would neither pay priest nor pastor. They were infidels.

"A bad people, an accursed people!" he repeated. "I have not had my dues
for ten years as I ought. I send my agent to collect; and as soon as he
appears, every family that is of the religion turns heretic. Not a child
can sign the sign of the Cross, not though I baptized every one of them.
All the men belong to the church of Pastor Gentinetta, and can repeat
his catechism."

The priest paused and shook his head.

"A bad people! a bad people!" he said over and over again. Then he
smiled, with some sense of the humour of the thing.

"But there are many ways with bad people," he said; "for when my good
friend, Pastor Gentinetta, collects his stipend, and the blue envelopes
of the Church are sent round, what a conversion ensues to Holy Church!
Lo, there is a crucifix in every house in Spellino, save in one or two
of the very faithful, who are so poor that they have nothing to give.
Each child blesses himself as he goes in. Each _bambino_ has the picture
of its patron saint swung about its neck. The men are out at the
_festa_, the women not home from confession, and there is not a _soldo_
for priest or pastor in all this evil village of Spellino!"

Father Philip paused to chuckle in some admiration at such abounding
cleverness in his parish.

"How then do you live, either of you?" I asked, for the matter was
certainly curious.