ing over my Latin translation before
posting it. I'm afraid the ideas that I submitted to the consideration
of His Holiness have been degraded by my very poor Latin. I should have
wished Father Meehan to overlook my Latin, but he refused. He begged of
me not to send the letter."

"Father Meehan," said his Grace, "is a great friend of yours. Yet
nothing he could say could shake your resolution to write to Rome?"

"Nothing," said Father MacTurnan. "The call I received was too distinct
and too clear for me to hesitate."

"Tell me about this call."

Father MacTurnan told the Bishop that the poor man had come out of the
work-house because he wanted to be married, and that Mike Mulhare would
not give him his daughter until he had earned the price of a pig. "And
as I was talking to him I heard my conscience say, 'No man can afford
to marry in Ireland but the clergy.' We all live better than our
parishioners."

And then, forgetting the Bishop, and talking as if he were alone with
his God, he described how the conviction had taken possession of
him--that Ireland would become a Protestant country if the Catholic
emigration did not cease. And he told how this conviction had left him
little peace until he had written his letter.

The priest talked on until he was interrupted by Father Moran.

"I have some business to transact with Father Moran now," the Bishop
said, "but you must stay to dinner. You have walked a long way, and you
are tired and hungry."

"But, your Grace, if I don't start now, I shall not get home until
nightfall."

"A car will take you back, Father MacTurnan. I will see to that. I must
have some exact information about your poor people. We must do
something for them."

Father MacTurnan and the Bishop were talking together when the car came
to take Father MacTurnan home, and the Bishop said:--

"Father MacTurnan, you have borne the loneliness of your parish a long
while."

"Loneliness is only a matter of habit. I think, your Grace, I'm better
suited to the place than I am for any other. I don't wish any change,
if your Grace is satisfied with me."

"No one will look after the poor people better than yourself, Father
MacTurnan. But," he said, "it seems to me there is one thing we have
forgotten. You haven't told me if you succeeded in getting the money to
buy the pig."

Father MacTurnan grew very red.... "I had forgotten it. The relief
works--"

"It's not too late. Here's five pounds, and this w