h love to-ward him.

Of the file-leader in the second company of His Majesty's Grenadiers
there was nothing left but the height and the uncouth feet and paws.

His sentiments were mild and kind. He forgave all who had in former
days led him as-tray into temp-ta-tion, he forgave his parents and
relatives and neighbors for having doubted him, he forgave the Bridge
Farmer for having ut-ter-ed angry words to him, and he forgave
everybody everything.

And he looked down with compassion and mercy on those sons of men who
did not stand so close to the throne of God as he.

During the week preceding the first mass he paced from house to house
and blessed all the people; the Bridge Farmer among them, who from that
hour was unshaken in the belief that he was now square with our Lord
God in the matter of that lightning-rod oath.

The first mass was celebrated with rare splendor; folks came from far
and wide, for the blessing of a newly consecrated priest has especial
power, and an old proverb says it is worth wearing out a pair of
shoe-soles to get it.

The festival sermon was preached by the Very Reverend Joseph Shoebower,
who had for years been Councillor for Spiritual Affairs and Papal
Prelate.

He informed the awe-struck congregation into what a high, exalted,
holy, incomparably holy, incomparably blessed calling the young priest
was entering, and praised him in the most extravagant terms.

For you must know that Jesus Christ never was so praised on earth as a
four-square young licentiate is praised nowadays.

After the spiritual feast came the secular one in the tavern, and no
one can hope to imagine the magnificence of it.

Two oxen, three cows, a steer, eighteen calves, and twenty swine had
been slaughtered by the host; and in addition countless geese,
chickens, and ducks had to lose their lives. Two thousand gallons of
beer were drunk, almost nine hundred more than the host had figured.

When the dishes were passed around to take up offerings during the
festival dinner, the gifts flowed in so copiously that two thousand
marks were left over for the licentiate.

It was an elevating occasion.

The people of Eynhofen thought the newly consecrated priest would board
the very next ship and go off to the wild Hindians. Old Mrs. Fottner
shed tears in advance, and all over the village they were telling tales
of the dangers the missionaries had to undergo among the cannibals, who
are wont to take such a martyr, stic