E. Mayan
 The clergy who ran this small church took an unfavorable view of drunken bums lying on the wooden benches before the altar, especially Maurice, who had a bad reputation for vandalism when he was in his cups. The Abbe Pontefet, who hated my son, usually ordered a couple of novitiates to throw him out on the street, using whatever force was required. Sergeant Gay told me that these novitiates were pretty tough guys, not easily intimidated, handling their fists as well as anybody. Once, he said, when he was on his way to Saint Pierre to pick Maurice up, his tenant came flying out of the front door, just as he arrived there, ending head over heels in the gutter, where he lay staring at the sky, pondering his next move. As he bent down to assist Maurice, the door of Saint-Pierre opened again, and one of the novitiates threw Maurice's coat at them. "If we see him again," the cleric shouted, "we'll break his bloody neck!" Having gotten this off his chest, he turned back into the church slamming the door behind him. "He's forgotten Christ's charity to the oppressed," Sergeant Gay told me, "I'll remember that when they ask me for money!" Then he winked, smiling broadly, saying, "I wouldn't give the sweat off my ass to those characters!" |
 Sacre Coeur
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Child of the Montmartre