s this chap?"

"It is," I said. "He reads a good deal--"

"Look here, Father Dan, I don't know what we're coming to. Did you ever
see such a sight as that table to-night?"

"Never," I replied, resignedly.

"Would any one believe, when we came on the mission, that we'd live to
see such things? Why, these fellows talk up to us as if we were their
equals. Don't you remember when a curate daren't open his mouth at
table?"

"Of course," I replied, demurely.

"And it is only now I am beginning to discover the vagaries of this chap
of mine. Do you know what he wants? A shrine, if you please,--some kind
of picture, with candles lighting before it all day. 'Can't you say your
Rosary,' I said, 'like your betters?' No, he should have the shrine. And
now he wants to force on Benediction every Sunday,--not every first
Sunday of the month, but every Sunday, if you please. And he has a big
red lamp, burning in what he calls his oratory. You can see it miles
away. I say to the boys, 'Don't be afraid to put to sea at night now,
boys. Begor, ye've got a lighthouse at last.' Well, good by! What's
this thing you want?"

And he jotted down the name, I presume phonetically, in his note-book.
Now, mind, that man has not had a scandal in his parish for fourteen
years; and he is up to his neck in securities for half the farmers of
the district.

All this time, shrinking into an obscure corner of the hall, was my Cure
d'Ars, as I call him. He now came forward to say good night, his thin
face wreathed in smiles, and his two hands stretched out in
thankfulness.

"Good night, Father Dan, and a thousand thanks. I never spent a
pleasanter evening. What fine young fellows! So clever, so jolly, and
so edifying! Won't it be a satisfaction for us when we are going to
leave behind us such splendid safeguards of the faith?"

His curate was waiting respectfully. He now got the little man into his
great-coat, and buttoned it from collar to boot, the latter murmuring
his thanks all the time:--

"Dear me! dear me! what a trouble I am! Many thanks! Many thanks! There,
now I am all right!"

Then his muffler was wrapped carefully around his neck by this big
grenadier, and his gloves were drawn over his hands.

"Dear me! dear me! how good! how kind! I'm a regular mummy! a real
Egyptian mummy, Father Dan! Good night! good night! Dear me, what a
pleasant gathering!"

And the stalwart curate lifted him on his car, as if he were an infant.