The record-union., 1896-10-11


and this mention, since later found
that mixture of simplicity with
touches of daintiness were character
isuc OF Father Munro. These things
he looked at whimsically for an instant,
nrst at them, then at me, and. making
an excuse, left the room. Presently he
came back triumphant, a bottle of wine
III one hand and a plate of cheese in
the other, and, setting them down and
paying no heed to my remonstrance.
went on again to fetch In more.
| I'm hungry, and can't eat alone"
was all he said, when things were ar
ranged to his satisfaction; after which,
| pouring out wine for me, he said a
snort Latin grace, and attacked his
porrtdge with vigOr and decision, beam
ing upon me when 1 showed a good ap-
petite. but taking none of his good
things for himself.
| After supper, however, he allowed
himself pipe; while 1, at his invita-
ton, lit cigarette and he started to
chat. or the actual talk little or moth
ing Is worth repeating. / recall 1t only
because while I watched and listened
he showed so clearly what manner of
man he was
HIS demeanOr was courtesy itself,
yet peremptory, matching well with the
flne. closely cropped head, the benig-
nant face, and strong, firm jaw.
distinguished, almost foreign politeness
ornamented his sOldierly speech just
as damascening of gold will ornament
a good steel blade. / was sure he had
lived abroad; / should not have been
surprised to hear that he had seen mil
ltary service, and in my own mind
then and there dubbed him The Little
General" One thing marked him off
distinctly from the military types l am
accustomed to; he seemed to have no
practical respect for the law, as of gen.
eral application, and that showed it
self In the one speech which I think
worth repeating.
Speaking of the way in which he
had marched in upon Ould Tim, I sug
gested that he ran more risk than was
necessary. At this Father Munro
cooked a clear gray eye at me, and
asked what would have him do.
The law 1 said, land the police
are for such people. are they not, and
for such times? Did you need to run
the risk of meeting a mad drunkard,
and possibly others behind him, when
the police were almost at the door?"
But Father Munro was indignant.
''The law, sir! the law! Risk! and
the police. The law is meant to pro-
tect the weak and defenseless is it not
l was there, and you, sir'-with po-
lite little bow. They are my parish
iohers, and accept me as their Judge,
yes, and their eNecutioner on occasion.
| RCastfulness Is unbecoming in an old
man; but at one time, sir, some said
could use rapier and claymore bit, and
my hand can guard my head yet when
l carry my professional staff
He nodded, twinkling quantity toward
a CORNER of the room, and looking there
l saw stout blackthorn.
DO you think l go about among nv
poor children with the law at my back ?"
1< asked, seeming almost hurt at the
notion.
Il noticed that the law evidently
thought you could take care of your
self" / said, remembering the two po-
| licemen, and this seemed to please
Father Munro. He laughed, and told
me that the police were his very good
friends, some of them his parishioners,
too, and then turned the conversation
cha tting to me about books and my own
wcrk until / got up hurriedly, with an
apology for having been led to forget
the time.
Il must be In your parish, too. sir"
told him, 'and if hereto is allowed to
come in now and then when you're not
too busy, or to hope for a pastoral visit
alton, l wish you would add my name to
your list"
The little man, rising alertly to see me
out, looked keenly into my eyes for a
second, and then held out his hand.
These doors are open to you, my son.
whenever you choose and if an old
mans society won't trouble you, you
shall see me up your stairs before
lerg"; and ne bade me goodnight
After that l began to see Father
Munro often. and to hear of him still
oftener. Every one who knew him had
| a good word for him, and after having
been seen once or twice in his company
l met the Irish among my neighbors on
a very different footing. Even the
McCarthys grew friendly, and nothing
pleased Young Tim better than to yarn
away about the little priests doings He
tCld me Of the waking Of Mcclure, of the
great Orange fight, and of many other
rne tiers, IN all of which Father Munro
| was the hero.
Faith, he's man, Young Tim
would say at last. in way that made
me think he placed that same man
above most saints.
One thing, however, Father Munro
could not do with either Young Tim or
Ould Tim. He could not stop their
| whisky drinking. Ould Tim would
keep off it for Saturday, maybe even
two. but rarely three. The longer he
was sober, the longer and fiercer would
be the bout that followed, and the worse
for poor old Kathleen. AS for Young
Tim, he drank much less. but much
smaller quantity put him in the fight
ing mood He never struck his wife, and
he tried to avoid Ould Tim; but when
they met, both in their cups, then and
there was battle royal.
Thus things were, when one summer
Saturday evening. year after my first
meeting with Father Munro. I passed
into the court as Ould Tim came stag
gering out At the foot Of the stairs
We're some angry women, who after he
had reeled by, screamed their abuse at
him. Upstairs l could hear Kathleen
moaning, and I was told that the beat
ing had been much worse than usual SO
bad that, just before Ould Tim had left
her, one neighbor had gone for Young
Tim and another for Father Munro.
/ ran up the stairs, and found the
woman badly bruised. but nothing more.
and then, on my way to the infirmary.
saw Young Tim hurrying away toward
the wynd, stick in hand. A little farther
on 1 met the woman who had gone for
Father Munro. His reverence was
out" she said, "and wouldn't be in for