The Catholic World
Chapter 369 : "That is true, sister," answered the boy, giving, with all his little might,

"That is true, sister," answered the boy, giving, with all his little might, a blow to the a.s.s upon which his father had placed him, a blow of which, fortunately, the patient creature took not the least notice.

Six years had pa.s.sed since the occurrence of the sorrowful events we have related. To make the remembrance of them still more sorrowful, the unhappy Marcela, who witnessed from her hiding-place the insult to her {661} father, the terrible vengeance taken by her brother, and the flight of the latter, had gone mad.

No tidings of Ventura had ever been received, and all believed that he was dead. Notwithstanding, in their tenderness for Elvira and their friends.h.i.+p for Pedro, the others spoke to them in the words of a hope which did not exist in their own hearts.

Time, the great dissolvent, in which joys and griefs alike are lost--as in water disappear both the sugar and the salt--had made those memories, if not less bitter, at least more endurable. Only from Pedro's lips, instead of his lively songs and habitual jokes, was often heard, "My poor son! my poor daughter!"

Elvira, alone, was excepted from this influence of time. She was wasting in silence, like those light clouds in the sky, which, instead of falling to the earth in noisy torrents, rise softly and gradually until they are lost from sight. She never complained, nor did the name of Ventura, of him upon whom she had looked as the companion the church would give her, pa.s.s her lips.

"A worm is gnawing at her heart," said Anna to her son; "the rest do not see it, but it is not hidden from me."

"But, mother," he answered, "where do you see it? She complains perhaps?"

"No, my son, no: but, Perico, a mother hears the voice of the dumb daughter," replied Anna with sadness.

Rita and Perico were happy, because Perico, with his loving heart, his sweet temper, and his conciliatory character, made the happiness of both. A year after their marriage, Rita had given birth to twins. On that occasion, she was at death's door, and owed her life to the tender care of her husband and his family. She remained for a long time feeble and ailing, but at the moment in which we take up the thread of our story, she was entirely restored, and the roses of youth and health bloomed more brightly than ever upon her countenance.

When they were reunited that evening, Maria exclaimed: "Blessed mother, what a fearful storm we had last night! I was so frightened that my very bed shook with me! I recalled all my sins and confessed them to G.o.d. I prayed so much that I think I must have awakened all the saints: and I prayed loud, for I have always heard say that the lightning loses its power from where the voice of praying reaches. To the Moors! To the Moors! I said to the tempest, go to the Moors, that they may be converted and tremble at the wrath of G.o.d! Not until day-break, when I saw the rainbow, was I consoled: for it is the sign G.o.d gives to man that he will not punish the world with another flood.

Why do men not fear when they see these warnings of G.o.d!"

"And why would you have them tremble, mother, for a thing which is natural," said Rita.

"Natural!" retorted Maria. "Perhaps you will also tell me that pestilence and war are natural! Do you know what the lightning is? For I heard a farmer say that it is a fragment of the air set on fire by the wrath of G.o.d. And where does not the air enter? And where is the place the wrath of G.o.d does not reach? And the thunder--the thunder, said a certain preacher, is the voice of G.o.d in his magnificence; and that G.o.d is to be feared above all when it thunders."

"The rain has been welcome, Mamma Maria, for the ground is thirsty,"

said Perico.

"The ground is always thirsty," observed Rita, "as thirsty as a sot."

"Father," said Angela, "hear what I sung to-day when I saw the pewets running to the pools," and the little girl began to sing:

"Open your windows, G.o.d of Christians!

Let the rain come down, See the Blessed Virgin comes riding From the inn of the little town; Riding a horse of snowy whiteness.

Over the fields so brown, Lighting all the fields with the brightness Of the glory which s.h.i.+nes around.

Blessing the fields, the fields of the king: Ring from the big church, let all the bells ring!"

{662}

Angel, not wis.h.i.+ng to let his sister, who was the brighter of the two, gain the palm--instantly said: "And I, father, sung:

'Rain, my G.o.d, I ask it from my heart.

Have pity on me, For I am little, and I ask for bread.'"

"Enough, enough," cried Rita, "you are as noisy as two cicadas, and more tiresome than frogs."

"May we play a game, mother?" said the boy.

"Play with the cat's tail," responded Rita.

"Mamma Maria," said the girl, "I will say the catechism to you, if you will tell us a story. Now hear me: 'The enemies of the soul are three, the devil, the world, and the flesh.'"

"I like that enemy," said the boy.

"Hush, little one; it don't mean the flesh in the stew."

"What then?" asked the boy.

"Learn the words now," answered his grandmother, "and when you know more, apply what you have learned. For the present, I will tell you that your flesh, that is to say, your appet.i.te, tempts you to be so gluttonous, and that gluttony is a mortal sin."

"They are seven," said the girl quickly, and recited them.

"I, Mamma Maria," said Angel, "know the Three Persons, the Father who is G.o.d, the Son who is G.o.d, and the Holy Ghost, who is a dove."

"How stupid you are!" exclaimed his mother.

"Daughter," remarked Maria, "no one is born instructed. Child," she continued, "the Dove is a symbol, the Holy Spirit is G.o.d, the same as the Father and the Son."

Each child pulling at its grandmother as it spoke:

"I know the commandments of G.o.d," said one.

"And I, those of the church," said the other.

"I the sacraments."

"And I the gifts of the Holy Spirit."

"I--"

"Enough, and too much," exclaimed Rita; "you are going to say the whole catechism; or perhaps this is an infant school! What a pleasant diversion!"

"Is it possible," said Maria, grieved, for she had been in her glory listening to the children, "is it possible, Rita, that you do not love to hear the word of G.o.d, and that it does not delight you in the mouths of your children? I remember how I cried for joy, the first time you said the whole of Our Father."

"That is so," said Rita; "you are capable of crying at a fandango."

The poor mother did not answer; but, turning to the children, said: "I am so pleased with you because you know the catechism so well, that I am going to tell you the prettiest story I know."

The children seated themselves on a low bench in front of their grandmother, who began her story thus:

"When the angel warned the holy patriarch Joseph to flee into Egypt, the saint got his little a.s.s and set the mother and child upon it.

Then they started on their journey through woods and briery fields.

Once, when they were in the thickest part of a forest, the lady was afraid because the way was so dark and lonesome. By and by they came to a cave. Out of it ran a band of robbers and surrounded the holy family. When the mother and child were going to get down from the a.s.s, the captain of the band, whose name was Demas, looked at the child; as he looked, his heart smote him, and he turned to his companions and said: 'Whoever touches as much as a thread of this lady's garment will have me to do with,' and then he said to the holy pair: 'The night is coming on stormy; follow me, and I will shelter you.' They went with the robber, and he gave them to eat and drink, and the holy pair accepted what he offered them, for G.o.d himself receives the wors.h.i.+p of all the bad as well as {663} the good. And for this reason, children, never cease to pray, even though you should be in mortal sin; for this robber, when at last he was taken and condemned to die, found repentance and pardon on the cross itself, which served him for expiation, as it served our Lord for sacrifice. He was converted and was the first of all to enter into glory, as Christ promised him when he was dying for him." Meantime, the wind howled without in prolonged gusts. The doors shook, moved by an invisible hand. The old orange-tree murmured in the court, as if remonstrating with the wind for disturbing its calm.

"Listen," said Perico, "the very nettles will be swept from the ground."

"And how it rains!" added Pedro. "The clouds are torn to bits. The river is going to overflow the fields."

"Did you see how the clouds ran this afternoon?" said Angela to her brother. "They looked like greyhounds."