LE LONG DU SENTIER 



and mutely, reverently, join with us in 

 that approach. 



Over against this I ^et a page from a 

 travel note-book. 



Palm Sunday in St. Peter's "0, say, there 

 he is! I've lost him three times," and with a 

 scarce subdued view-halloo, she lopes through the 

 crowd before the high altar, while the great 

 music of the Passion, sweeping down from the 

 choir, tears at the heart. 



A ragged country lad gray with dust, as is the 

 branch of olive he carries, looks after herewith 

 wide eyes. 



A sweet-faced nun, under a cap that spreads 

 like a seagull's spotless opened wings, flushes 

 with distress. Can she find excuse in her gentle 

 mind, for the girl who thinks alone of the spec- 

 tacle, and her friend ? 



The old priest, in threadbare soutane, whispers 

 to his neighbour : ' ' She forgets that this is to us 

 a holy place, and the very House of God. ' ' 



A German delivers himself slowly, impassively, 

 to his English companion : 



"Curious beoble! Now zat young lady who 

 gafe ze exhibition is probably a modest und 

 devout girl in her own country, but she beliefs 

 in ze tribal God of ze Americans, und zat she is 

 now oud of his jurisdiction." 



Those who have been educated to be- 

 lieve that a too-unquestioning obedience 



243 



