"Have a segar, Mr. Steck." "Thank you, Mr. Allen, I am glad to see you at home on a week day, it is so seldom you take a holiday." "Holidays are not for men with a family to support; you may thank your stars, you are a bachelor." "That sounds as though you think I have a great share of leisure time. Well, I acknowledge my duties in this village are not very onerous, still I find enough to do. By the way, I have just been to see Miss Ogden. It is wonderful how the poor girl clings to life. As I left her house, I met Amy and Bolax, the dear children asked so kindly after the dying girl, but Bo—now don't be offended Mr. Allen, I have always taken a great interest in that boy having known him from a baby; he is wonderfully bright, makes such witty remarks," "and does such tormenting mischief at times," interrupted Mr. Allen. "Well," continued Mr. Steck, "When I told the children how ill Miss Ogden was, Bo gave me this medal of St. Benedict, telling me to put it on the poor girl's neck, and she would be sure to get well. I asked who told him that? Then Amy looked at me so earnestly and said: 'Oh, Saint Benedict can cure anybody. You know he was a great doctor when he was on earth, and he was so good our Lord gave him power to cure people who wear his medal.' 'Yes, and he cured Nannie,' said Bo, 'see I have the medal on her yet;' and lifting a daisy chain he showed me the medal on the goat's neck." "Ha! ha! ha!" laughed Mr. Allen, "that's so like Bolax, he is a mixture of imp and angel."
"Now my friend," continued Mr. Steck, "allow me to ask you, who have been brought up an Episcopalian, if you approve of such superstitions? I did not suppose that educated Romanists entered into ridiculous practices of this sort; putting faith in—well, I might as well say it: Idols!" "—Hold on, Mr. Steck, I am not versed in the theology of the Catholic Church, and do not try to account for a great many little customs such as my little ones spoke about, but I'll venture to assert they do not injure the souls or bodies of those who believe in them. My wife never bothers me about her religion, never enters into controversy, although I have a notion, that on the sly, she is praying me into it."
"And from what you say," remarked Mr. Steck, "I think her prayers are being heard. I don't object to the Catholic religion; I think many of its doctrines are good and sound, but it would be more edifying to the general run of Christians, if there were not so many superstitious practices allowed." "Come, now Mr. Steck do not condemn what you do not understand. I travel a great deal as you know, and often attend churches of different denominations; but whenever I try to get an explanation of their various beliefs, one and all answer me somewhat in this manner: 'Well, I don't believe thus and so;' 'I don't approve of this or that doctrine,' etc. I never can get any of them to say right out what they do believe. One point only do they all agree upon and that is, condemnation of the Roman Catholic Church." Opening a memorandum book, Mr. Allen took out a paper saying, "here is a hymn which I heard sung in a Campbellite Sunday School:
"Come to me my little Children,
Sing and raise your voices high;
Sing of Jesus, not of Mary,
Nor other popish patron saints;
They can neither save nor help us,
Nor attend to our Complaints;
Tell your little popish neighbors
How to Jesus they may go
If they wish to get to Heaven,
They must worship Him alone."
"Very poor verse, but I copied it from one of the Hymn Books. Now, what can be gained by teaching children such absurdities? If you were intimately acquainted with Catholic little ones, you would find they bring Jesus into their daily lives more than do those who are taught to ridicule them."
"Oh," said Mr. Steck, "I admit there are many ignorant preachers out West, who think they honor God by abusing the Catholic religion, but you never hear me or Mr. Patton make use of an uncharitable word in connection with any one religion."
"Mr. Steck let me tell you that even the children of illiterate parents, who are practical Catholics, you will find able to answer questions about their religion, and keep Jesus in their thoughts. Just to give you an example: yesterday my wife went over to Miss Scrips and found her tying up a rosebush in the garden, the cook's little boy, about seven years old, held the branch for her, while doing this, he uttered a cry of pain, tears came into his eyes, but checking himself, he said: "Oh, if one thorn hurts so much how dreadful He must have suffered with His head all covered with thorns. Poor Jesus!"
"Indeed," said Mr. Steck, "that was extraordinary. He must be an exceptional boy. Such a child will die young, or be a great preacher some day." "Well, I just tell this one instance," replied Mr. Allen, "to let you see the impression made on the heart of Catholic children by constantly keeping before them incidents in the life of Christ.
"Papa! Papa!" was heard in the distance. Mr. Allen got up saying: "That sounds like Bolax." Going to the gate he saw a crowd of youngsters following Bo, who was vainly trying to catch the goat. Nan was tearing down the road with Roy, Buz and Don his pet dogs, in full chase after her. It was too funny to see Nan turn on the dogs, stand on hind legs and with a loud Ma-a-a! start off again.