he is
not singular, it is comfortable to feel that one thinks as one's
neighbours think."

I said: "Thou art a happy man, Poins, to think as other men think."

"I do not know anyone called Poins," said Joe, "it is not a Sicilian
name; but to think as other men think is as comfortable as a crown of
martyrdom, and if it can be won without any martyrdom worth speaking
of--why, so much the better."

I agreed, and went on: "And then there are the men who never think of
religion or theology, but go to Mass to please their wives."

"Plenty of them," he said, "and by pleasing their wives they reap the
reward of avoiding domestic friction, whereby they perform a miracle
greater than removing Etna."

I thought of my poor mother who used to say:

"But, my dear, if you never go to church what hold have you over the
servants?"

At the time, I remember, I pigeon-holed her problem among others that are
still awaiting solution, and she died before I realised how well she had
translated into the language of modern Bayswater the "Paris vaut bien une
Messe" of Henri Quatre.

"If you want to see faith," said Peppino Di Gregorio, "why don't you stay
and go to the festa of S. Alfio at Trecastagne? You might even see a
miracle there."

It seems that when anyone is in hospital with a broken leg after an
accident or suffering from any illness, especially hernia, he cries in
his despair, making use of this form:

"O, S. Alfio! cure me of this illness, restore my broken leg or cure my
hernia" (or as may be) "and for the love of my wife, of my children, of
my mother" (or as may be) "I will run naked to Trecastagne and light a
candle before your shrine."

After making this vow, the patient recovers and then he must not fail.
With any other saint there may be failure, but not with S. Alfio, for he
is more powerful than the Madonna or than the Padre Eterno or than the
Redeemer. He is the Padrone and performs miracles.

"But how long should I have to stay? When is this festa?"

It would not be till the 10th of May, nearly six weeks ahead, and that
made it a matter requiring consideration and, as it was now half-past
seven and dark, we had to leave off talking and start for the lava.

Those of our friends who had made the excursion before were delightful as
company, but we hardly wanted them as guides, because the way was shown
by hundreds of people who were returning, many of them carrying torches,
and we only had to walk in the