Page:Colas breugnon.djvu/78

64 head, another sticks his head itself under his arm, like a hat. Then there is his saintship who goes about with his skin in his hand, and worst of all here in this Church is your own particular St. Simon Stylites, who stood for forty years on top of a pillar on one leg, for all the world like a crane."

"Hold up there!" cried Chamaille, jumping from his seat. "Say what you please about the other saints, they are no affair of mine, but here in St. Simon's own house, the least we can do is to be civil to him."

"Well, as I am your guest, I will leave your old crane in peace on his pedestal, but how about the Abbot of Cortigny who has the Blessed Virgin's milk in a bottle, and Count Sermizelles who took powdered relics and washed them down with holy water when he happened to need medicine?"

"You might do the same thing under the same circumstances," said Chamaille, "for all that you laugh at it now,—but as for the Abbot of Cortigny, or any other monk, they would sell angel's milk or archangel's cream, if they thought they could get our customers away from us: we are like cat and dog; their very name is an abomination to me!"