d smiling face; he was
big, but not too big, and he looked the priest, the _soggarth aroon_
kind, you 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 all of his sympathy in your bit of possible
trouble, he had hundreds whose troubles had already materialized, and
was waiting for yours with a wealth of experience which would only
make his smile deeper and his grasp heartier when the task of
consoling you came to his door and heart.

Now, there lived in the same town as Father Tom another priest of
quite a different make. He, too, had a Christian name. It was Peter;
but no one ever called him Father _Peter_. Every one addressed him as
Father _Ilwin_. Somehow this designation alone fitted him. It was not
that this other priest was unkind--not at all--but it was just that in
Father Tom's town he did not quite fit.

Father Ilwin had been sent by the Bishop to build a new church, and
that on a slice of Father Tom's territory, which the Bishop lopped off
to form 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 his big heart burst out to welcome you. He was
thoughtful-looking and shy, so he did not get on well and his new
church building grew very slowly.

I have given you the characters of my little story, but, for the life
of me, I can not tell you which one is to be the hero and which the
villain--but, let that go, for I am sure of one thing at least: this
story has no villain. But it followed just as naturally as day follows
night--for which figure of speech, my thanks to Mr. Shakespeare--that
when Father Ilwin failed to do well, he grew gloomy and sad; and just
as naturally--God help us--there was enough of human nature in 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 to grip his
heart