"Like last year's," answered the agent. "I worked like two men, and I
pushed the mills hard to make that large profit. I saw there was
trouble coming, and I told the directors and asked for a special
surplus, but I had no idea of anything like this."
"Nine per cent. in these times was too good a prize," said Father
Daley, but the twinkle in his eyes had suddenly disappeared.
"You won't get your new church for a long time yet," said the agent.
"No, no," said the old man impatiently. "I have kept the foundations
going as well as I could, and the talk, for their own sakes. It gives
them something to think about. I took the money they gave me in
collections and let them have it back again for work. 'Tis well to
lead their minds," and he gave a quick glance at the agent. "'Tis no
pride of mine for church-building and no good credit with the bishop
I'm after. Young men can be satisfied with those things, not an old
priest like me that prays to be a father to his people."
Father Daley spoke as man speaks to man, straight out of an honest
heart.
"I see many things now that I used to be blind about long ago," he
said. "You may take a man who comes over, him and his wife. They fall
upon good wages and their heads are turned with joy. They've been
hungry for generations back and they've always seen those above them
who dressed fine and lived soft, and they want a taste of luxury too;
they're bound to satisfy themselves. So they'll spend and spend and
have beefsteak for dinner every day just because they never had enough
before, but they'd turn into wild beasts of selfishness, most of 'em,
if they had no check.
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