tercede with God the Father that he may grant me a good husband, like
your own.'

"This prayer, which was suppressed by the clergy of the district, is sold
by him privately, and is said to be very efficacious for those who recite
it with unction.

"In fact he talks of the good Virgin as the valet de chambre of a
redoubted prince might talk of his master who confided in him all his
little private secrets. He knows a number of amusing anecdotes at his
expense which he tells confidentially among friends as they sit over
their glasses.

"But you will see for yourself.

"As the fees coming from the Virgin did not appear sufficient to him, he
added to the main figure a little business in saints. He has them all, or
nearly all. There was not room enough in the chapel, so he stored them in
the wood-shed and brings them forth as soon as the faithful ask for them.
He carved these little wooden statues himself--they are comical in
the extreme--and painted them all bright green one year when they
were painting his house. You know that saints cure diseases, but each
saint has his specialty, and you must not confound them or make any
blunders. They are as jealous of each other as mountebanks.

"In order that they may make no mistake, the old women come and consult
Matthew.

"'For diseases of the ear which saint is the best?'

"'Why, Saint Osyme is good and Saint Pamphilius is not bad.' But that is
not all.

"As Matthew has some time to spare, he drinks; but he drinks like a
professional, with conviction, so much so that he is intoxicated
regularly every evening. He is drunk, but he is aware of it. He is so
well aware of it that he notices each day his exact degree of
intoxication. That is his chief occupation; the chapel is a secondary
matter.

"And he has invented--listen and catch on--he has invented the
'Saoulometre.'

"There is no such instrument, but Matthew's observations are as precise
as those of a mathematician. You may hear him repeating incessantly:
'Since Monday I have had more than forty-five,' or else 'I was between
fifty-two and fifty-eight,' or else 'I had at least sixty-six to
seventy,' or 'Hullo, cheat, I thought I was in the fifties and here I
find I had had seventy-five!'

"He never makes a mistake.

"He declares that he never reached his limit, but as he acknowledges that
his observations cease to be exact when he has passed ninety, one cannot
depend absolutely on the truth of that statement.