I was very much astonished for he had on a common suit with a
red necktie. I then knew he was in trouble somewhere. He told me he
had no money. I told him he was welcome to stay as long as he wished.
I gathered up some clean garments and did for him all I could. I felt
glad to have this catholic priest in my house. I resolved to ask him
concerning their faith. He was one of the saddest man I ever saw and it
made my heart ache to see him. I knew so well what it was to have "a heart
bowed down with grief and woe," and I saw in this poor creature desolation.
I asked him if he should die, what sin he would have to repent of.
He said: "I may have sinned in trying to fix up a home for poor priests
who come into disfavor with the bishops." His words were: "There is
no one so helpless as a catholic priest sent adrift. A boy ten years old
knows as well how to make a living for himself. I have been from a boy,
in a Jesuit College, St. John's, near New York. You do not know the
sorrows of a catholic priest. Few know that so many priests are dying from
heart disease. I am trying to get to San Antonio, for a priest there may
help me some." He stayed at the hotel five days. One evening he came in
the parlor where there was quite a company, and I was astonished to see
him so changed. He was no longer the shrinking, crest-fallen man, but he
seemed bright and joined in conversation; sang and played on the piano.
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