“Yes,” said I, “but I soon left off.”
“And became a minister,” said the elder female, “Well, your honour is not the first indifferent tinker that’s turned out a shining minister.”
“Why do you think me a minister?”
“Because your honour has the very look and voice of one. Oh, it was kind in your honour to come to us here in the Sabbath evening, in order that you might bring us God.”
“What do you mean by bringing you God?” said I.
“Talking to us about good things, sir, and instructing us out of the Holy Book.”
“I am no minister,” said I.
“Then you are a priest; I am sure you are either a minister or a priest; and now that I look on you, sir, I think you look more like a priest than a minister. Yes, I see you are a priest. Oh, your Reverence, give us God! Pull out the crucifix from your bosom, and let us kiss the face of God!”
“Of what religion are you?” said I.
“Catholics, your Reverence, Catholics are we all.”