A MIRACLE.

Temuka Leader, Issue 2552, 7 September 1893, Page 3

A MIRACLE.

A stoi/ was some time ago told in the Spectator of an Irish Roman Catholic curate of excellent character but weak intellect, who was suspended because of a mental incapacity from the exercise of his office. As he had no means and was a man of very genererous disposition he was generally penniless. While in this state of chronic impecuniosity, he was invited to stay with a brother priest, and got up one morning to have a strol 1 before breakfast. On the road near the presbjtery he met a widow with a troop of small children who in pious and pathetic language asked his charity. “ Do, yer Riveruce, for the hanour of God and the Blexed Virgin, do give us a little hand-reach, for we’re starving wid the hunger.” “My poor woman, I’m sorry to refine you, but, if you only knew it, I’m as bare as yourself,” said the good priest. But these denials, however true, are never accepted as true in Ireland, and the appeal was renewed. “ Do, Father dear, try in yer pocket for wan little sixpence.” Instinctively the priest plunged his hand into his trousers pocket, whence to his great amazement, he pulled out a half Lovereign. “ Glory be to God an’ the Vargin?” cried the mendicant: a meracle, a raeracle, Father! The piece of gold was handed over to her, and the donor hurried back to the presbytery. He found his host still asleep, in the condition of the sluggard —“ As the door on its hinges, so he on his bed, Turns his side and his shoulders and his heavy head. ” “ Wake up, wake up, Father Tom, till you hear about the miracle !” At length a drowsy, uncurious voice replied —“A miracle ! What miracle, what miracle?” But as the tale unfolded itself the interest of the listener visibly increased, until, at last, the truth having dawned on him, he sat up in bed and exclaimed —“ Well, I’m blessed if the poor innocent hasn’t put on my trousers by mistake, and given the bucangh my half-sovereign!”