l and, taking up
St. Orberosia's shrine, led it in procession through the town, followed
by the entire people singing hymns. The holy patron of Penguinia was not
invoked in vain. Nevertheless, the Porpoises besieged the town both by
land and sea, took it by assault, and for three days and three nights
killed, plundered, violated, and burned, with all the indifference that
habit produces.

Our astonishment cannot be too great at the fact that, during those iron
ages, the faith was preserved intact among the Penguins. The splendour
of the truth in those times illumined all souls that had not been
corrupted by sophisms. This is the explanation of the unity of belief.
A constant practice of the Church doubtless contributed also to
maintain this happy communion of the faithful--every Penguin who thought
differently from the others was immediately burned at the stake.

IV. LETTERS: JOHANNES TALPA

During the minority of King Gun, Johannes Talpa, in the monastery of
Beargarden, where at the age of fourteen he had made his profession
and from which he never departed for a single day throughout his life,
composed his celebrated Latin chronicle in twelve books called "De
Gestis Penguinorum."

The monastery of Beargarden lifts its high walls on the summit of an
inaccessible peak. One sees around it only the blue tops of mountains,
divided by the clouds.

When he began to write his "Gesta Penguinorum," Johannes Talpa was
already old. The good monk has taken care to tell us this in his book:
"My head has long since lost," he says, "its adornment of fair hair,
and my scalp resembles those convex mirrors of metal which the Penguin
ladies consult with so much care and zeal. My stature, naturally small,
has with years become diminished and bent. My white beard gives warmth
to my breast."

With a charming simplicity, Talpa informs us of certain circumstances in
his life and some features in his character. "Descended," he tells us,
"from a noble family, and destined from childhood for the ecclesiastical
state, I was taught grammar and music. I learnt to read under the
guidance of a master who was called Amicus, and who would have been
better named Inimicus. As I did not easily attain to a knowledge of
my letters, he beat me violently with rods so that I can say that he
printed the alphabet in strokes upon my back."

In another passage Talpa confesses his natural inclination towards
pleasure. These are his expressive words: