(Continued.)
"Pray, Michael, and do not give up hope."
"All right, Sister. I'm not afraid. And if I do sufferkate don't you be worried about it at all,"
So I began to pray. I made an Act of Contrition as well as I could, in case Father Dale was too late. I could hear the sisters saying the Rosary. I heerd a man's voice; it might be Father Dale, or it might be old Toby Ryan- I could not hear properly. I was just going to cornmense to shout out my sins. After all, what did it matter if the whole Communitee of nuns heerd them, or old Toby :Ryan either? They'll hear them on the Last Day. It seemed to be my last day on this earth, too. The sweat was poring down my face I must have been about to lose conshisnis. I remember thinking: "I'll never get to St. Columban's; I'll never see China." I said a prayer, and gave one trimendis riggle like a bow-constricter. I felt I was free!
I could heer someone in the lawndree tapping the bords. I felt pretty winded, but I began to riggle towards the eggs. I dragged the hat full of eggs.
"I'm free, Sister! I'm coming out!" I yelled.
"Thank God," called the Sisters, and went on praying-I suppose in thanksgiving for my diliverence. It seemed a long time crawling towards the light near the steps. It reminded me of a picture I once saw of men lost in the desert-Forin Leegin men.
At last I had crawled across the dredful desert and imerged near the steps.
"Here I am, Sister-and here are the eggs!" I called out like a hero.
I pushed the eggs out; then I tried to stand up. It was great seeing the light and feeling the cool air and seeing all the Sisters with their rosaries in their hands thanking Our Lady that poor old Mickie Daly was not sufferkated under the Convent Lawndree. I wished that Miss Mack Stinger could have seen them. She would know, then, that some people do not look on me as a menis and a lepper.
Well, I tried to stand up, but I was so cramped after being stuck under the lawndree that my knees would not straiten, and down I came –bang!-kneeling, in the hat full of eggs! Every jolly one broke! None of t hem were bad, forchinately.
The Sisters had to laugh! And no wunder! What a site I must have been- red in the face, with patches of black from the dust, spider webs all over me-and now, the eggs !
Just then Father Dale came, running across the school-yard from the presbytery, with Dan, the presbytery man, at his heels. Father Dale had a very serius, alarmed look on his face, but when he saw me he laughed. "Is it you, Michael Daly, bringing a man from his prayers? I was saying my Office when someone rang to say there was a boy sufferkating under the Convent Lawndree. If I had known it was you, I'd have stayed where I was-for I know you could get out of anything. There you are-praying is it? With a hat full of eggs for a cushin."
I got up all shaky.
"I'm sorry, Father," I said . "But I told Sister I wanted to make my last confession."
"You needn't make it now, Mick. You'll live to be ninety. Pick him up, Dan, and carry him over to the presbytery and we'll give him a hot bath."
"I can walk, thank you, Father," I said, but my knees did feel a bit wobbly when I stood up. "Pick him up, Dan," Father Dale said.
So Dan picked me up and carried me over to the presbytery.
I had a hot bath. and then I was rapped up in a big towel and put into bed-the bed in the Visiting Priest's Room. The housekeeper brought me hot milk and biskits, and Father Dale came in and sat beside me for awhile and talked to me, a.nd said he would ring my father that I was safe and would be home some hours later. I could not go out in the air for awhile after the hot bath. The housekeeper. very kindly sponged my clothes and pressed them. I had a good sleep.
When I was fit to travil I got dressed and Father Dale rapped me in a great big coat of his and drove me home.
Some of the kids saw me, and stared as if I were the Pope come to visit Father Dale.
But not Dacey. He saw the car, and knew it. He took off his hat to Father Dale, but when he saw who was sitting beside Father Dale he put his hat on again, and put his tong out at me. I'll remember that for him.
So I am still alive.
No ill erfects followed as my father said .
Thursday.
And now Dacey goes and says that I said Father Dale is my cousin. Just becos I was taken to the Presbytery and put in the Visitors' Room. I did not say it at all I wish it were true. I'd rather have a priest for a cousin than anyone else-better than Don Bradmiln , or a millyinare or a chamyin boxer, or a great writer or an aveeater or anyone in the world.
When Father Owe Leery was here it was he who said it-and he was joking. He said Dale was not an Irishman's name. He said it should be Daly with an "e"-Daley. He said that when Father Dale's grandfather was being christened, away over in Ireland, the priest was writing on the end of the line; and he could not fit the "y"; so he just left Dale. And they were called Dales from that day to this. He said I was Father Dale's cousin. He said, too, that he knew another Irish family named Clear (but you pronounce it Clare), and they got their name cut short, too. There was no room for the "y." They should be Cleary. Father Owe Leery said it was bad times in Ireland, and they had to do things quickly for fear of the soldiers coming in on them. I think it was all a joke like the Cork legs.
Now Dacey brings this all up on me, and said I am skiting that Father Dale is my cousin and that I am skiting because I had a sleep in the visiting priest's bed. He said, too, that I owe Sister Zeeter 13 eggs. He said I was a big mug to get stuck: that Sister should have got a sensible boy like him to go under the lawndree. I tried to have payshince with him,
Friday.
Freddie Croft is beehaving very well. Sister Pawl has him bluffed, She has mezmerized him all right, He stares at her and cannot look away. He'll learn plenty now, becos he never misses a word she says. I watch him and miss a lot that she says. But I can't help it. He has me mezmerized. I think if Sister said: "Go up on the school roof Fred Croft and make the sign of the Cross and jump Off." I bet he would do it and not get hurt, either.
He finds the catickism pretty stiff. I help him and explane the big words. I'm pretty good on explaneing words, but not on spelling them.
Saturday.
I have found out something about going to Mass. I think Dickie has found it out, too.
The more often you go to Mass the shorter the time of Mass seems.
I used think it was along time in the Church, but now I don't. I used yorn and ftdgit and feel tired I thought I was tired; I was only lazy I used lean back against the seat until I was in the shape of an Z. I used look about the church and count the crosses in the railing round the sanctuary and count the vases.
On Sundays I was not so bad, for we sang hymns. But on week-days I thought I was a hero if I went to Mass--instead of being glad to be able to go. I used say a bit of a prayer when the bells rang, and read a bit of my prayer book. But I must confess that most of the time I looked about and counted things and did not really try to follow the Mass, to be interested in it. And I thought the time was so long and my knees get sore. I was just lazy and too stupid to know the least bit about the importance of the Mass, I am glad to say it is different with me now. Sister Allerwishes has been instructing us about the Mass every day. No matter what chapter of catickism we are at, or what Bible Histery, Sister gives us a few minutes about the Mass.
We understand better now, and we can assist better and the time seems so short. I don't count anything now, and I kneel up properly and watch the altar. (Dickie usint fidgit much at any time.)
Sister says it is a great pity that Catholic people do not give more thought to what Mass is. Many people cannot go to daily Mass; but many could. Sister said every family should be represented. So I go to repreesent the Dalys. Sometimes my mother is able to come with me.
Sister told us, that long ago in the erly days of t he Church, the pagans who were being instructed, but who were not yet baptised, used be sent out of the church before the solemn part of the Mass. Now, I feel sure that I should have been chased out of the church myself, when I used yorn and fidgit and count things. I am ashamed to think of it. I am sure there are people worse than the pagins in the church- I was one myself. I told Sister. She said no one in the world is really fit to be present at Mass, but that we must go in all humility to become better. Even people in mortil sin are urged to go. Being present will help them to repent. So I was sorry 1 passed remarks about people in t he church being worse than pagins--altho 1 owned up I was worse than one myself.
Sister said we are to try to remember that Father Dale takes Our Lord's place at the altar. Sometimes I can I can close my eyes and think it is Our Lord moving about the altar; and I think I can see Him holding up the chalice. Then when I open my eyes, I see Father Dale, and he looks beautiful to me, as if He and Our Lord were the one priest I can't explain it.
Munday.
I think I had better write and tell Father Mullany to take my name off the waiting list at St. Columban's. I have corsed skandle and confewzgin in the school again. It's a wunder that Sister Pawl doesn't expel me.
Anyhow, why does the old Greek have his shop near the school? And why is he such an old nark? He simply makes boys want to get him wild. He asks for it. He hates boys. still, I know I should not have insighted him to anger and to a desire to murder.
He has a fish shop near the school. It is an old building. It youst be a cottage. There's a little verandah and a room called the oister erloon. There are little tables in it and little gongs for the custimers to ring. On our way home sometimes, if there are no custimers in the serloon, we cut in and ring a gong. When the old Greek gets out we are all running down the ,street. He 'swears in Greek at us. I know they must be Greek swear words. I'm sure he does not say pieces out of the fillosifer's book-old Arrah Stottle's book.
Now it is wicked to anger people. I know it is. And a forin man might murder you when he gets wild. Then, I suppose, you would really be guilty of the murder yourself, for making him do it. You would be your own murderer!
Now, a boy who intends going to St. Columban's should not go in for such behavure. A boy who intends being a forin mishiner should have simpathy for a forin man. The Greeks are not pagans-they are Christians, but asmaticks or some-thing. I forget the word, but I know what it means. It means they do not obey the Pope. Well, I must confess I had given up teasing the Greek for a good while. In fairness to me, Michael Joseph Daly, I must say I often resisted the temptashin and often indewst the other boys to come a way and leave the old nark in peace, You see we were O Kayzgins of sin to the Greek-making him angry and making him wish to murder us. And then the swears. His swears must be terrible. I can tell swears in seven langwidges. It's easy. I bet when I go to China, the very first day I land, if a Chinaman swears at me, I'll know.
You can tell by the tone of the voice and by the eyes and the horrible look of the mouth-like the devil's.
We were going home to our lunch-Dickie, Dacey, Croftie and me. When we reached the Greek's shop we saw him inside-like a big whale amongst all his fish. Think he was going to swallow the lot any minute. There was no one in the next room-the oister serloon.
"It's your turn, Daly. You haven't had a turn for a long time," Dacey said. We youst take it in turn to run in.
Now I knew I should have resisted the temptashin and set a good egzample, but I was in a silly mood. So in I ran and struck one of the little gongs. I heard old George coming and turned to run.
But Dacey closed the door and held it from the outside!
(To be continued)