The record-union., 1898-02-13

walls hidden by books from floor to
ceiling. On the table stood plate OF
cold porridge and quaint, tall glass
of milk set out daintily with fine
| white napkin and an old silver spoon. .
and this ! mention, since later + found
that a mixture Of simplicity with
touches of dainfiness We're Characters
tic of Father Munro. These things ne
looked at whimsically for an instant.
first at them. then at me, and making
an excuse left the room Presently
he came back triumphant, a bottle Of
wine in one hand and plate of cheese
in the other, and. setting them down
and paying no heed to my remon-
stranceS went off again to fetch III
more.
Pm hungry and can't set alone" was
all he said, when things were arranged
to his satisfaction; after which. pour
ing out wine for me, he said short
Latin grace, and attacked his porridge
with vigor and decision, beaming upon
me when 1 showed good appetite, but
taking none of his good things for lis~n-
self
After supper, however, he allowed
himself a pipe: while i, at his invita-
ton, lit a cigarette, and he started 20
chat. OF the actual talk little or moth
ing is worth repeating. l recall 1T only
because while l watched and listenei
he showed so clearly what manner OF
man he was.
His demeanor was courtesy itself, yet
peremptory matching we'll with the
fine, closely cropped head, the benign
ant face. and strong, firm jaw dis
Itinguished. almost foreign politeness or
namented his soldierly speech just as a
damascening of gold will ornament a
good steel blade. l was sure he had
lived abroad; / should not have been
! surprised to hear that he had seen mill
tary service, and in my own mind l
then and there dubbed him The Little
General One thing marked him off
distinctly from the military types
am accustomed to; he seemed to have
no practical respect for the law, as of
general application and that showed
itself in the one speech which I think
worth repeating.
Speaking of the way in which. he had
marched in upon Ould Tim, l suggested
that he ran more risk than was neces-
sary. At this Father Munro cooked Il
clear gray eye at me, and asked what
| would have had him do.
The law | said, 'and the police are
for such people, are they not, and for
such times? Do 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 protect the
weak and the defenseless, is it not? !
was there and you,e sir"-with polite
little bow. "They are my parishioners,
and accept me as their Judge, yes, and
their executioner on occasion. Boastful-
ness is unbecoming in an old man; but
at one time. sir, some said l could use
raper and claymore a bit, and my
hand can guard my head yet when /
carry my pastoral staff"
He nodded, twinkling quantity toward
. a corner Of the room, and looking there
l saw a stout blackthorn.
DO you think l go about among my
poor children with the law at my
back?' he asked, seeming almost hurt
at the notion.
Il noticed that the law evidently
thought youNcould take care of your
self" l said, remembering the two po-
licemen, and this seemed to please
|
me that the police We're his very good
friends, some of them his parishioners,
too and then turned the conversation.
chatting to me about books and my own
work until | got up hurriedly, with an
apology for having been led to forget
the time.
i must be In your parish, too SIR"
told him. "and If a hereto is allowed 20
in,
too busy, or to hope for pastoral Wis
itation, | wish you would add my name
to your list
The little man, rising alertly to let ne
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 ola
mans society won't trouble you you
shall see me UP your stairs ere Ions. y
and he bade ne GOOD night
After that began to see Father Num-
ro often, and to hear of him still often
er. 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 very different footing. Even the
McCarthys grew friendly and nothins
pleased Young Tim better than to yarn
away about the little priests doings.
He told me of the waking of Mcclure.
of the great Orange fight, and of many
other matters, in all of which Father
Munro was the hero.
Faith, he's mani" Young Tim
would say at last, in way that made
me think he placed that same man
above the most of the saints.
One thing. however, Father Munro
could not do with Young Tim or Ould
Tim. He could not stop their whisky
drinking. Ould Tim would keep it off
for Saturday maybe two. but rarely
three. The longer he was sober the
longe. and fiercer would be the bout
that followed, and the worse for poo,
old Kathleen. AS for Young Tim. he
drank much less but a much smaller
quantity put him in the fighting mood
He never struck his wife and he tried
to avoid Ould Tim: but when they mcs.
both in their cups. then and there was
a battle royal.
Ihus things We're, when one summer
Saturday evening, a year after my first
meeting with Father Munro. l passed
into the court as Ould Tim came stag
gering out. At the foot of his stair We're
some angry women, who, after he had
reeled by, screamed their abuse at him.
Up stairs / could hear Kathleen moan
ing. and / was told that the beating had
been much worse than usual so that
just before Ould Tim had left her, one
neighbor had gone off for Young Tim
and another for Father Munro.
l ran up the stairs and found the