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They looked at each other for a moment, smiled, made some signals, and again crossed themselves. "Jesús! It was like a thanksgiving mass," said Sister Rufa. "Since the time that Bálat sacked the town I have never seen a night like it," replied Sister Puté. "What a lot of shots! They say that it was old Pablo's gang." "Tulisanes? It couldn't be.
This is the only occurrence of which I am aware in any of the Islands, included in the limits I have prescribed for myself; but Mr. Harvie Brown has recorded two seen by him near Grève de Lecq, in Jersey, in January. See 'Zoologist' for 1869, p. 1561. It is not included in Professor Ansted's list, and there is no specimen in the Museum. WHITETHROAT. Sylvia rufa, Boddaert.
"He didn't go into the confessional this morning," added Sister Sipa, a toothless old woman. "I wanted to confess myself so as to receive communion and get the indulgences." "Well, I'm sorry for you," commented a young woman with a frank face. "This week I earned three plenary indulgences and dedicated them to the soul of my husband." "Badly done, Sister Juana," said the offended Rufa.
"What are you saying, Capitana Maria!" exclaimed the first, clasping her hands. "It pleases me to see a son defend the memory of his parents, Capitana Tinay. What would you say if some day when you were a widow you heard your husband spoken ill of and your son Antonio should hang his head and remain silent?" "I would deny him my blessing!" exclaimed a third, Sister Rufa, "but "
"Pish!" answered the man with a gesture of proud disdain. "I have them to throw away!" "But in that I can't commend you, sir," protested Rufa. "You'll go to purgatory for wasting the indulgences. You know very well that for every idle word one must suffer forty days in fire, according to the curate; for every span of thread uselessly wasted, sixty days; and for every drop of water spilled, twenty.
In the house opposite, another window was now timidly opened to reveal Sister Rufa, she who did not wish to cheat or be cheated. They stared at each other for a moment, smiled, made some signs, and again crossed themselves. "Jesús, it seemed like a thanksgiving mass, regular fireworks!" commented Sister Rufa.
"But suppose the plate is only broken into two or three pieces, then you earn very few," observed the obstinate Rufa. "Abá!" answered old Sipa. "I make them recite the prayers anyhow. Then I glue the pieces together again and so lose nothing." Sister Rufa had no more objections left. "Allow me to ask about a doubt of mine," said young Juana timidly.
"It seems to me that you don't love your children as God commands," said Sister Rufa in a rather severe tone. "Pardon me, every mother loves her sons in her own way. One mother loves them for her own sake and another loves them for their sake. I am one of the latter, for my husband has so taught me."
"But those indulgences are earned by the servants and not by you, Sister Sipa," objected Rufa. "And my cups and plates, who pays for them? The servants are glad to pay for them in that way and it suits me also. I never resort to blows, only sometimes a pinch, or a whack on the head." "I'm going to do as you do!" "I'll do the same!" "And I!" exclaimed the women.
"More than I? More than six hundred and eighty-nine plenary indulgences or nine hundred ninety-four thousand eight hundred and fifty-six years?" queried Rufa, somewhat disgruntled. "That's it, eight indulgences and a hundred fifteen years more and a few months over," answered the man, from whose neck hung soiled scapularies and rosaries.
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