himself to the worst, felt his heart expand. He answered severely, and with his eyes cast down: "You can change, my son, you can change."
"That's why I am here, Don Rocco," said the other. "I want to make confession. Now, at once," he added when he saw that the priest remained silent.
Don Rocco began to wink and to squirm somewhat.
"Very well," said he, still with his eyes cast down. "We can talk about it now. but the confession can come later. You can return for it to-morrow. It requires a little preparation. And it must be seen whether you have received proper instruction."
The Moro immediately fired off, with all placidity and sweetness, three or four sacrilegious oaths against God and the sacraments, as if he were reciting an Ave, and drew the conclusion that he knew as much about it as a member of the clergy.
"There, there, you see!" said Don Rocco, squirming more than ever. "You are beginning badly, my son. You want to confess, and you blaspheme!"
"Oh, you must n't notice little things like that," answered the Moro. "I assure you that the Lord does n't bother about it. It is a habit, so to speak, of the tongue, nothing more."
"Beastly habits, beastly habits," pronounced
