No escapade enters his head but he hastens to carry it out, and he swears like a pagan even in full sacristy, under the very noses of the beneficiaries.

Don't dare to deny it! Grumbler!" [Footnote 1: Canon in charge of the fabric.] And he shook his first at the lad, half severely, half smiling, as though in the bottom of his heart he felt some pride in his nephew's scrapes, who received his reprimand with grimaces that made his face twitch like that of a monkey, while his eyes retained their fixed and insolent stare.
"It is a real shame," continued the uncle, "that you should comb your hair in that fashion, like the Merry Andrews that come to Toledo from the Court on great festivals.

In the good old times of the Cathedral they would have shaved your head for you.

But in these days of alienation, of universal licence and misfortunes, our holy church is as poor as a rat, and poverty does not give the senores canons much inclination to examine details.

It is a grievous pity to see how everything is going down.