Capuchin they turn their back on him.

"Oh! Oh!" said my father, bursting out laughing, "the back of a
Nymph is still too good for a Capuchin."

And being in a good humour, he sent a mighty slice of the pie to the
little friar.

My mother placed the roast in the middle of the table, and took
advantage of it to ask if the Salamanders are good Christians, of
which she had her doubts, as she had never heard that the
inhabitants of fire praised the Lord.

"Madam," replied my teacher, "several theologians of the Society of
Jesus have recognised the existence of a people of incubus and
succubus who are not properly demons, because they do not let
themselves be routed by an aspersion of holy water and who do not
belong to the Church Triumphant; glorified spirits would never have
attempted, as has been the case at Perouse, to seduce the wife of a
baker. But if you wish for my opinion, they are rather the dirty
imaginations of a sneak than the views of a doctor.

"You must hate and bewail that sons of the Church, born in light,
could conceive of the world and of God a less sublime idea than that
formed by a Plato or a Cicero in the night of ignorance and of
paganism. God is less absent, I dare say, from the Dream of Scipio
than from those black tractates of demonology the authors of which
call themselves Christians and Catholics."

"Sir," replied the priest, "I found a very old MS. of Cicero spoke