Surely My Words Were To Him An Idle Tale - He
Knew Them Not.
After cautioning me not to repeat the offence, he gave
me my liberty, but requested me to leave the town.
Rev. F. Penzotti,
of the B. & F. B. Society, was imprisoned in a dungeon for eight long
months, so I was grateful for deliverance.
An acquaintance who was eye-witness to the scene, though himself not
a Christian, tells the following sad story:
"Away near the foot of the great Andes, nestling quietly in a fertile
valley, shut away, one would think, from all the world beyond, lay
the village of E - -. The inhabitants were a quiet, home-loving
people, who took life as they found it, and as long as they had food
for their mouths and clothes for their backs, cared little for
anything else. One matter, however, had for some little time been
troubling them, viz., the confession of their sins to a priest. After
due consideration, it was decided to ask Father A., living some
seventeen leagues distant, to state the lowest sum for which he would
come to receive their confessions. 'One hundred dollars,' he replied,
'is the lowest I can accept, and as soon as you send it I will come.'
"After a great effort, for they were very poor, forty dollars was
raised amongst them, and word was sent to Father A. that they could
not possibly collect any more. Would he take pity on them and accept
that sum?
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