Brother Simon was assistant cook nowadays, a post he filled tolerably well under the supervision of the one-legged soldier who was cook.
"We couldn't do without oats," said Brother Birinus severely.
He spoke so seldom at these gatherings that when he did few were found to disagree with him, because they felt his words must have been deeply pondered before they were allowed utterance.
"Have you any flowers in the garden for St. Joseph?" asked Brother Raymond, who was sacristan.
"A few daffodils, that's all," Brother Giles replied.
"Oh, I don't think that St. Joseph would like daffodils," exclaimed Brother Raymond. "He's so fond of white flowers, isn't he?"
"Good gracious!" the Prior thundered. "Are we a girls' school or a company of able-bodied men?"
"Well, St. Joseph is always painted with lilies, Reverend Brother," said the sacristan, rather sulkily.
He disapproved of the way the Prior treated what he called his pet saints.
"We're not an agricultural college either," he added in an undertone to Brother Dunstan, who shook his finger and whispered "hush."