"Father Brachet, and Father Wills, and Brother Paul, and Brother Etienne, all here." The native put two fingers on the floor. "Big white cross in middle"—he laid down his pipe to personate the cross—"here"—indicating the other side—"here Mother Aloysius and the Sisters."
"I thought," says Mac, "we'd be hearing of a convent convenient."
"Me help Father Brachet," observed Nicholas proudly. "Me show him boys how make traps, show him girls how make mucklucks." "What!" gasps the horrified Mac, "Father Brachet has got a family?"
"Famly?" inquired Nicholas. "Kaiomi"; and he shook his head uncertainly.
"You say Father Brachet has got boys, and"—as though this were a yet deeper brand of iniquity—"girls?"
Nicholas, though greatly mystified, nodded firmly.
"I suppose he thinks away off up here nobody will ever know. Oh, these Jesuits!"
"How many children has this shameless priest?"
"Father Brachet, him got seventeen boys, and—me no savvy how much girl—twelve girl ... twenty girl ..."
The Boy, who had been splitting with inward laughter, exploded at this juncture.