rmit me to
say to you as pastor, what I have already hinted to himself, that your
most excellent curate will involve himself in a great deal of trouble
and possible expense if he perseveres in that matter of the
fishing-boat. Indeed, I have been working the matter for him, because
his heart is set on it; but I have misgivings. I'm not sure that I am
quite right in mentioning the matter to you, sir; but I am really
anxious, and I speak from long experience."

He lighted another cigar at the door, and I returned to think somewhat
anxiously whether I had done credit to Catholic philosophy. But my
thoughts would revert to these last words of Ormsby's. What if Father
Letheby should get into a bad mess, and everything so promising? How
little these young men reflect what a trouble they are to their old
pastors!

CHAPTER XIX

LITERARY ATTEMPTS

I broke Captain Ormsby's advice to Father Letheby as gently as I could;
and I flatter myself I have the talent of putting things in as
roundabout a way as any professional diplomat. He took it badly. He is
clearly overworking himself, for he now becomes irritable on the
slightest provocation.

"Blocked everywhere!" he said, walking up and down his little room.
"Father Dan, you are right; and I am a fool. There is no use attempting
to do any good in Ireland."

Now, this was not exactly the conclusion I wanted him to come to; but we
have a national failing of generalizing from rather minute particulars.

"I'm not so sure of that," I said. "I think you have a fair share of
work to do here, and that you have done it and are doing it remarkably
well."

Absurd! There was not half enough to do to satisfy his Napoleonic
ambition. Nothing but the Vicariate of the whole of the Dark Continent
for this young man.

"Look here, Father Dan. My parochial work is over every day at four
o'clock; and you have taught me to finish the Office, even by
anticipation, before dinner. Now, what on earth is a young fellow to do
between four o'clock of a winter's evening and ten o'clock, when he
retires? Once in a month I dine at Campion's; but the rest of the time,
except when I run up to you--"

"And you don't come half enough, you, sir," I said. "I never saw
anything like the--pride of young fellows nowadays."

"That's all right, Father Dan," he replied, somewhat more calmly; "but
even with all your kindness, what in the world am I to do with my
leisure time?"

"Read, and read, and read