The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, 1911-03-11


room all the walters said; "the
priest was the only occupant"
Shrieks were heard, but where they
came from they could not say. They
all averred that there was no one in
that room but the priest.
HIN the Big island.
I'm the matter of wearables,' said
Father Michael with his simple hui
NOR, next morning, II felt like holy
sandalled Franciscan without the
sandals. was bareheaded, barefoot
ed, and had barely the riding coat to
wrap about me. But fancy the way
the poor riding coat was renewed in
the fire; I wouldn't know it myself"
A friendly cleric showed him the
newspaper with the counterfeit priest.
Father Michael drew his hand two or
three times across his forehead, then
rested his face in his palms, and
copious tears streamed through his
fingers. He wept to think that such a
thing could be done, that the world
could in it's wickedness produce such
infamy. 1t was as far, poor guileless
man, from his mind as the canals in
Mars from the thoughts of a child.
1t was wicked world, and he would
have none of it. He would arise and
shake the dust from his feet against
it. oh, that he were back again in
poor old Ireland! The remembrance
of green fields flashed before his mind,
and pebbly strand and rolling waves.
The Big Island, too, and it's one want
came before him, but he shook his
head sorrowfully and mentally Ian
swered his thoughts. 1T is not Gods
will"
His friends came around MIN and
endeavored to encourage him. But
the word "Imposter" stood in letters
of fire before his imagination. They
said they would make all right and he
should go on, but he shrank from the
ordeal. They asked him to lecture.
No. he could not
Priesthood, and Ireland, and the Irish,
he ought to appear publicly and give
an explanation. But he could not be
persuaded Shrinking, shrinking in
his constituencies he but desired to flee
from wickedness, and hide himself in
the innocent glens of his island coast.
They at last talked about his
money. Alas! everything was burned
All receipts of his Judgments were in
ashes now. Several wealthy men
agreed to accompany him to the bank
and to guarantee by their security
that he was the depositor; and that
if the receipts ever turned up he
would make no strength on the claim
of them. They we're hopeful that on
these terms the bank would release
his poor gatherings. At the bank they
were told that they would willingly
release the money on these terms, but
that the Father had withdrawn all
on the previous evening.
Now, indeed, he was an impostor!
and ruined one! He groaned, and
would have fallen from bitter shame
had not his friends upheld him. He
begged to be taken out He wanted
only one thing-to know when the
next vessel sailed for Ireland
Would he have refreshments
mo"
ut is yet some days before the YES
sci leaves
"Oh, my Cod" he groaned, and
they pitied him.
They took him to hospital attend
ed by nuns. Scarcely could he be per-
suaded to taste the least portion of
food. There was talk of making up a
subscription. He answered: "No, no;
they have all been too kind to me. 1
cannot accept it. I will not accept 1t.
Some other priest may be destined to
build the church; but it is not Gods
will that l should do it. I will go
home and end my days in peace"
At parting, he insisted on the nuns
receiving for charity the few dollars
that had remained with him from the
burning. When they were refusing,
he said: 1T is not mine It was given
to me for charity. If I knew the per-
sons that gave it would give it back
again; but notebooks and everything
is lost"
His heart was breaking till he got
on board. When the American shore
withdrew from sight, then a peace
came over him. He had left, and for
ever, the land where such an abyss of
infamy ESQ the poor man in his in
nocence considered it), where such an
abyss of infamy could find a place.
And yet he had hardly got rid of one
horror, when the thought Of his
Bishop and what he would say, and
of the priests and how they would
among themselves chaff him, came to
his sensitive soul like another. Oh,
for peace! to hide his head away,
away, from mortals, and have peace.
Old hermits! what an enviable life
they had! Oh, if like them he could
find some place to hide, serve his God,
and have peace!
That he thought would have been
| the desirable ending of his davs-to