To-night you see me mixin' me toddy without th' shadow iv
remorse about me. I'm proud iv it. An' why not? I was histin' in me
first wan whin th' soggarth come down fr'm a sick call, an' looked in
at me. 'In Lent?' he says, half-laughin' out in thim quare eyes iv
his. 'Yes,' said I. 'Well,' he says, 'I'm not authorized to say this
be th' propaganda,' he says, 'an' 'tis no part iv th' directions f'r
Lent,' he says; 'but,' he says, 'I'll tell ye this, Martin,' he says,
'that they'se more ways than wan iv keepin' th' season,' he says.
'I've knowed thim that starved th' stomach to feast th' evil temper,'
he says. 'They'se a little priest down be th' Ninth Ward that niver
was known to keep a fast day; but Lent or Christmas tide, day in an'
day out, he goes to th' hospital where they put th' people that has
th' small-pox. Starvation don't always mean salvation. If it did,' he
says, 'they'd have to insure th' pavemint in wan place, an' they'd
be money to burn in another. Not,' he says, 'that I want ye to
undherstand that I look kindly on th' sin iv'--
"''Tis a cold night out,' says I.
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