o' his school!"

"I guess that's all," said Barber, quietly. "I'll ask y' t' cut it."

"I'll cut nothin'!" cried the priest. "These five years ye've been
waitin' for a man t' come and tell ye the truth. Well, I'm only what's
left o' a man, but the truth is on me tongue! And it's comin' off, Tom
Barber,--it's comin' off! Shut up another lad like ye've shut him,
thrash him, and half starve him in his mind and his body, and see what
ye'd get! Ye'd get an idiot, that's what ye'd get! The average lad
couldn't stand it! Not the way this boy has! Because why? I'll tell ye:
ye've made his home a prison, and ye've dressed him like a beggar, but
ye've never been able t' keep his brain and his soul from growin'! Ye've
never been able t' lock _them_ up! Nor dress them badly! And God be
thanked for it!"

"A-a-a-w!" snarled Barber. "I wish all _I_ had t' do was t' go from flat
t' flat and talk sermons!"

"Ye wish that, do ye?" cried the Father, rumpling his red hair from the
back of his neck upward. "Well, shure, ye don't know what ye're talkin'
about! For there isn't annything harder than talkin' t' folks that
haven't the sense or the decency t' do what's right. And also--no rascal
pines t' be watched!"

Barber stared. "What's y're grudge?" he demanded.

"A grudge is what I've got!" replied Father Pat. "It's the kind I hold
against anny man who mistreats children! And while I live and draw
breath, which won't be long, I'll fight that kind o' a man whenever I
meet him! And I'll charge him with his sin, so help me God, before the
very bar o' Heaven!"

Big Tom shrugged. "Y' ain't a well man," he said; "and then again, y'
happen t' be a priest. For both which reasons I don't want no trouble
with y'. So I'll be obliged if y'll hire a hall, or find somebody else
t' scold, and let up on me for a change. This is Sunday, and I'd like a
little rest."

Father Pat went a foot nearer to the longshoreman. "Because I'm a
priest," he answered, "I'll not be neglectin' me duty. Ye can drive away
scoutmasters, and others that don't feel they've got a right t' tell ye
the truth in yer own house, but"--he tapped his chest--"here's one man
ye _won't_ drive away!"

Big Tom reached for his pipe and his hat. "Well, stay then!" he
returned.

"Stay? That I will!" cried the Father. "The lad and the girl, they've
got a friend that's goin' t' stick as long as his lungs'll let him."

"Good!" mocked the longshoreman. "Fine!" He pushed his hat down ov