‘It’s the truth,’ retorted the terrible child. ‘Shall I say I love them?’
‘No. Listen to me. There are good people and bad people all over the world. So there are good and bad priests, but I think there are many more good ones than bad ones. You would not hate a good priest, would you?’
‘N—no,’ answered Leone, rather doubtfully.
‘Then leave the bad ones to take care of themselves, and don’t think about them. Do you suppose I hate you when you are naughty and break things in a rage and try to beat the servants? It’s the naughtiness I hate. It’s not you.’
‘It feels just the same,’ observed the small boy, with great logic.
‘But it’s not,’ answered his mother, trying to keep from laughing. ‘And when you are bigger you will understand that one should not hate bad men, but the badness in them.’
‘Well, that’s better than nothing! Then I hate the badness in your priest, who made you cry, and I’d like to hammer it out of him!’
Maria was at the end of her arguments.
‘He meant well,’ she said weakly. ‘I’m sure he meant well.’