phantom canoes float down the river of mystery; and disembodied spirits troop back to earth at the dreamer's call; trad

low of the river to the soft notes of the native's tongue, and dom

ring nothing for toil or hardship, gradually grew to be a grand monsieur in the estimation of the people about him. He loved his country well and, when war came, sent f

t John to a hero's rest, and two of the trapper's sons lay dead on the Plains of Abraham. They had died bravely, as Desc

l, the be

was-a t

tian's hope lightened the; mourner's desolation. But disgrace! Neither earth nor heaven held consolation for such wrong as his.

nto fierce invective. Misery had isolated him from his kind; the grand monsieur was the recluse

an of half-noble family, who completed the work of alienation. Traitorous deed, kindred and race were all forgotten,

o the house of Deschamps! Let his baptism be celebrat

making known the tidings, but bore no mes

ants, mindful of Pascal's treason. "A chil

his name, but courtiers all; and with them came an unbidden guest, an aged trapper, unshorn and roug

sh mother, strong of limb as befitted the trapper's descendant. Unconscious of the h

s," said his laughing spons

English guests, pleased with the c

oice instinct with wrath. "Unha

st and stood among them, his mien majestic with the dignity of sorrow. Pasca

nd linked the name of Deschamps forever with patriotism and Faith. But your treachery has destroyed my hope and smirched the memory of your brothers, whose names are written on the roll of martyrs to their Faith and country. Ah, Pascal, how I love

had reached his canoe before the stupefied revelers were roused into pursuit. But they h

my line! The English cross shows! The strain shows! I must wash it out! Hush, my little one, thy grandfather guards thee; soon shalt thou sleep in my arms-arms that cradled thy father, and shall hold thee forever. I, who was ever gentle, who spared the birds and beasts, and sorrowed with the trapped beaver, will spare thee, too, my baby-wi

wings, dipped to the surface and disappeared. The race of Deschamps was

SAND DOL

Table of

rs kept crossing and re-crossing his legs. Neither of them looked at the young priest, who ten minutes before had welcomed them with a merry laugh and had placed them in the most comfortable chairs of his little bookish den, as cordially as if they were the best friends he had in the world. Now the young priest looked old and the

quite see," he repeated anxiously, "how I can owe you so much. You know our contract w

McMurray with shifting embarrassment, "but y

any extras, Mr. McMur

the specifications called fur. It cost in labor, sur,"-McMurray did not seem to be enjoying his explanation-"fur di

me it would cost mor

ur; but a child would know tha

representative both as architect and superintendent of the building. I know that McMurray's bill of extras is

would take all over the amount called for by the contract. You can not expect to get blood out

and you got off cheap enough. That church is worth ten thousand dollars, if it's worth a cent; and McMurray did you a clean,

else," answered the priest. "This thing has sort of stunned me. Give me one

onth, sur. I am not a hard man, sur; but I've got to pay off m

ked longingl

iest's step had lost its spring

distance of a block away from the

es, sur; I f

ct. "I know what you were going

was reached, and they had drowned the recollection of the youn

hem, he had perhaps seen a little humor in the situation; but the bolting of the door was the only sig

usand dollars and the Bishop coming in two w

rom his pocket and read it to himself

lt the church, as I told you to, without debt. The congregation is too p

oting you. The parish of Lansville is vacant. In a month you may consider yourself its pastor. In the meantime, I wil

y yours i

Bishop o

other with me, and at least enough to live on after my ten years of sacrifice; but one thousand dollars spoils it all. How

wn, with discouragement written on every line of his face.

was concerned. There were in it forty indifferent, because neglected, Catholic families. They had just en

succeeded in erecting the little church. His warnings to the architect had gone without heed; and he fo

ore him, and in the morning it was

kindly way about him and who laid his grip very tenderly on the floor before he shook hands with Father Ryan. His companion looked vastly different

the big man. "First vacation in ten years for both of us, but there is nothing to it.

th of you go home?

off the train at my little burg, and so would Barry, for that matter; but we were both warned to

"I am glad to have you, but this is

sking me. I am on a vacation, I tell you. So is Barry. He won't talk, so I ha

r Ryan, "but you will say the late Mass, anyho

and you say the first, yourself. Then you can preach as sho

llection Sunday," interrupted Father

not one of his old professors had been changed. Then he knew his obligations to the Seminary; he was one of those who took obligations seriously. So Father Fanning was obliged, af

laces when we are gone. On the Seminary depends the future of the Church amongst you: therefore, the future of religion in your families. Looking at this thing in a selfish way, for the present alone, there is perhaps no need of giving your little offering to this collection; but if you are thinking of your children and your children's children, and the future of religion, not only in this community but all over our State, and even in the Nation, you will be generous-even lavish, in your gifts. This is a poor l

Fanning shook hands

hat was a great appeal you made. My collection is probably postponed until next Sunday, when I get

omehow, they seemed to worry him now that the sermon was off his mind. The one thousand dollar d

, roughly dressed and covered with mud. There was a two-horse rig from the livery

get the fast train. I find that you have no trains here on Sunday. I hadn't been to Mass for three months, for we have no place to go out there where

ur, "Thank you. You are not

d before me now, and have driven twenty miles this morning. I don't belong around here at all. I live in New York;

ey both had reached the livery rig. A quick "Good-bye" from the visi

ther Fanning was taking breakfast at the table. Father Barry was occupying himself with a book, which he

d of telling you what we had to say about you; but there is one

Ryan. "Haven't I treated y

ried at first. Then you dropped it, but you started to worry again just as soon as you came out of the sanctuary.

rom his book and said: "Surely,

spoke. "Well, I never could keep a secret," he said. "Therefore, I suppose I never will

secret is the fellow you have to watch. You never know what he is thinking about, so nobody ever is sure of him.

ut the church,"

told hi

, besides booming the Seminary. Why man, the Seminary ought not ask anything from you, in your present condition. But there is no use trying to pound sense into you. What are you going to do about this? It is too much money

s well settle down where I am. I certainly will not get very much of a promotio

"I did not notice him. Wh

ns and away from church for the last three months. He must have found something up there, because he is going on to New York t

thing in the collection

but he gave it to me afterward and told

aid it flat on the table. The three men ga

aid, "you ought to go out and thank God on your knees before the alta

it is the end of my trouble. I never dreamed it woul

e let his two friends ramble on, both overjoyed at the good fortune that had extricated

you preached on to

eached on the Seminary. Didn't

on the Seminary,"

that you pledged every dollar that ca

Ryan, "but this did not com

id you not say that the strange man t

e did say somet

a question to be debated as to whether or n

He has got to get out of it. What difference is it if I put my money in one pocket or in the other pocket. This all belongs to God anyhow. The thousand dollar note was given to the Church, and t

he Seminary. This money forms part of the collection. I know perfectly well that most men would argue as you do, but this is a case of conscience. The money was given for a specif

e giver of this money would be only too glad to have it go to pay off the debt. What does he know about the Seminary? He was attending the little church out here, and whatever good he

e are full of zeal for the glory of God at home, and that means that sometimes we unconsciously are full of zeal for our own glory. Look it up. I

scussions only ended when the door closed upon them. There was

and decide for yourself. But there is one thing I can testify to, besides the stubbornness of my venerable friend here, and that is that I have learne

went straight to his desk and

063.10. You may be surprised at the first figure; but there was a thousand dollar note

for dedication as y

and I will meet

that night; but in spite of his worry, and to his own great surpris

in manner, but if the truth were known, kindly at heart, fini

o the Bishop and laid a financial statement before him. The Bishop glanced at it, frowned and the

e deceit upon me, Father Ryan," he said. "You wro

ch I knew nothing, amounting to one thousand dollars. I am one thousand dollars behind. I assure your Lordship that it was not my fault, except that perhaps I should have known more about the tactics of the men I wa

ll fixed upon his face, it did not seem quite natural. There was a

only this week, for the Seminary," he said. That surely indicates th

ill have to give them a rest for a year and stay here and face the debt. The man who gave the thousand dollar bill was a stranger-a miner. I do not know him at all. He did not eve

. "Of course you know that your appo

said Father Etan. "You have no obl

to the door and ask my

ishop said to him: "Have you the l

ded it and, taking another glance at the dejected youn

n from the mountains and went to Mass at Ashford. When I was going away I gave the young priest a thousand dollar note. If you recognize my name, you will understand that it was not too much for me to give, for though I am a stingy sort of fellow

rt in the mountains, and they will start when I get back to New York, I may need that young priest to come up and take care of my men; so I want the money to go to his church, wh

ctfull

l Wi

er Ryan saw all the sternness

Ryan; but I think, if I were you, I would stay here. When Wilcox says things are going to move, they usually do. Think it over and take your choice. Here is your thousand dollars. I do not f

OCCA

Table of

s was tardy, had to be dressed in a hurry. Then Tom had come down stairs with an elegant part to that portion of his hair which was right above his forehead, but the back section, which the mirror did not show, was

the O'Briens

hole family, bedad. What brings

n were left behind where they could not hear: "It's Father C

but I ran over to see ye. Yes, it's his turn. Sure, the poor man puts me to sleep, and s

t preacher. I can't sit still and listen to him. He loses his voice the minute he gets before the people, and some day I

he business I had when I ran off to see you. Couldn't you let the Missis take care of the children at this Mass? McGarvey wants t

t of the church, and whom should they meet but Father Collins hurry

arochial school. The two men touched their hats in greeting. Father Collins returned the salute. He crossed the street qui

The first assistant, who was still fasting, with the obligation of singing High Mass u

me in, man, and be at home. I couldn't sleep, so I had to get up and wait around, hungr

hole parish is turning out to-day for the eight o'clock Mass. The O'Briens

compliment either to my singing, or y

is all right," ass

cknowledge that I can sing-at least, relatively speaking, for I haven't very much to

Seminary. You know I am not an ignoramus and you know that I work hard. I prepare every sermon and write it out; when the manuscript is

ked up a book and pretended to be interested in it. In truth, he was glancing at h

"It is a good sermon. I wish I could write one half

her Collins, "I

ce? Can't you have courage? The people won't bite you. You can talk well enough to the school children. You can talk well enou

the church to preach. When I open my mouth, I lose my voice out of fear. That is wha

is in you, and it will come out, yet. I call this sermon nothing short of a masterpiece. I

. You preach so easily. You can get up a sermon in half an hour. You have nothing to do until half past ten. Now, let me go out and make the announ

things, it may spoil you. You ought not to give way, but-you are white as a sheet

t. He went to the church to prepare for the Mass

o the priest's side and whispered a message. He was plainly excited, and trying hard to

tom of the gallery stairs, where they meet the people from the body of the church out in that vestibule. The chief sent me to you to tell you to go on preaching and hold the grown folks down stairs for ten minutes. The firemen will get the little ones out without noise or fuss, if you can keep the attention of the people. I'll whisper 'all ri

st thought of the galleries emptying into the little ve

ess. He advanced to the front of the altar platform, opening his book; but he closed it again coolly. Then, i

d the Epistle or the Gospel to-day. I have a few words to

r. O'Brien groaned softly. They ha

n to leave the rear pews. He had ten minutes to fill in. The people below could see only the front rows of the gallery, which in this church, built in the old style, ran on three sides. So Father Collins preached. It was the sermon he had prepared for the High Mass, but which he could not deliver. The beauty of

be distracted now. Something must be done to hold their attention when the noise of the moving of that front row would fall upon their ears. In two minutes all would be well. That two minutes were the greatest of the priest's life. Into them centered every bit of intensity, earnestness and enthusiasm he possessed. He rapidly skipped part of his sermon and came to the burst of appeal, with which he was to close. The people could see him tremble in every limb. His face was as white as his surplice. His eyes were wide open and shining as if he were

out quietly now. Let one pew empty at a time. Do not crowd. There is no danger, at pre

n your seats. Do not start a rush. Do not worry about the children, they are all out. Look at the galleries. The

f the people, and then, the church emptied, he loo

sock. "The floor here may give way any moment.

rst into the big church, which, poor old relic of the

Dr. Reilly, but neither of them had much to say.

e: "What did you thin

ly, "that though it cost us the price

ANKEE

Table of

approach to a scoffer in the two parishes, ever went so far as to call the Cure of Ste. Agatha by such an undeserved name, since the good, fat priest had the glaring fault of stinginess which all the country knew but never mentioned. They loved him too much to mention his faults. He was good to the sick and faithful to their inter

ce. On a fine day it was delightful to sit under the great trees and see the flowers and chat and smoke, with just the faint smell of the evening meal stealing out of Margot's kingdom. It was a standing rule that this meal was to be taken toge

e. Agatha. Stern and unbending were his comments and the accounts of his week's doings. And his friend's

ars in Quebec, mild old fellows mostly. A few pennies would suffice for them, and when they

ng, "he would almost bother you yourself with all your experience. He

eds them-nothing more. They can not trap me with any of their foolish tales. It is n

He spoke only English. When I came up he arose and took off his cap, very politely for a Yankee too. But, God forgi

he priest?'

Monsieu

peak En

understand.

not money; though I am very hungry. You will give me something? Thank

seat and he dr

ve it altered a little and made safe to wear. That little jeweler suspected us. I saw it at once and we were alarmed. He informed the constable of the ring matter. We were watched and then we saw that it would be better to go. We feared that the New York police would learn of us, so we took the stuff out three miles in the country one dark night and buried it. I know the spot, for it is near the old school where the road turns for Sherbrooke. Then we went West, to Michigan. We broke into a store there and we were arrested, but New York heard of the capture and the Michigan authorities gave us up. We were tried and a lawyer defended us by the Judge's orde

ar that I cried just a little too. It

inued: 'Well, Father, I am here to do

the money and give it to the owner. He would tell me his

d a reliable man to go with me to-ni

k and shovel from the cemetery. I gave him food and thanked God

the horse and buggy just outside of the town. If there is danger I will not see him, and he can return. I

clock I heard him coming. It was very dark and he knocked sharply and quickly, a

ng the key. The valise is locked. Give me something that I

st note in my purse

ned the valise just a very little to see the heap of precious things. There was an old cigar-box and something heavy rolled in cotton. I thrust the chisel down till I opened the box. There was no treasure in it at all, but just a lot of iron-shavings. I felt that I had been fooled and I broke the valise open.

u! It wa

ted Cure of Ste. Agatha, who must have felt sorry that the fri

felt that the sight of it would make me hard to the poor who really were deserving. I wanted to forget how

looked at his friend with a face as red as fire, and started toward the gate. He took two steps, came b

He had the money for one pick and one shovel in his pocket keeping company with one note from the purse of the generous Cure of

worried millionaires are lost to the States, to make a few irresponsible but happy rascals

o opinions on the matter at all, for th

CONNOLLY BEGA

Table of

know, so that you just felt that if you ever did get into difficulties, Father Tom Connolly would be the first man for you to talk it all over with. But Father Tom had a large parish, in a good-sized country town, to look after; and so, while you thought that you might monopolize a

s Peter; but no one ever called him Father Peter. Every one addressed him as Father Ilwin. Somehow this designation alone fitt

orm a new parish. Father Ilwin was young. He had no rich brogue on his tongue to charm you into looking at his coat in expectation of seeing hi

n Father Tom to say, "I told you so" to himself, and to have him pity Father Ilwin to others in that superior sort of way that cuts and stings more than a whip of scorpions. Then, when Father Tom spoke to some of his people of Father Ilwin's poor success and said, "He meant well, good lad," they all praised the soft, kind heart of Father Tom; but when Father Ilwin heard of this great kindness he just shut his lips tightly, and all the blood was chased from his set face

im a friendly visit, or to go to his righteous confession. He visited no homes out of his territory, though he had baptized pretty nearly every little curly-headed fairy in each. They were his no longer

d worn, and that his building work was stopped, and people did not seem to sympathize with him, at all, at all. Over in his parish there were open murmurs that "the people had built one church and should not be asked now to build another"; or "what was good enough for Father Tom was good enough for anyone"; or "the Bishop should have consulted us before he sent this young priest into Father Tom's parish." In the other part of the town, however, everything was quiet enough

m, where on the table were laid out the plans of

a monastery quite far away to take his place over Sunday, he left to see a sick brother from whom he had seldom heard, and who lived far in the Southwest. Perhaps it was significant, perhaps not-I do not know, and I do not judge-that Father Tom was particular to say in h

n at Charton station in Texas, he was worn out and weary. But he soon had to forget both. A dapper young man was waiting for him in a bugg

he Reverend Th

the priest

g for you. I am your n

his weariness in

a clergyman?"

village. Father was always a Romanist, but

more was needed. In a few minutes the buggy stopped before the Con

"is that young Bapti

Tom, h

efore she knew. 'Twill be no warm welcom

ow I might forget them, till now. Somehow, it doesn't seem quite right

id one

wn here for his health and who was stationed in this town for about a year. He went ba

hen he took his brother's hand and said in his old boy language: "Paddy, lad, tell

s in all. We could get no more, and money was bringing twelve per cent, so we couldn't borrow. We had to give it all back and wait. Without church or priest, the children went to the Sunday-schools and-I lost them. Then, I, somehow, seemed to drift until this priest came for his health. He got us few Catholics together and converted my best-my baby girl-Kathleen. She was named after mother, Tom. We could only raise eight hundred dollars this time, but the priest said: 'I'll go to my neighbors and ask help.' So he went over to Father Pastor and Father Lyons, but they refused to help at all. They have rich parishes, whose

The sick man reached out his hand w

is way, Tom, and we say our beads together. I know it won't be long now, dearie, 't

his brother's ey

l was over. His nephew accompanied th

y for you," and Father Tom groa

rived home, though quite by accident. Kathleen's eyes danced w

idea that you kn

e child. "Why, uncle, it was F

ard, but did

reposed the plans of the new church, but no sound of hammer was heard outside. Father Tom had little to say, but it was to the point. H

asn't. Ilwin, we can build that church and we will. Here are a thousand dollars as a start to show that I mean it. There'll be a c

her Tom Connolly b

NBROK

Table of

use-filled Mud Run, and touched foot to the one filthy, slimy street of the town. He was coming from the camp of the militia,

He was glad enough of that, for suspicion was in the air and he knew it. Right in his way was Calvalho, who had been one of his trustees and his very best friend when he first came to the parish. It looked now as if he had no longer a friend in all the mud-spat

even these few words, which followed him, g

and he saw that Maria Allish had flung a stone through the bank window. She had a shawl quite filled with large stones. With

street, gun in hand, followed by half a dozen others. One of them s

will not," ans

buildings," said the soldier. "God! Ther

glow from his window. It remind

er called him to

What could a Pole do with these Huns who have no sympathy

coward. Why should he dis

people do what he wants. He curs

ever tried to speak to God, so he has never learned an

the old housekeeper. "Even the women won't come

"at heart they are good people, and t

" said Judith, "but now t

He was here the patient Church whi

. He heard shots, but he knew that it would be useless to interfere. He waited for some one

he was Slevski's wife. She was not of these people by race, nor of his own. She was English-speaking and did not come t

t true that no single word of a confess

rue," he

re to die for

he were

re a puzzled express

not betray it

n by an

or it?" Her voice

n th

e? I will kneel afterward, if necessary, but I c

e answered. "It is irregular to hear your confession o

go," she said

n the penitent's side of the confessiona

d the priest. "Have you b

married him, never since. Yes, yes, I ought to be known to you. Listen now,

you were in the company's pay and working against the men. One of them will come to-night and ask you to go on a sick-call. They intend to shoot you at the bridge

," said the priest

d you," she answered breathless

t. "I fear that it would violat

already. He may have followed me, for I refused to call you. If he knows I am her

any more. God will take care of me," s

self, and his duty. Through the open door of the church he

inished his daily office. He laid the book down on the arm of his chair, went to his desk and wrote a few lines, sealed them in an envelope and left it addressed on the blotter. He was outwardly calm, but h

t do it. I am young. Have pity on me. I

f he did not go. Perhaps Slevski had not suspected his wife

. The priest knew there was no longer even a lingering doubt as to what he sh

he old housekeeper appeared

ther side of the Run. It is for his wife,

ed the old servant into the

. The crucified Christ gazed down from His cross at him and seemed to smile; but the priest's eyes swam with tears, and a great sob burst from him. He opened the door, but lingered on t

Dolorosa; that along it a man who loved them dragged a heavy Cross for their sake; that

story before the trap o

F THE

Table of

fteen minutes later, I knew that my old college chum had changed, only outwardly. True, the stamp of Prince Edward Island, which the natives call "the Island," as if there were no other, was upon him;

t. Of course, there was meat; but the mealy potatoes and the fresh cod-oh, such potatoes and cod-were the b

red clay roads which were often lined with spruce, and always with grass cropped

ached the top of a charming hill, overlooking a picture in which the bright gre

t that," he pointed toward the water. "We call it Pownal Bay. Do you see how it winds in and out everywhere among the spruce and the fields. Then look off in the distance. That is Hillsboro Bay. You passed through it this morning. Do you see the little islands out there?

ac, and-" But Mac turned to salute a gentleman

d. The doctor bowed with what lo

o. Wasn't I born here? By the way, that chap who passed us is Franklin, Doctor Franklin. He is head of

that he was quite as fraternal in his gre

her name for the whole United States, on this Island-and who came back a fizzle and a failure to work his father's farm. But say, Bruce," and Mac turned to me very quickly, "what brought you here, anyhow? I wager there is

I am glad I came," I answered, "but yo

joy in his voice: "You were sent?

s you, Mac, for it looks as i

Mac grew g

it better than the best Greek scholar the college ever produced. Mac, you must come, and I must bring you home. You know the

prepared for the interview, and I knew Mac. I though

There are lots of such men who come from around here. Down in that village is the birthplace of your Secretary of the Interior. These people, my people, wors

wered, not quite seeing why he had thrown

off. It would require explanations. What difference if I have six letters after my name? To

now, won't you! The college w

ut not with the love I have for the old college, though I was born here. Can you imagine that old Roman general, whom they took away from his plow to lead an army, refusing the offer but k

able. There is nothing here fo

God made me to do-and he surely made me for Greek, Bruce. Do not think I am foolish or headstrong, I long for my work. But Bruce, if you ca

e of the greatest Greek scholars in the world? Don't you think you owe the world something? What are you giving? Nothing! You have suppressed even the knowledge of what you are from the people around you. You get a curt nod from the head of a little college. These people c

am taking you home with me now, instead of threshing this out in the hotel at Charlottetown, beca

a quarter of a mile. Mac opened the gate, led the horse through it, closed it ag

s everybody well-I mean of the people I knew b

ll," I said, "and I

"trump card," bu

nce, and, passing through it, we walked along the pathway before the house, so that I could enter through the front door and be received in the "front room." Island opposition to affectation or "putting on," as the people

xture of Irish and Scotch, unpleasant only because unsoftened. But you could scarcely call it brogue. It struck me as a sort of protest against affectation; as the Islander's way of explaining, without putting it in the sense of the words, that he does not want to be taken at a false valuation

th an altar above and candles all around it. It was a strange religious conceit. On another wall was a coffin plate, surrounded with waxed flowers and framed, with a little photograph of a young man in the center of the flowers. The chairs

d see that she was blind. She had a strange-looking old shawl, the like of which I had only a vague recollecti

ruce," he sai

r Bruce, mother. He has come all the way from New York to see me. I'll leave yo

ed at me as he led her to a chair and said: "Bruce does

ce. Mac left us, and his mother asked if I would not have some tea. I refused

son at college?

rs. McKinney. He wa

y began to

rse, if he hadn't failed, I couldn't hope to keep him, so it is better, perhaps, as it is. But he was such a smart boy and so anxious to get on. It was a great disappointment to him; and then, of c

to und

around me and the four big posts standing guard over a feather bed, into

he fields, before I was up for breakfast,

mother and sister and the people around her

y, "I did not exactly tell them

the whole college." But aloud: "Did you tell t

had to let them

the traveling scholarship you won,

the best brother that ever lived-it is his picture they have in that hideous frame in the front room-died two months before I graduated. Bruce, there was no one but me. If I had told the truth, they would not have let me stay. They would have starved first. Why, Bruce, sister never wore a decent dress or a decent hat, and mother

oing back alone. When you are free, the college is waiting.

rstood now its appeal to him. The waters, beautiful as they were, were barriers to his Promised Land. Would Te

ongst God's children, but I could think only of you as she passed the lighthouse, and the two tiny islands that every one knows but no one visits, and moved down the Strait of Northumberland toward the world that is yours by right of yo