I would have rather chosen to cut my own tongue than to tell him to his face who it was. I, therefore, kept silent for a while, but my silence made him very nervous, and almost angry. With a haughty tone of voice, he said: "what priest did you take the liberty of thus mocking, my boy?" I saw that I had to answer. Happily his haughtiness had made me bolder and firmer; I said: "sir, you are the priest whom I mocked!"
"But how many times did you take upon you to mock me, my boy?" asked he angrily.
"I tried to find out the number of times, but I never could."
"You must tell me how many times, for to mock one's own priest is a great sin."
"It is impossible for me to give you the number of times," I answered.
"Well, my child, I will help your memory by asking you questions. Tell me the truth. Do you think you mocked me ten times?"
"A great many times more," I answered.
"Have you mocked me fifty times?"
"Oh! many more still!"
"A hundred times?"