io8 WHA T I HAVE SEEN WHILE FISHING 



for the sale of the best that loving fingers could 

 produce to aid in paying off the debt incurred 

 in building the imposing Catholic Church in which 

 they worship. 



What might not the ladies of your party have 

 purchased ; and what a delight to show the lovely 

 Irish embroideries and lace to their friends at 

 home ! 



Those who love a mild gamble by which a 

 good cause may benefit, conjointly with themselves, 

 would have had a rare chance of winning prizes 

 contributed by numerous notabilities, His Holiness 

 the Pope heading the list. 



A lady in charge of a stall of Irish needlework 

 sent me 100 lottery tickets, and as I was not in 

 need of 100 prizes, I sold tickets to friends, some 

 of whom were very lucky. I wished to help the 

 Irish lady who desired to be helpful to her Church. 

 Should we not wish well to all religions that leave 

 us a little humanity, and teach us to play the game 

 and tell the truth ? 



I am not a Roman Catholic ; I am supposed 

 to be a severe West Country Nonconformist. 

 How saintly, how severe on the most trifling fault 

 the extra-quality Dissenter can be ! And how 

 exacting that loud-proclaiming mahogany collecting- 

 box was, sometimes by its silence ! It was most 

 ingeniously constructed with a sounding-board that 

 told what each one's offering was to listening neigh- 

 bours. I had often spent my Saturday's money 



