“And the anti-friars.”
“I told you so. The Jesuits are ruining the country, they’re corrupting the youth, but they are tolerated because they trace a few scrawls on a piece of paper when there is an earthquake.”
“And God knows how they are made!”
“Yes, but don’t contradict them. When everything is shaking and moving about, who draws diagrams? Nothing, Padre Secchi—”[3]
And they smiled with sovereign disdain.
“But what about the weather forecasts and the typhoons?” asked another ironically. “Aren’t they divine?”
“Any fisherman foretells them!”
“When he who governs is a fool—tell me how your head is and I’ll tell you how your foot is! But you’ll see if the friends favor one another. The newspapers very nearly ask a miter for Padre Salvi.”
“He’s going to get it! He’ll lick it right up!”
“Do you think so?”