glowing with the noble innocence and simplicity of a good boyhood, he looked like a young arch-*angel."
"And yourself, Holy Father?" asked Fifi.
"Ah, I was very unlike Barnabas. I was but an ordinary-looking boy, and I often fell asleep while I was sitting by the priest during the sermon, and in full view of the congregation. We had a worthy old priest, who would let me sleep during the sermon, but would pinch me smartly to wake me up when it was over and it was time again to go on the altar. So I devised a way to keep myself awake. I hid a picture book in the sleeve of my cassock, and during the sermon, while the priest who was on the altar had his eyes fixed on the one who was preaching in the pulpit, I slipped out my picture book, and began to look at it stealthily,—but not so stealthily that the priest did not see me, and, quietly reaching over, took it out of my hand and put it in the pocket of his cassock. I plotted revenge, however. Presently, when the priest went up on the altar and is forbidden to leave it, he turned and motioned to me for the water, which it was my duty to have ready. I whispered to him, 'Give me my picture book, and
