Young Telesphore's depravities supplied this household with its only domestic tragedy.

To satisfy her own mind and give him a proper conviction of besetting sin his mother had fashioned for herself a most involved kind of polytheism, had peopled the world with evil spirits and good who influenced him alternately to err or to repent.

The bay had come to regard himself as a mere battleground where devils who were very sly, and angels of excellent purpose but little experience, waged endless unequal warfare.
Gloomily would he mutter before the empty preserve jar:--"It was the Demon of gluttony who tempted me." Returning from some escapade with torn and muddy clothes he would anticipate reproach with his explanation:--"The Demon of disobedience lured me into that.

Beyond doubt it was he." With the same breath asserting indignation at being so misled, and protesting the blamelessness of his intentions.
"But he must not be allowed to come back, eh, mother! He must not be allowed to come back, this bad spirit.

I will take father's gun and I will shoot him ..." "You cannot shoot devils with a gun," objected his mother.