Frightened by a toad! Blood of the Martyrs! 'T is like any foolish girl!" Father Pedro stopped and coughed.
"I am saying that no Christian child should shrink from any of God's harmless creatures.

And only last week thou wast disdainful of poor Murieta's pig, forgetting that San Antonio himself did elect one his faithful companion, even in glory." "Yes, but it was so fat, and so uncleanly, holy father," replied the young acolyte, "and it smelt so." "Smelt so ?" echoed the father doubtfully.

"Have a care, child, that this is not luxuriousness of the senses.

I have noticed of late you gather over-much of roses and syringa, excellent in their way and in moderation, but still not to be compared with the flower of Holy Church, the lily." "But lilies don't look well on the refectory table, and against the adobe wall," returned the acolyte, with a pout of a spoilt child; "and surely the flowers cannot help being sweet, any more than myrrh or incense.

And I am not frightened of the heathen Americanos either, _now_.