The Ways of 
 Si". AiilKany 
 
 SISTER M. JOSEPHINE 
 
The Ways of 
 St. Anthony 
 
 BY 
 
 SISTER M. JOSEPHINE 
 
 URSULIM- OF BROU N COUNTY 
 
 Published by 
 ST. ANTHONY MESSENGER 
 2526 Scioto Street 
 Cincinnati, Ohio. 
 
Nihil obstat: 
 
 Fr. Fulgentius Meyer, O. F. M., 
 
 Censor dep. 
 
 Nov. 19, 1921. 
 
 Imprimatur : 
 
 tHENRlCUS MOELLER, 
 
 Archiep. Cincinnatensis. 
 
 Cincinnati, die 22a Nov. 1921. 
 
 Imprimatur : 
 
 Fr. Edmundus Klein, O. F. M., 
 
 Min. Prov. 
 
 Cincinnati, die 22a Nov. 1921. 
 
 Copyright, 1922 
 St. Anthony Messenger 
 Cincinnati, Ohio 
 
TO MAC 
 
INDEX 
 
 PAGE 
 
 1. St. Anthony and the Crucifix 7 
 
 2. St. Anthony and the Diamond 13 
 
 3. St. Anthony as a Lawyer 17 
 
 4. St. Anthony and the Ford 23 
 
 5. St. Anthony as a Salesman 20 
 
 6. A Twice Told Tale of St. Anthony. ... 3-1 
 
 7. St. Anthony as a Detective 41 
 
 8. St. Anthony's "Little Things'' 49 
 
 9. St. Anthony and the Money in the Roof 57 
 
 10. St. Anthony at Every Turn HO 
 
 IL St. Anthony as a Specialist 73 
 
 12. St. Anthony. — a Life Saver 79 
 
 13. St. Anthony and Our Community 84 
 
SI JLint of JnCotmation 
 
 J^HE zvnter of THE WAYS OF ST, 
 ANTHONY is very much interested 
 in the education of poor young men for the 
 priesthood in the Order of St. Francis of 
 which St. Anthony was such an illustrious 
 member. 
 
 In order to ''do her share'' towards this 
 end she promised to write thirteen stories 
 about the dear Franciscan Saint for ''St. 
 Anthony Messenger' if the Editor would 
 supply the facts. Fie did and she kept her 
 promise. 
 
 The names and places in these stories 
 are fiction; the incidents, however, are 
 real. They were sent to the Editor hy 
 clients of the Saint in their accounts of 
 thanksgivings for favors received through 
 St. Anthony's intercession and for which 
 most of them had promised publication. 
 The writer has simply woven these ac- 
 counts into readable stories. 
 
 THE EDITOR. 
 
1. 
 
 &t antSong and t^t Crucifix 
 
 ^HE Five O'Clock Bell rang through 
 
 the quiet corridors and aroused the 
 sleeping inmates of the cloister. Poor 
 Sister Joachim! Poor Sister Salome! 
 They should have been up long ago, for 
 the train would steam away from the sta- 
 tion, six miles distant, in an hour, and 
 such a rush as it would mean for them 
 to make it! However, there was nothing 
 for it but to rush, for at eight o'clock the 
 children would begin to arrive and Mon- 
 day morning was a bad time to be away 
 from the post of duty. A hasty toilet; a 
 hurried breakfast; and then the restful 
 drive through the exquisite May morning 
 when God's love spoke through the waken- 
 ing world and infused a new vigor deep 
 into the soul with every breath of the fresh 
 spring air; an hour's ride in the dingy 
 train; and then the thousand and one 
 things that must be done at the last minute 
 before school. No wonder Sister Salome 
 did not miss the crucifix she wore in her 
 cincture as open sign of her sacred pro- 
 
8 
 
 The Ways of St. Anthony, 
 
 fession, the only article of real value she 
 possessed, her chief est treasure. Boys and 
 girls were in her thoughts ; and Catechism 
 and Theorems and Compositions and His- 
 tory Facts excluded anything personal for 
 hours. 
 
 But at last she missed it. The chiming 
 of the far-away clock struck her ears and 
 mechanically she felt for the sacred em- 
 blem to kiss it, only to realize with a start 
 that it was gone. Where was it.^ What 
 had she done with it.^ When had she had 
 it? One question after another passed 
 through her mind, but none could she 
 answer; and anyway the worrisome busi- 
 ness must be set aside until after school. 
 Then she could telephone home, for of 
 course, in her haste she had left it in her 
 cell. But she hadn't. No trace of the 
 precious crucifix could be found, nor could 
 an appeal to the Street Car Company, nor 
 even to the Railroad Superintendent re- 
 store the lost treasure. The latter, it is 
 true, promised to write on East for possi- 
 ble information at the Claim Office, but 
 the outcome looked rather indefinite. 
 Until now Sister Salome had worked as if 
 she were to do it all, now it was time to 
 pray as if God were to do it all ; so much 
 
St. Anthony and the Crucifix. 9 
 
 for St. Ignatius. Of course, St. Anthony 
 would find it ; he always did find things ; 
 and the more forlorn the case the more 
 sure the result. She knew that. So the 
 Responsory to St. Anthony was added to 
 the daily Mass prayers, for she would 
 make a novena to the Wonder Worker. 
 
 It w^as a very hopeful Sister Salome who 
 was called to the telephone on the sixth 
 day, only to meet with a most keen disap- 
 pointment. The answer had come from the 
 Claim Office and the crucifix was not 
 there. The Superintendent was most kind, 
 he seemed to have an intuition of the loss ; 
 but his report ended the matter, it was 
 useless to inquire further. Thursday 
 morning Sister Salome went to Mass with 
 — well, at least a discouraged heart. "Dear 
 St. Anthony," she prayed, "there's nothing 
 left now but a miracle and I ask you for 
 that," and she said the Responsory as 
 usual. 
 
 When that evening Father Lawrence, 
 the young chaplain of the Convent, called 
 her up to tell her he had good news for her, 
 she thought it was only the decision about 
 a sermon they had had difficulty in ar- 
 ranging, and was quite satisfied with his 
 
10 
 
 The Ways of St. Anthony. 
 
 assuring her he would tell her the next day. 
 She never dreamed it was St. Anthony's 
 Miracle ! 
 
 Friday morning the young priest was 
 beaming when she walked into the parlor. 
 He held a parcel towards her, "Is this 
 yours she saw the shape, took it in her 
 hand, and sat down. It was her crucifix ! 
 Where had Father Lawrence got it.^ Of 
 course, his prayers had been enlisted, for 
 wasn't St. Anthony his very own elder 
 brother.^ But how had he come by it? 
 And then Father Lawrence laughed, "Do 
 you want me to tell you?" he asked. 
 
 He had gone on Wednesday to one of 
 the suburban towns to spend the after- 
 noon at his home. During the course of 
 his visit his mother told him of the lovely 
 ride she had had on Sunday afternoon. 
 It seemed that one of her near neighbors, 
 Mr. Weston, had a matter of business to 
 attend to, and as the weather was delight- 
 ful he made of it a pleasure trip and took 
 some of his friends. Much to her surprise 
 they visited convents. Mr. Weston was 
 trying to place a crucifix and went first 
 to one religious order and then to another, 
 seeking the owner. It was a lovely after- 
 
St. Antlio)i\ and the Crucifix, 11 
 
 noon and the more places they went, the 
 longer the ride would last, so that just 
 suited everyone. But after visiting five 
 different houses in vain, Mr. Weston drew 
 a sigh of relief and in very satisfied tones 
 announced that he intended to keep the 
 crucifix himself, that he had wanted it 
 from the moment he saw it, and only the 
 thought of the owner's regret had driven 
 him to the trouble he had taken. All the 
 party agreed that the crucifix was right- 
 fully his and they all thought it a \'ery 
 pleasant ending of a very pleasant ride. 
 
 Father Lawrence listened with interest 
 to this recital, and then asked where Mr. 
 Weston had got that crucifix. 
 
 "Oh," said his mother, "some man 
 found it on the B.&O. train Monday morn- 
 ing of last week, and realizing it was 
 precious, and knowing that Air. Weston 
 was Mayor of the town, thought him the 
 proper custodian for it, until the owner 
 could be located. But now Air. Weston 
 can keep it," she finished. 
 
 "Indeed he can't," said Father Law- 
 rence. "Please send straight over to the 
 Alayor's house and bring that crucifix here. 
 I know the owner and I want to erive it to 
 her." 
 
12 The Ways of St, Anthony. 
 
 Sister Salome caught her breath. "It 
 was a miracle wasn't it? St. Anthony's 
 miracle!" 
 
 But Father Lawrence only laughed 
 again. "Write it for St. Anthony Mes- 
 senger," he said. And she did. 
 
II. 
 
 &t SLntfionii anb tje SDiamonli 
 
 IWTRS. MARSTON suddenly took her 
 -^^^ hands off the piano. She and Sister 
 Joachim were playing duos in the Library 
 while her husband performed his pro- 
 fessional duties for the nuns, and she 
 had been so intent on the music that she 
 had actually forgot for a w^hile. She 
 wouldn't have believed she could forget, 
 but in her interest her loss has slipped 
 from her mind until suddenly she caught 
 sight of her wedding ring and that re- 
 minded her. 
 
 "Oh, Sister Joachim!" she exclaimed, 
 "do you know St. Anthony.^" and the un- 
 accustomed title fell hesitatingly from her 
 lips. 
 
 Sister Joachim was amused. Of course 
 she knew St. Anthony. Every Catholic 
 did. Acquaintance with him was a sort 
 of open sesame to the broad circle of 
 hagiology; and besides who would ever 
 find all the things that were lost if it were 
 not for St. Anthony.^ 
 
 "Why, yes," she said, "I know St. An- 
 
14 
 
 The Ways of St. Anthony, 
 
 thony — that is, I love him and ask his help 
 and he is good enough to find most of the 
 things I mislay. But why do you ask?" 
 
 "Well/' sighed Mrs. Marston, "I lost 
 the diamond out of my ring, the one the 
 Doctor gave me for our engagement, and 
 I have searched the town for it and I can't 
 find it. The people over at the Inn said I 
 ought to ask St. Anthony for it. They 
 said you would tell me about him." 
 
 Sister Joachim was interested. She felt 
 bad at her guest's loss ; and besides she 
 saw her chance to introduce a new and 
 undreamed-of client to St. Anthony. 
 
 "Why, how did it happen.^" she in- 
 quired, sympathetically. 
 
 "I don't know," said Mrs. Marston, "I 
 had the ring on after supper and then later 
 when we came back from the ice cream 
 parlor the diamond was gone. That was 
 the only place I have been, that and our 
 own yard. Of course we looked for it, 
 everywhere — on the street, in the ice cream 
 place, and in our yard. Oh, I assure you 
 I haven't missed an inch. You know we 
 are just getting ready to move, and I have 
 to find it before I go !" 
 
 "Yes," said Sister Joachim, "so we'll 
 ask St. Anthony to help us." And then 
 
St. Anthony and tJie Diamond. 15 
 
 she told all about the dear Franciscan 
 Saint, whose one idea of happiness in 
 heaven seems to be to help the needy on 
 earth. 
 
 Mrs. Marston listened intently. She 
 had never given much thought to saints 
 and their ways, but now she grasped at 
 the idea of supernatural help. *^'0h, do 
 ask him/' she said, ''I will be so glad if 
 you do, for I certainly feel bad about 
 losing my precious diamond." 
 
 "Yes," went on Sister Joachim, "we 
 will ask him, and then dear Mrs. Marston, 
 when he has found it for you, you must 
 give an alms in his honor, a dollar to some 
 poor person or something like that, you 
 know. Will you promise to give it.^" 
 
 "Indeed, indeed, I will," said Mrs. 
 Marston, and in her mind's eye she al- 
 ready saw the shining stone safe back on 
 her finger again. For while she had no 
 personal experience of the assistance of 
 the saints, somehow Sister Joachim was 
 very confident, and that was most reas- 
 suring. 
 
 That evening at recreation on the lawn 
 Sister Joachim told the stor>^ of Mrs. 
 Marston's loss and asked for prayers for 
 the recovery of the stone. It really meant 
 
16 Tlie Ways of St. Anthony, 
 
 very much to her, for she somehow felt 
 responsible for its return. Of course, the 
 prayers were promised, and day by day the 
 Responsory was said, though by none 
 quite so vehemently as by herself. 
 
 A few days later vacation was over and 
 off went the Sisters to the city where 
 broomsticks and books and dusters and 
 schedules filled in the day until the classes 
 should begin. Only the nightly Respon- 
 sory went on, for Sister Joachim's faith 
 never faltered. 
 
 And one day she received a letter in a 
 strange hand-writing. "Dear Sister 
 Joachim," Mrs. Marston wrote, "I have 
 found my diamond, and in such a remark- 
 able way, too. I had almost given up hope 
 w^hen the inspiration came to me to rake 
 the yard, though I never heard of any one 
 raking a yard for a little stone like that 
 before. It sounds absurd, I know, but the 
 A ery first pull 1 gave with the rake through 
 the grass, up came my diamond. I think 
 that was miraculous." 
 
 And Sister Joachim happily thought so 
 too, and the Responsory to the Blessed St. 
 Anthony went right on, but this time it 
 was in thanksgiving. 
 
III. 
 
 "T7[7ELL/' said Sister Salome as she 
 passed Sister Joachim in the hall, 
 ^'our convent is not the only one that can 
 tell tales of St. Anthony. Read this." And 
 she handed her a letter she had just re- 
 ceived from the postman. Sister Joachim 
 slipped the large envelope into her capa- 
 cious pocket and went on about her work ; 
 but that afternoon she returned it with a 
 smile of assurance that such a story could 
 only add a new laurel to St. Anthony's 
 crown. "Write it out/' she said, "it will 
 do good." 
 
 Sister Salome pondered long and in- 
 tently over the letter. It was from the 
 Superior of a Franciscan Convent and told 
 of a most remarkable event, in which St. 
 Anthony was, of course, the hero. The 
 facts were all true; and Sister Salome 
 agreed with the Reverend Mother that 
 everyone ought to know them, so finally 
 she wrote. 
 
 Mrs. Osbourne was having a great trial. 
 Of course, it was not her first trial, fo^ ^he 
 
18 
 
 The Ways of St. Anthony, 
 
 had been serving the Heavenly King too 
 many years not to have felt His loving 
 chastisements many times ; but this was 
 the most serious that had yet befallen her. 
 Her brother-in-law was suing her, and 
 what made it worse she had no proof at 
 all that she did not owe him the money 
 he claimed. 
 
 Perhaps na mere man could ever under- 
 stand the helplessness a woman feels at 
 the sound of that direful word, the law. 
 It stands for all that is blackest in human 
 relation; and so, unjust though she knew 
 the case to be, poor Mrs. Osbourne lay 
 awake night after night tortured by the 
 fears aroused in her by sheriff's summons 
 and lawyer's briefs, and judge's verdict. 
 But all the time she prayed for she had a 
 staunch friend in heaven who before this 
 had won many a hopeless case. That 
 friend was St. Anthony. 
 
 Through the long night hours Mrs. Os- 
 bourne's wakeful mind went over and over 
 the facts. She recalled how just before 
 her husband's death — and what a good 
 honest man her husband had been! — he 
 had asked her to give a hundred dollars 
 to the very brother who was now causing 
 her such sorrow. How gladly she had 
 
St, Anthony as a Lawyer, 19 
 
 given it, without any hesitation, any de- 
 lay! So her mind went on recalling every 
 detail of the last sad days of her husband's 
 life and again she felt the blank that death 
 always leaves in its wake. 
 
 Then came the startling announcement 
 of this debt, her husband's personal note 
 for two thousand five hundred dollars. It 
 was a sum she could hardly afford to pay 
 — and again Mrs. Osbourne would fall to 
 praying. Finally in her distress she had 
 recourse to her good friends at the Fran- 
 ciscan Convent and the Reverend Mother 
 gave her a medal of St. Anthony and as- 
 sured her of the constant intercession of 
 the Sisters. 
 
 Instead of the case coming up for trial 
 on the day for which it was set, the hearing 
 was postponed several times, and each 
 time the suspense became harder to bear 
 and each time a little more of Mrs. Os- 
 bourne's courage oozed away. Finally her 
 doom was sealed. The case of Osbourne 
 vs. Osbourne was set for a certain Mon- 
 day; and it was a trembling Mrs. Os- 
 bourne who took her place in the court- 
 room, trying to smile courageously on 
 young Mr. Lawton, her anxious lawyer, 
 
20 The Ways of St. Anthony. 
 
 and clasping at the same time the precious 
 medal in her shaking hand. 
 
 With all the skill he could master, Mr. 
 Lawton could not find one shred of testi- 
 mony to offset the plaintiff's statement. 
 Mr. Osbourne said, his brother had given 
 him the note at a time when he needed 
 twenty-five hundred dollars and that his 
 witness, Mr. Venable, had been present 
 at the transfer of the money at the Phoenix 
 Hotel on the preceding September 15th. 
 Unfortunately, Mrs. Osbourne had . been 
 absent from home that day and there was 
 absolutely no proof that her husband had 
 not gone to the hotel to meet the two men. 
 
 Then the court ordered the note to be 
 produced. Once again Mrs. Osbourne 
 saw the small piece of typewritten paper 
 that had caused her such weeks of agony. 
 There it all was, a promise to pay the said 
 sum signed by her own husband in a cool 
 steady hand. The signature was his, there 
 was no doubt of it. Only John Osbourne 
 could have written it ; but every one knew 
 that on September ISth John Osbourne 
 was in no condition to go to a hotel, nor 
 could he possibly have signed his name 
 with such a steady stroke. Evidently 
 there w^as some trick in the matter ; but the 
 
St. Anthony as a Lxizvyer, 21 
 
 lawyer was at his wit's end to find it and 
 Mrs. Osbourne prayed harder than ever. 
 At last, just before the case was given to 
 the jury, as if by an inspiration, Mr. Law- 
 ton asked to have the note photographed 
 and the case was adjourned for that day. 
 
 When Mrs. Osbourne woke the next 
 morning, St. Anthony's own Tuesday, she 
 felt almost hopeless. Would the photo- 
 graph prove of any value But she felt 
 it was the very last straw and she clung 
 to it with all her soul. 
 
 After the usual formalities of court 
 routine had been complied with, Mr. Law- 
 ton produced a paper from an envelope 
 which he took from his pocket, and handed 
 it gravely to the judge. It was the photo- 
 graph of the note. The silence was intense. 
 Mrs. Osbourne leaned forward in her 
 chair and clasped her medal more closely. 
 "Now, St. Anthony," she prayed, "now, 
 Oh! help us!" Then there was a stir! 
 The photograph revealed upon examina- 
 tion another note beneath the typed one ! 
 
 What happened during the next few 
 minutes will always be more or less of a 
 blank to Mrs. Osbourne. Only by degrees 
 did the truth filter into her overwrought 
 brain. That the original writing had been 
 
22 
 
 The Ways of St. Anthony. 
 
 simply a letter of introduction given by 
 her husband to his brother and erased by 
 the latter, with the exception of the signa- 
 ture and then filled out with the promis- 
 sory note, was later made clear to her. 
 Just then she was overwhelmed with the 
 stunning fact that St. Anthony had saved 
 her, — dear St. Anthony — whose power 
 was not shortened. 
 
 "Isn't it all wonderful.?" said Sister Sa- 
 lome later, when she was discussing the 
 story with Sister Joachim. 
 
 "Why, of course not," replied the latter 
 promptly. "The trouble is, we never re- 
 member that St. Anthony is the blessed 
 Wonder- Worker, and then when he does 
 just what we ought to expect a wonder- 
 worker to do, we are very much surprised. 
 All he wants is to be asked and surely Mrs. 
 Osbourne did ask him; and besides the 
 Sisters promised to publish the favor if 
 he granted it, and how many people, who 
 never thought of it before, will know now 
 that St. Anthony is a fine lawyer." 
 
 Sister Joachim laughed. "Perhaps that 
 is why 1 wrote it," she said. 
 
IV. 
 
 "T^O you think St. Anthony could find 
 ^ an oil well on your uncle's Texas 
 land?" asked Sister Salome of Sister 
 Joachim as they were doing their Friday 
 afternoon cleaning together. "Or is it 
 only lost things he returns .f^" 
 
 Sister Joachim stopped short in amaze- 
 ment. "Well, whatever put such an idea 
 as that into your head?" she exclaimed. 
 
 "Why/' said Sister Salome, "he has been 
 finding an automobile, a lost one, I mean, 
 and I wish he would find an oil well and 
 then we could build our chapel." 
 
 "Tell me about the automobile," said 
 Sister Joachim, as she carefully shook out 
 the dust cloth and settled herself to listen. 
 
 Sister Salome, who never lost a chance 
 to exploit the wonders of St. Anthony, at 
 once began : 
 
 "I read a letter from the priest to whom 
 it happened and it is all true. He is the 
 pastor in a small Kentucky town and he 
 was very proud, rightly proud, of the 
 twenty-one young men of his parish sent 
 
24: The Ways of St. Anthony. 
 
 to keep Old Glory waving over this free 
 land of ours. So when the Fourth of July 
 came round and the patriotic citizens of 
 Wayneville, a near-by town, united to 
 serve a barbecue for the soldiers, of course 
 Father Newman went — " 
 
 "Was that his real name?" broke in 
 Sister Joachim. 
 
 "Why, no," answered her companion. 
 "I can't use any real names, and anyway, 
 real names are seldom put in stories. Well, 
 Father Newman went with Mr. Hill, a 
 friend of his, who was the proud owner 
 of an almost new Ford. The entertain- 
 ment proved to be very pleasant. Every- 
 one was in high good humor and hospi- 
 tality was lavished upon all comers. Even 
 after several hours had passed the men 
 were loath to leave; but business was 
 pressing, so about two o'clock they said 
 good-bye to their hosts and started for 
 their machine. Imagine their amazement 
 to find it gone! They searched and 
 searched the grounds, but to no avail. 
 Finally, convinced that it was lost, they 
 reported the matter to the police. 
 
 " That car is St. Anthony's particular 
 care,' said Mr. Hill. 'There are medals 
 in it of Saint Christopher, Saint Benedict 
 
Sai7it Anthony and the Ford. 
 
 25 
 
 and Saint Anthony, but Saint Anthony is 
 really responsible for its safe-keeping, as I 
 gave him the charge.' 
 
 "Father Newman began the Responsory, 
 for he, too, had a special predilection for 
 the wonder-working Saint, and neither he 
 nor Mr. Hill doubted for a minute that 
 the machine would be found. When and 
 where, of course, they could not tell ! 
 
 "Saturday morning Father Newman 
 offered his Mass in honor of Saint An- 
 thony, while on Sunday his congregation 
 was asked to pray for a special intention. 
 However, nothing developed that day; 
 and Monday passed without any news. 
 But neither Mr. Hill's confidence nor that 
 of the priest flagged in the least." 
 
 "Isn't it wonderful," said Sister Joa- 
 chim musingly, "with what confidence 
 St. Anthony inspires you.^ If you ever 
 ask him for a thing you almost forget the 
 possibility of not obtaining it." 
 
 "Well,' Mr. Hill and Father Newman 
 never considered that possibility, evi- 
 dently," answered Sister Salome; and 
 she went on with her story. 
 
 "Tuesday morning — " 
 
 "Why, Tuesday is Saint Anthony's 
 special day," interrupted Sister Joachim. 
 
26 
 
 The JVays of St. Anthony, 
 
 But Sister Salome didn't stop. "Tues- 
 day morning, after Mass, the first news 
 came by telegram. The Ford was safe and 
 awaiting its owner at police headquarters 
 in East St. Louis. Of course, the two gen- 
 tlemen were amazed and still more, of 
 course, delighted; and that night found 
 them with the officer of 'Wayneville on the 
 way to their destination, two hundred and 
 sixty-five miles distant. 
 
 "They were evidently expected in St. 
 Louis, for when the three men entered the 
 police station the next morning, they were 
 admitted to the inner office without a de- 
 mur. The Kentucky officer displayed his 
 credentials and all courtesy was shown 
 to his party by the chief and his assistants. 
 
 "After a little conversation they were 
 led to the machine in question. Sure 
 enough, it was the missing one! Great 
 was their delight and many their expres- 
 sions of gratitude to Saint Anthony; for 
 Father Newman had let slip no time ex- 
 plaining to these earthly restorers of lost 
 things the assistance they had received 
 from the heavenly one. 
 
 " Tt was remarkable/ said the officer 
 who had brought in the car. T'll admit 
 Saint Anthony's help without any ques- 
 
Saint Anthony and the Ford, 27 
 
 tion ; for while I was standing on the street 
 talking to a friend of mine last Sunday 
 afternoon, I saw this rather new looking 
 Ford go by ; and something told me very 
 plainly and very persistently to get that 
 car!'" 
 
 " 'That was Saint Anthony's inspira- 
 tion/ said Father Newman. 
 
 " 'True enough/ replied the officer, 'and 
 I certainly obeyed it. When I looked at 
 the car more closely I saw plainly enough 
 that it carried no license, so I immediately 
 ordered the occupants to headquarters. 
 But the license wasn't lost,' he added ; 'we 
 found it under the front mat.' 
 
 "When Father Newman tells the story 
 he says the drive east over the Lincoln 
 Trail was much pleasanter than the trip 
 west on the railroad. But do you know, 
 he says, they never could find a trace of 
 the Saint Christopher and Saint Benedict 
 medals." 
 
 "What of the medal of Saint Anthony.?" 
 asked Sister Joachim. 
 
 "Well, that is remarkable, too," an- 
 swered Sister Salome. "It had been fas- 
 tened originally to the seat, but evidently 
 the thieves had broken it off* ; only it re- 
 fused to be lost and had hidden itself be- 
 
28 The Ways of St, Anthony. 
 
 neath a little cement that was spilled on 
 the floor of the machine. Now what do 
 you suppose those men were doing with 
 that cement?" 
 
 "I haven't an idea/' said Sister Joachim, 
 slowly. "But I think we'd better ask Saint 
 Anthony to find the oil on that Texas land. 
 I don't believe it would be half as hard for 
 him to do that as to trace a stolen machine. 
 And then we could build our chapel and 
 have a special shrine for him. Who knows, 
 perhaps some day Father Newman would 
 say a Mass of Thanksgiving there !" 
 
 "Yes, in honor of Saint Anthony," fin- 
 ished Sister Salome. 
 
V. 
 
 ''1\/r ARTHA found her war stamp/' said 
 Sister Joachim coming into the 
 room with her arms full of books. 
 
 Sister Salome rose quickly. "Well, I 
 am going straight out and say told you 
 so.' Martha is such a doubting Thomas 
 and it hurts my feelings when anyone 
 doubts Saint Anthony! Besides I must 
 remind her that she'll ha\'e to give the 
 fifty cents she promised to the Bread 
 Fund." 
 
 "Did she promise fifty cents asked 
 Sister Joachim. "Well, that's not so bad ! 
 Ten per cent on the capital, isn't it.^ Please 
 ask her where she found it. I didn't have 
 time to listen to it all." And she settled 
 herself to her work as Sister Salome closed 
 the door behind her. But she was not to 
 have peace then; for Sister Salome re- 
 turned almost immediately and she started 
 on a favorite theme at once. 
 
 "It was behind her trunk stuck under 
 the baseboard," she volunteered. "She 
 said she thought it was in the trunk but 
 
30 
 
 The Ways of St, Anthony, 
 
 she must have laid it on the top and then it 
 fell off when the lid was raised. She 
 looked and looked through everj^hing she 
 had, but she didn't find it until Katherine 
 swept the floor, and there it was !" 
 
 "The next time she'll have more faith," 
 remarked Sister Joachim, and she went 
 back to her books. 
 
 "Do you remember the time you told 
 me Saint Anthony liked to have his favors 
 published?" asked Sister Salome after 
 about a moment of silence. 
 
 Sister Joachim shook her head in as- 
 sent; but she kept one eye on her Spanish 
 book. 
 
 "I think I rather turned up my nose at 
 the idea," continued Sister Salome, "but 
 it's true and I will have to apologize to 
 you." Whereupon she produced a letter 
 from her pocket and pushed it across the 
 table. 
 
 But Sister Joachim didn't move. The 
 Spanish Subjunctive is not to be trifled 
 with and she was very anxious to get 
 through with her task. 
 
 "Oh, then I'll read it to you," Sister 
 Salome, not in the least daunted went 
 on, "and you'll be glad you are so gen- 
 erous with your superior critical powers. 
 
Saint Anthony as a Salesman. 31 
 
 and occasionally prod on my discouraged 
 efforts to honor Saint Anthony. — You 
 know these stories are as much yours as 
 they are mine, anyway/' she finished. 
 
 *^'Well, go on then," said Sister Joachim, 
 resignedly, as she closed her book for the 
 morning. Sister Salome always wanted 
 someone to listen to something at the 
 wrong time; though of course. Sister 
 Joachim didn't really feel that way about 
 Saint Anthony. Dear Saint Anthony ! It 
 was just the Spanish ! 
 
 So very slowly Sister Salome read aloud. 
 
 "I can't quite make out whether this 
 woman has a store or not," she said, as 
 she folded the letter, ''but I think she has ; 
 and anyway I am going to make her have 
 one, for otherwise how could she be selling 
 blankets? And the facts are certainly 
 true." 
 
 Sister Joachim waited. 
 
 "I think that is one of the best things 
 Saint Anthony has done yet," mused Sis- 
 ter Salome thoughtfully. "That woman 
 — ^what was her name.^" 
 
 "Mary T. Swing," prompted Sister 
 Joachim. 
 
 "Well, Mary T. Swing had invested all 
 her capital in blankets and she couldn't 
 
32 The Ways of St. Anthony. 
 
 sell any of them. When she finally did 
 make a sale and the blankets were deliv- 
 ered, instead of money in payment, she re- 
 ceived word that they were not what had 
 been ordered, and were entirely unsatis- 
 factory.'' 
 
 "They didn't tell her what the trouble 
 was, did they?" interrupted Sister Joa- 
 chim. "I wonder if they were too long 
 or too short or too heavy or too light, or 
 what was the matter with them. I wish 
 Miss Swing had told us." 
 
 "Well, it doesn't make any difference, 
 for they were not accepted," continued 
 Sister Salome, "and poor Miss Swing was 
 broken-hearted. I don't think anything 
 in this world is so difficult to bear as dis- 
 appointments. Even little ones hurt; and 
 think how she must have depended on her 
 sales. But now comes the point of my 
 apology. Sister Joachim! Miss Mary T. 
 Swing — I feel so familiar when I call her 
 plain Mary — came across a Saint An- 
 thony Messenger with our story of ^Saint 
 Anthony as a Lawyer' in it, and when she 
 read it, she was encouraged and felt better 
 at once." 
 
 "Why, we all feel better when we hear 
 of good things done to others," said Sister 
 
Saint Anthony as a Salesman. 
 
 Joachim. "It does give us courage — or 
 at least it does me.'' 
 
 "And it did Mary T. too/' replied Sister 
 Salome. "She immediately began a No- 
 vena to Saint Anthony and in her own 
 words 'the next minute after my prayers 
 were said and I promised Saint Anthony I 
 would subscribe for the Messenger, my 
 heart felt lighter.' " 
 
 "Isn't it marvelous what prayer will ac- 
 complish?" exclaimed Sister Joachim. 
 "What would we do without it?" 
 
 "Nothing at all for this world, or the 
 next either," said Sister Salome. "But the 
 real answer to the Novena came later, 
 when just before it was finished the poor 
 little anxious storekeeper received a most 
 happy surprise. The blankets were not 
 only not unsatisfactory but every one was 
 sold. Her whole investment had turned 
 out well ! Wasn't that splendid?" 
 
 "Yes, indeed," replied Sister Joachim, 
 "I should think it w^as. What are you go- 
 ing to call this story?" 
 
 "Just what the woman to whom it hap- 
 pened did," responded Sister Salome, 
 " 'Saint Anthony as a Salesman' !" 
 
 W.S.A.-2 
 
VL 
 
 CISTER SALOME was in a brown 
 ^ study. Miss Katherine had just told 
 her an old, old story of Saint Anthony and 
 somehow it haunted her. She could pic- 
 ture all the details : the sick woman, the 
 determined doctor, the unpalatable medi- 
 cine, the dread alternative, and then — 
 Saint Anthony. 
 
 Of course, she tried hard to keep her 
 mind on the work in hand but it was al- 
 most hopeless for she wanted to tell that 
 story to spread the knowledge and love of 
 the dear Franciscan Saint. "Shall I, or 
 shall I not," she kept saying over and over, 
 until finally in desperation she went off to 
 find Sister Joachim. She'd know, and 
 very promptly ; she always did. 
 
 Sister Joachim was in the garden with 
 Peter, who was planting potatoes in nice 
 even rows. But evidently the interruption 
 was not unwelcome for she came immedi- 
 ately when she saw Sister Salome and they 
 both sat down by the shrine where it was 
 shady and cool. 
 
A Tzvice Told Tale of St. AntJwny. 35 
 
 ''Do you think it would be fair to tell 
 a story about Saint Anthony a second 
 time?" began Sister Salome. "You know, 
 some people like to hear the same thing 
 over and over again ; and my brother used 
 to say he'd take me every place he went 
 because I could always laugh at his stories, 
 and I'd heard some of them a dozen 
 times." And she smiled, remembering. 
 
 ''Oh," groaned Sister Joachim, "Sister 
 Salome, why don't you tell the story first 
 and then put your question, instead of be- 
 ginning with the question.^" 
 
 "Well, I will," responded Sister Salome. 
 Sister Joachim was patient with her after 
 all, so she went on : 
 
 "Miss Katherine told me she had a 
 friend, Mrs. Varley, out in Fenton, who 
 is quite an old lady now and who is the 
 subject of one of Saint Anthony's miracles. 
 She also said, Mrs. Varley had told the 
 story before, but she'd be only too glad 
 to have it told again so the whole world 
 could know what Saint Anthony did for 
 her." 
 
 "Well, what did he do?" asked Sister 
 Joachim, patiently. 
 
 "Why, he cured her, of course," replied 
 Sister Salome. "You see when Mrs. Var- 
 
36 
 
 TJie IVays of St. Anthony, 
 
 ley was a young woman she was a con- 
 firmed invalid. She had a tumor that re- 
 sisted every effort of the doctor to cure it, 
 and it made her so unsightly that she was 
 practically confined to the house." 
 
 Sister Joachim looked at the blue sky, 
 across which little fleecy clouds were scur- 
 rying, and at the budding trees, where the 
 birds were arguing over their summer 
 homes. ^^I can hardly imagine a greater 
 cross," she said, with a little prayer of 
 gratitude for her own good health. "What 
 happened next.^" 
 
 "It didn't happen," replied Sister Sa- 
 lome. "Doctor Hopper wanted it, too; 
 but Mrs. Varley wouldn't consent. He 
 said, only an operation would save her, 
 for she was growing steadily worse; and 
 she said, she would rather die, though 
 she wasn't anxious to do that either, and 
 then — enter Saint Anthony. 
 
 "A neighbor brought in a book contain- 
 ing a short life of the Wonder-Worker, 
 and as Mrs. Varley read it she made up 
 her mind. Like that New England woman 
 we used to laugh so much about, 'She 
 made it up slow but she made it up firm.' 
 She was going to be cured, and by Saint 
 Anthony, too! 
 
A Twice Told Tale of St. Anthony. 37 
 
 "She didn't have a statue of the Saint, 
 so she borrowed one, and she arranged 
 a Uttle altar near her bed for it ; and then 
 began her devotions. They were to last 
 nine weeks, a Novena of weeks instead of 
 days." • 
 
 "She was more patient than most of us 
 are," remarked Sister Joachim. "Now^ if 
 you, for instance, didn't have days in your 
 Novenas you would have hours, wouldn't 
 you?" 
 
 Sister Salome nodded. "How well you 
 know me! But I can wait when I have 
 to," she finished. 
 
 "What were the devotions.^" asked Sis- 
 ter Joachim. 
 
 "Prayers, of course," was the reply. 
 "And one candle before the Saint the first 
 week, two the second, and so on, until the 
 last week found the shrine brilliant with 
 nine candles." 
 
 "Did the cure begin right away.^" won- 
 dered Sister Joachim. 
 
 "No, Saint Anthony waited until his 
 own day, Tuesday, before he made the 
 slightest move. It was then that Mrs. 
 Varley felt the first change in her condi- 
 tion." 
 
 "I wonder why people say that Tuesday 
 
38 
 
 The Ways of St. Anthony. 
 
 is Saint Anthony's day?" mused Sister 
 Joachim, as she watched a sleek blackbird 
 swagger across the lawn. 
 
 'Well, it hasn't been xtry long since 
 I asked the same question myself," and 
 Sister Salome smiled as she thought of 
 Father David's hunt for the answer. "So 
 out of my profound knowledge I'll en- 
 lighten you. Saint Anthony was buried 
 on Tuesday, and maybe it was his habitual 
 humility that made him love the day on 
 which he was finally hidden from the gaze 
 of the world, but am^vay, when he ap- 
 peared to one of his clients afterwards he 
 told her to make a devotion of nine con- 
 secutive Tuesdays and her prayer would 
 be heard. So Airs. Varley began to im- 
 pro\'e on Tuesday and then she went right 
 on. The doctor, not knowing he had a 
 rival in heaven, had brought two bottles 
 of medicine, a kind of last resource. And 
 what do you suppose Mrs. Varley did with 
 them.f"' 
 
 "Threw them away — that's what I 
 would have done," answered Sister Joa- 
 chim. 
 
 "No, she didn't do that," and Sister 
 Salome shook her head. "She didn't say 
 a word to the doctor though, but she took 
 
A Twice Told Tale of St. Antliony. 39 
 
 those two bottles and put them behind the 
 statue saying, 'Saint Anthony, I'll take no 
 more medicine; you'll have to cure me/ 
 and went right on praying and improving 
 steadily. By the end of the Novena she 
 was cured." 
 
 "What did the doctor say when he found 
 it out?" interrupted Sister Joachim. 
 
 "The doctor thought his medicine had 
 cured her. When he first saw how well 
 she looked, and how well she was, he was 
 delighted and clapped his hands saying, 
 'Bully! bully! I'll get you through!' But 
 Mrs. Varley says, she thought to herself, 
 'Saint Anthony will get me through with - 
 out your aid, my good doctor!' And so he 
 did. And she says, she's sure it was Saint 
 Anthony, for she continued her daily de- 
 votions to him after her cure, until one 
 time she perceived a return of the old pain. 
 When she told her husband, he said, 
 'There! you have forgotten your prayers 
 to Saint Anthony!' and sure enough, Mrs. 
 Varley acknowledged she hadn't thought 
 of them for a couple of days." 
 
 "I wish things like that would happen to 
 me when I forget," said Sister Joachim, 
 after a short pause. 
 
 "Well, if your patron saint had a sense 
 
40 TIic Ways of St. Anthony. 
 
 of humor, maybe they would," laughed 
 Sister Salome. "They say," she went on, 
 "that Mrs. Varley is responsible for the 
 public devotions to Saint Anthony in the 
 church at Fenton. She did everything she 
 could to stir up the congregation and she 
 begged the money for the statue. It is 
 lovely, too. Miss Katherine says." 
 
 "I wish we had a nice statue of him," 
 sighed Sister Joachim thinking of the 
 wonderful things he did. "Why, he might 
 even build the chapel we want, and we 
 need his help for so many things. But to 
 answer your questions, if I were you I 
 would tell this story a second time." 
 
 Sister Salome got up and went into the 
 house; but Sister Joachim sat perfectly 
 still. She was thinking of the sweet Fran- 
 ciscan Saint ; and through her mind went 
 over and over the line of the Responsory 
 "From beds of pain the sick arise." 
 
VII. 
 
 A FTER a long conversation at the tele- 
 phone, Sister Salome came back into 
 the room. 
 
 "That was John Bradford," she vouch- 
 safed, "and what do you think? He and 
 Anne lost all their luggage when they were 
 here last week. Someone stole the suit- 
 cases out of their automobile while they 
 were at dinner, and John is very much 
 upset." 
 
 "How did it happen?" asked Sister 
 Joachim looking up from the pile of pa- 
 pers she was correcting. 
 
 "Well, some of his mother's things were 
 with theirs," was the answer. "And John 
 carried the cases into her house so she 
 could get her own possessions, and when 
 he put them back in the trunk, he didn't 
 lock it. Then they went to his sister's for 
 dinner, and when they got into the ma- 
 chine, an hour later, the suit-cases were 
 gone." 
 
 "That doesn't sound like John," re- 
 
42 The Ways of St. Anthony. 
 
 marked Sister Joachim; ''but I suppose 
 all men take chances." 
 
 "They'd never get anywhere if they 
 didn't, though they sometimes come to 
 grief over them and Sister Salome sighed 
 at the remembrance of a few of her own 
 experiences. 
 
 "Of course you told John to pray to 
 Saint Anthony and promise him some- 
 thing for his Bread Fund." Sister 
 Joachim smiled as she went back to her 
 work. She knew Sister Salome and her 
 ways, and that the Bread Fund was a very 
 special hobby. 
 
 "Why, of course, what else could I say.^" 
 was the reply. 
 
 The next morning Sister Salome began 
 a Novena to Saint Anthony. She felt sort 
 of responsible for the loss and she didn't 
 want to have John and Anne tell everyone 
 they had lost all their possessions w^hen 
 they came to spend her feast-day with her, 
 though it w^as the downright truth, and 
 besides they might never want to come 
 again !" 
 
 "I think ril write a letter to Anne and 
 tell her to pray to Saint Anthony too, and 
 ril send her some Saint Anthony's stories 
 
Saint Antliony as a Detective. 43 
 
 to cheer her up. Confidence is a great 
 asset when one prays !" and Sister Salome 
 proceeded to put her resolution into effect 
 at once. 
 
 But two or three weeks slipped away 
 and as no more was heard from the luck- 
 less ones, their loss got pushed into the 
 background, for examinations were loom- 
 ing large. 
 
 Then came a letter in Anne's hand- 
 WTiting. No one but Anne would use 
 green ink! When Sister Salome cut the 
 envelope, she had to stoop to pick up a 
 clipping which had been enclosed, and this 
 is what she read: 
 
 BOYS' CAVE IS RAIDED. 
 
 Three Youths Arrested and Quantity of 
 Furnishings Held as Evidence. 
 
 Three boys were seized Monday afternoon and 
 a gorgeously decorated cave in a new realty addi- 
 tion was raided by the detectives, who found 
 draperies hung across the entrance and several 
 empty suit-cases and some women's wearing 
 apparel, which the police are holding as evidence. 
 W hile investigating recent burglaries of school 
 buildings on the East Side, the officers came 
 across the cave. The youths were turned over 
 to the juvenile authorities. 
 
44 The Ways of St. Anthony. 
 
 "It breathes of Sherlock Holmes/' 
 thought Sister Salome as she opened the 
 letter. Anne wrote: 
 
 Columbus, Ohio. 
 
 Dear Sister Salome: 
 
 Saint Anthony is indeed our friend! This clip- 
 ping is from Tuesday morning's paper. After 
 reading it I felt convinced that the wearing 
 apparel was ours. That afternoon Mother and 
 Paul went to the police station with me, where 
 we found the grips, but with very little in them. 
 Wednesday morning John and our lawyer got 
 busy, but the boys refused to tell anything, stick- 
 ing to the fact that they found them in a culvert. 
 However, in all their chasing up of clues, Paul 
 ran across a young man who had purchased 
 John's pearl stick-pin for seventy-five cents, it 
 being valued at two hundred and fifty dollars by 
 John. Well, today they "sweated" the boys and 
 one told that they stole a ride on the train to 
 Frostberg and sold them to some pawnbroker, so 
 Paul has gone with the officers this afternoon to 
 see how much they can recover, and Fm believing 
 that he is going to bring back the clothes and 
 jewelry, too. ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ y\\ write again 
 soon, but I just had to let you know of all this. 
 I feel so grateful to you and all the Sisters for 
 all their dear prayers. Many, many thanks and 
 love to all, and here's an extra share for you ! 
 
 Lovingly, Anne. 
 
 P. S. — Colored ink is the latest fashion, so 
 please do not mind my being fashionable ! ! ! ! ! 
 
Saint Anthony as a Detective. 
 
 When she had flnished reading, Sister 
 Salome stood perfectly still for a few mo- 
 ments. How did Saint Anthony ever plan 
 out all these affairs? It wasn't any trou- 
 ble, of course, for him to put the Grade 
 Book on the Parlor table when she had 
 left it in a third-floor class room ; and it 
 didn't require any thinking to make her 
 find a letter lost for three days, safe among 
 the contents of her capacious pocket, but 
 to string Anne Bradford's best dresses 
 across a line in the children's playhouse 
 so the whole detective service of a large 
 city couldn't find them for a month, — that 
 certainly was ingenious. 
 
 "Sister Joachim, listen to this," read 
 Sister Salome, after she had trailed the 
 busy nun up and down three flights of 
 stairs; and Sister Joachim listened in- 
 tently. Then she took the clipping and 
 read it herself. "Is that John's offering 
 for the Bread Fund.^" she asked, as she 
 looked at the paper in Sister Salome's 
 hand while giving back the letter. 
 
 "No, that's a side-track of Anne's — 
 sounds just like her, too! It appears she 
 mislaid some War Stamps, and in a panic 
 promised Saint Anthony twenty-five dol- 
 lars for his Bread Fund if she found them, 
 
46 The IVays of St. Anthony. 
 
 which she very promptly did in her Safety 
 Deposit Box. It seems to me I wouldn't 
 call them lost, but she did, and she's pay- 
 ing her debt." 
 
 ''I think Anne is a lovely girl/' said Sis- 
 ter Joachim. 
 
 ^^She certainly is a dear/' echoed Sister 
 Salome, ''and John was just made for her." 
 Sister Salome's heart was very tender to- 
 wards these young friends of hers, and in- 
 deed Mr. and Mrs. Bradford had their 
 own warm place in the Convent circle of 
 friends. 
 
 Nothing more was heard from them un- 
 til the Jubilee brought them to the Con- 
 vent for the festivities, and then there were 
 always people around, so Sister Salome 
 had to bide her time to ask the question 
 which was on the tip of her tongue. 
 
 ''Anne, how'd your suit-case affair turn 
 out.^" she began, when at last the two had 
 a chance for a real talk. 
 
 "Didn't I ever tell you that.^" exclaimed 
 Anne. "Well, we've been so busy getting 
 settled in our new home, I haven't had 
 time to write. But do you know, I got 
 almost all my things back, though John 
 was not so fortunate. However, he's per- 
 fectly satisfied. And it was so remarkable 
 
Sai)it Antlioux as a Detective. 
 
 how the pohcemen found the cave. There 
 was a band of boys about twelve or four- 
 teen years old, regular little toughs they 
 were, and they managed to get hold of a 
 smaller lad whom they took with them to 
 their cave. It was in a stone culvert and 
 you'd never suspect it was there until you 
 walked in. Of course the child was 
 amazed, and that night at the dinner table 
 he told his father where he had been and 
 what he had seen, and his father at last 
 became suspicious and telephoned the 
 police." 
 
 "And how did you e\'er think those 
 things were yours when you read that clip- 
 ping in the paper.^" asked Sister Salome. 
 
 "1 just felt it," said Anne. ''When we 
 walked into the Police Station, my brother 
 Paul and I, there lay our suit-cases ! The 
 officers in charge asked me why we hadn't 
 reported the loss at once, and I told him it 
 was reported inside of twenty minutes 
 after discovery. But you see, we said our 
 suit-cases were gone, and never thought 
 to call them automobile suit-cases, and as 
 these looked just like a traveling man's 
 box the police never connected them with 
 our loss." 
 
48 
 
 TJie Ways of St, Anthony. 
 
 "It took Saint Anthony to make that 
 connection/' laughed Sister Salome. 
 
 Later in the evening John got out his 
 check-book. ''How shall we make it out," 
 he asked as he examined his fountain pen. 
 
 Why, to Saint Anthony s Bread Fund,'' 
 replied Sister Salome with delight. 
 
VIII. 
 
 "CISTER JOACHIM," said Sister Sa- 
 ^ lome as she gazed thoughtfully at the 
 blank sheet of paper before her and then at 
 the newly sharpened lead-pencil, "if you 
 liked a person very much, would you 
 rather hear several little things about him 
 or one big thing?" 
 
 "Is that a conundrum?" asked Sister 
 Joachim from across the study table, "be- 
 cause if it is ril give it up. I have too 
 many problems to correct this evening to 
 think about conundrums," and Sister 
 Joachim returned despairingly to the pile 
 of papers before her. 
 
 However Sister Salome was not to be 
 put off in that manner. "It is not a co- 
 nundrum," she answered indignantly. "I 
 simply want to know whether you think 
 I'd better tell a number of small favors 
 Saint Anthony has granted or make th:s 
 story wholly about a big one." 
 
 "What small ones, as you call them, are 
 you going to tell? All of those?" and Sis- 
 ter Joachim looked at the numerous let- 
 
50 The Ways of St. Anthony. 
 
 ters Sister Salome had scattered before 
 her. But she knew by experience that the 
 sooner she satisfied Sister Salome, the 
 sooner she would get back to her inter- 
 rupted work ; and besides, as she so often 
 reminded herself when such interruptions 
 did come, she loved the wonder-working 
 Saint very dearly, too. 
 
 Sister Salome laughed. ''Hardly," she 
 replied, "but some of them. They are not 
 really small, of course; in fact, some of 
 them are a matter of life and death; but 
 they are incidents that people have writ- 
 ten to Father David without giving any 
 details ; and Father David told me to use 
 them as I chose." 
 
 ''And you want to use several in the 
 same story," said Sister Joachim. "I see; 
 well, tell me one." 
 
 Sister Salome did not have to be urged. 
 "Here's one, a beautiful one," she began, 
 "about a woman whose baby was sick; 
 and besides making a Xovena and apply- 
 ing Saint Anthony's medal, what do you 
 suppose she thought of doing 
 
 "I haven't any idea," said Sister 
 Joachim. 
 
 "She gave the child's weight in bread 
 to Saint Anthony for his poor, and the lit- 
 
Saint Aiitlwny's ''Little Things/' 51 
 
 tie one began to get well immediately, al- 
 though doctors and nurses had given it 
 up." 
 
 "Why, I don't see how he could refuse 
 a favor asked that way/' exclaimed Sister 
 Joachim. "That sounds like a story out 
 of the Ages of Faith." 
 
 "It is always the Ages of Faith where 
 Saint Anthony is concerned/' said Sister 
 Salome seriously ; and then she fell to ex- 
 amining her conscience to see where her 
 own faith was wanting since the dear 
 Franciscan Saint steadily refused her what 
 she asked for. But she knew she didn't 
 ask properly. She had not sufficient pa- 
 tience and she always wanted the answer 
 right away. 
 
 "The child's weight in bread/' Sister 
 Joachim was repeating softly to herself. 
 "I like that! The Saints do almost any- 
 thing that mothers ask them, don't they.^" 
 she finished aloud. "I suppose they think 
 about their own mothers and then they 
 can't refuse." 
 
 "Oh! there are many, many mother 
 stories !" eagerly exclaimed Sister Salome. 
 "Here is a letter from a mother who wants 
 to thank Saint Anthony for taking care of 
 her son. He was a radio operator on a 
 
52 
 
 TJie IVays of St. Anthony. 
 
 ship and was uninjured when two barges 
 of dynamite exploded near it and killed 
 about a hundred people." 
 
 "I fancy the Saints like gratitude, too/' 
 said Sister Joachim. "Don't you love to 
 think of them as being human just like we 
 are.?" 
 
 "I certainly do/' was the prompt re- 
 sponse ; "but here is another mother who 
 insists that you don't even have to ask 
 Saint Anthony. You have only to speak 
 lovingly about him and he helps you." 
 
 "Does writing about him do just as well 
 as talking about him.?" queried Sister 
 Joachim mischievously, but Sister Salome 
 ignored this personal thrust and went 
 right on. 
 
 "She says she and her children were dis- 
 cussing him one morning at the breakfast 
 table and in the middle of the conversa- 
 tion her little daughter suddenly exclaimed 
 that she had lost the tiny diamond out of 
 the ring she wore. The family were dis- 
 tressed and they all looked for it. How- 
 ever, when school time came the children 
 had to leave so the mother continued the 
 search alone. She says she did not say a 
 prayer but Saint Anthony must have 
 taken their talk as one, for when she got 
 
Saint Anthony's ''Little Things/' 53 
 
 back to the dining room there was that 
 httle stone lying among some grains of 
 sugar sprinkled on the table." 
 
 Sister Joachim had forgot her evening's 
 task by the time this story was ended. 
 "Any other one?" she asked. 
 
 "Yes," was the answer, "one about a 
 woman — not a Catholic — who lost her 
 pocket-book and bewailed it because of 
 some treasures she carried in it. Not 
 money, you know, but trifles with asso- 
 ciations connected with them." 
 
 "What did she do about it.^ Anything 
 different.^" asked Sister Joachim. 
 
 "Not particularly different," replied Sis- 
 ter Salome. "She just w^ent off to some 
 Sisters for consolation and they told her to 
 pray and to promise Saint Anthony an 
 alms if she found it; but she wouldn't 
 wait ; she gave the alms at once." 
 
 "And when did she find it.^" asked Sister 
 Joachim. "Oh, dear!" she added sud- 
 denly, "I wish you hadn't begun this for 
 I have to finish these papers and I just 
 can't help listening to stories about Saint 
 Anthony. When did she find it.^" 
 
 "She didn't find it at all for months," 
 answered Sister Salome, "and she had 
 almost given up hope, when some man 
 
54 TJic Ways of St. Anthony. 
 
 picked it up near a street car track where 
 it had apparently been lying all the time. 
 It was completely ruined but the contents 
 were undisturbed." 
 
 ^'Saint Anthony is very impartial, isn't 
 he.^ Sort of all things to all men/' said 
 Sister Joachim. 
 
 Sister Salome did not heed this remark, 
 as she was rummaging through her letters. 
 ''I am going to stop now," she announced 
 finally, as she found what she was search- 
 ing for, ''but I'll have to tell you about 
 Alice first. I call her Alice for I feel as 
 though I knew her. She makes me think 
 of you. Sister Joachim." 
 
 Sister Joachim grunted. "She must be 
 interesting," she remarked. 
 
 But Sister Salome went right on : "Now, 
 Alice wanted a big picture of her patron 
 Saint that was being raffled at a Church 
 bazaar. She had only one chance, but she 
 prayed and prayed that she might win it 
 and she felt so sure she would that she 
 even asked her nephew to go w^ith her to 
 the hall to carry it home for her." 
 
 "Well, that was confidence," inter- 
 rupted Sister Joachim. "Did she get it.^" 
 
 "Don't be in such a hurry, my dear," 
 returned Sister Salome in a righteous 
 
Saint Anthonys ''Little Things/' 55 
 
 v^oice, "you'll find out soon. It seems that 
 a wealthy lady, an acquaintance of Alice's, 
 wanted the picture, too, and probably 
 thought that her numerous chances en- 
 titled her to it, for as she said very grandly, 
 'Saint Anthdny is a friend of mine.' Well, 
 he is a cousin of mine,' boldly replied her 
 rival, not to be outdone, 'and I mean to 
 win him!' I wonder how it would feel to 
 have a Saint for a cousin," added Sister 
 Salome. 
 
 "Some people say it is very hard to live 
 with one, but, of course, I've never tried 
 it," laughed Sister Joachim with a glance 
 across the table. 
 
 "Well, some day you'll have a chance 
 then," was the reply. "That is if you out- 
 live me," and Sister Salome made her a 
 little bow. 
 
 "Did Alice win her picture.^" resumed 
 Sister Joachim. 
 
 "Of course, she did. And what do you 
 think She wasn't satisfied then with her 
 cousinly relationship, for in the exuber- 
 ance of her joy, she says at the end of her 
 letter, 'and now Saint Anthony is my 
 brother, as I am a Tertiary.' Isn't that 
 dehehtful.?" 
 
 When the two had stopped laughing. 
 
56 
 
 The iVays of St. Antnony. 
 
 Sister Joachim said: ''That's another 
 reason why I Uke Saint Anthony. He cer- 
 tainly does enjoy a joke. Do you remem- 
 ber Father David telhng about the woman 
 who asked him to let her find a dime she 
 had lost and she found two? But don't 
 you hate to lose things?" 
 
 Sister Salome did not answer at once. 
 "I am afraid I don't mind it so much as 
 I should," she confessed finally. "Saint 
 Anthony won't give me what I want him 
 to, but he finds ever}' thing I misplace. I 
 just say nine Our Fathers, and Hail Marys 
 and Glorys, or promise them to him, and 
 then I don't have to worry, he'll find it." 
 
 "Well, I notice he often gives you a scare 
 or tw^o before he does find them," re- 
 marked Sister Joachim. "Fve seen you 
 searching frantically for things I knew you 
 had lost!" 
 
 Sister Salome laughed. "That's the 
 reason I like all these little things he does, 
 and want to tell about them. They give 
 me confidence ; and as you've noticed cor- 
 rectly, I often have need of confidence," 
 she finished. 
 
IX. 
 
 &t ;antl)on? anti t^t Q^one? in t^t UXoot 
 
 "WHERE did you get that?" asked 
 Sister Joachim suspiciously, as Sis- 
 ter Salome entered the room with a dollar 
 bill in her hand. Sister Salome was the 
 custodian of the Chapel Fund, and it was 
 an open secret that every thing she could 
 collect went to swell the dimes and the 
 nickels and even the unused postage 
 stamps that were hoarded under that dig- 
 nified name. But she was accustomed to 
 such imputations, so she only laughed as 
 she replied : 
 
 Why Elizabeth Blake gave it to me for 
 Saint Anthony's Bread Fund. She is pay- 
 ing an honest debt for she lost her pocket- 
 book during the crowded Christmas shop- 
 ping and promised Saint Anthony a dol- 
 lar if he would find it. By the time she 
 2Ct to the claim desk, there it was. The 
 \A'onder-Worker was swifter than Eliza- 
 beth." 
 
 'Well, didn't Marion give you a dollar 
 this morning for one of her lost posses- 
 sions.^" asked Sister Joachim. "I thought 
 I heard something of it." 
 
58 
 
 The Ways of St. Anthony. 
 
 "Oh yes, her rosary. She says, it simply 
 disappeared, and knowing it was in some 
 pocket, she ransacked every one she had 
 but couldn't find it ; then she promised a 
 dollar to the Bread Fund, went to get a 
 paper out of her raincoat, and there was 
 the rosary. But that dollar is upstairs. 
 This is not the same one." 
 
 "That makes me think of what Father 
 David told us about a friend of his, a book- 
 keeper — I think he said, her name was 
 Grace. She was a dollar short in her ac- 
 counts and promised Saint Anthony a 
 quarter, if he found the mistake for her. 
 Saint Anthony paid no attention. Then 
 she promised him a dollar and immedi- 
 ately the error was discovered. ^Oh!' said 
 Grace, 'Saint Anthony has raised his 
 prices, too !' And she paid the dollar." 
 
 "I should think she would," replied Sis- 
 ter Salome. 
 
 "Isn't it queer," said Sister Joachim, 
 musingly, "that Saint Anthony's name is 
 so closely associated with money, and yet 
 he himself was as poor as a church- 
 mouse." 
 
 "Perhaps that's the reason he can 
 handle so much of it and not be defiled," 
 was the answer, "for besides being as poor 
 
St. Anthony and the Money in the Roof. 59 
 
 as a church-mouse, he was poor in spirit, 
 too. And then you must remember that 
 Saint Anthony has plenty of common 
 sense and he knows people have to have 
 money if they want to Hve and raise a 
 family." 
 
 "Wouldn't it be interesting to make a 
 list of Saint Anthony's characteristics — 
 just those we have found out through 
 people's letters," said Sister Joachim. '^I 
 wonder which one I should like best." 
 
 "Let's try it," exclaimed Sister Salome. 
 "There's his common sense, and his love 
 of gratitude, and his appreciation of a joke 
 — but speaking of people's letters, I have 
 one here that I am much interested in," 
 and she produced a thick envelope from 
 her pocket. 
 
 "What is it.^" asked Sister Joachim 
 settling herself to listen. 
 
 "It is from Mrs. Manly, a woman in the 
 West who writes about an affair she was 
 personally connected with. She says that 
 one day during the Fair in San Francisco, 
 she was called to the phone by a neighbor 
 of hers, Mrs. Worhouse, a woman she had 
 known for years. Mrs. Worhouse with 
 her husband and ten-year-old son, lived on 
 one of the hills overlooking the Fair 
 
GO The Ways of St. Anthony, 
 
 Grounds, and Master Fred spent much 
 time on the roof of the house inspecting 
 what was going on at the Fair. It appears 
 it was a very steep gabled roof and was 
 reached by a ladder nailed to the side wall. 
 Can you imagine anything more attractive 
 to a small boy.^" 
 
 ''It sounds as though it were made for 
 Fred's benefit, doesn't it.^" laughed Sister 
 Joachim. ''Think what our boys would 
 do if we had a building like that. It would 
 be worse than the cherry tree." 
 
 "Couldn't be," answered Sister Salome, 
 recalling the various encounters she had 
 had with the masculine element of the 
 school during cherr}' time. Then she 
 laughed. "Think of all the cherry trees 
 there have been and of all the small boys, 
 yes, and small girls, too, that have at- 
 tacked them, and still the world goes on ! 
 But to go back to the story. 
 
 "Mrs. Worhouse said she had been 
 robbed. She had saved the money for her 
 rent and when she had the proper amount 
 she had it changed to a bill which she put 
 in a pocket-book with some small coins, 
 and laid it away for the collector's call. 
 That morning, he had come, and after an 
 exchange of pleasantries, she took out the 
 
St, Anthony and tlic Money in the Roof. Gl 
 
 pocket-book, opened it, and — the bill was 
 gone! Poor Mrs. Worhouse was dazed. 
 She had worked so hard to save it and 
 then to lose it just at the moment it was 
 most needed seemed too hard to bear." 
 
 "The collector was very considerate. He 
 said he would wait and come back in a 
 week or so; and after he was gone Mrs. 
 Worhouse searched the place. It was a 
 hopeless task and finally she went to the 
 telephone to pour out her troubles to Mrs. 
 Manly. She knew her friend had great 
 devotion to Saint Anthony and she begged 
 her prayers." 
 
 "I wonder if w^e Catholics ever realize 
 what our devotion to the Saints means 
 to other people," said Sister Joachim, 
 earnestly. "And besides, isn't it a comfort 
 to have someone as big and wise and as 
 holy as a Saint is, to help us in our 
 troubles.^" Sister Joachim fairly purred 
 w^ith contentment at the thought; and 
 Sister Salome made an act of thanksgiving 
 for her own particular friends in heaven, 
 but aloud she said: 
 
 "Mrs. Manly tried to console Mrs. Wor- 
 house for her loss, and immediately began 
 a devotion to the dear Franciscan Saint, 
 that he would find the money. In the 
 
The Ways of St. Anthony. 
 
 meantime Mrs. Worhouse searched again. 
 Xo nook, no corner, was left unvisited, 
 but what was the use.^ The money was 
 not to be found. The first day passed, and 
 the second day passed, and the third day 
 was almost ended when Mrs. Manly's 
 telephone rank loud and long. As she took 
 down the receiver, Mrs. Worhouse began 
 breathlessly: 
 
 ''What do you think I have found my 
 mon^y." 
 
 "Do you know, sometimes a telephone 
 bell actually tells you who is at the other 
 end of the line.^" said Sister Joachim w^ith 
 assurance. 
 
 "Yes, and sometimes it doesn't," re- 
 marked Sister Salome drily, remembering 
 the agent who had wanted her to buy soap 
 a few days before. "Anyway, Mrs. Manly 
 didn't expect such an announcement as 
 that. 'Tell me about it,' she said. 
 
 " 'You know how hard it rained this 
 morning,' was the rejoinder. 'Well, our 
 roof leaked, and leaked pretty badly, too. 
 So I asked the agent to send a man to fix 
 it and he came straight out.' " 
 
 "That was a strange agent," murmured 
 Sister Joachim, who often had leaks to see 
 to. 
 
St. Aiitliojiy aud tJic Money in the Roof. G3 
 
 Sister Salome paid no attention. She 
 repeated Airs. Worhouse's words. " 'He 
 came straight out and it only took him a 
 short time to repair the leak as there 
 seemed to be but one shingle out of place. 
 Of course, my little son went up to super- 
 intend the job. Then about an hour after 
 the man left, Fred came to me' — Mrs. 
 Worhouse stopped with a catch in her 
 breath." 
 
 '''And then/ said Mrs. Manly after 
 waiting a moment. Mrs. Worhouse went 
 on bravely: 'Fred told me the man who 
 fixed the roof had my money' 'Did you 
 ever.^' exclaimed A4rs. Manly. 'Where 
 did he get it.?"' 
 
 " 'You may well ask where he got it,' 
 said Mrs. Worhouse. 'Why it was in the 
 hole on the roof; the shingle had been 
 taken up and the money put inside, and 
 the shingle had been replaced again ; but 
 badly, of course.' " 
 
 "Who ever would look for money in a 
 hole in a roof," said Sister Joachim. Then 
 she laughed. "We have some holes in our 
 own as we know when it rains. Do you 
 suppose we could find money in any of 
 them.?" 
 
 "If we had a Fred to put it there, we 
 
64 
 
 TJic JVays of St, Anthony. 
 
 might," remarked Sister Salome signifi- 
 cantly. 
 
 "Why!" gasped Sister Joachim. This 
 was astounding information. 
 
 "I don't wonder you are amazed/' said 
 Sister Salome. "But it is the truth. Mrs. 
 Worhouse said, her little boy confessed 
 that he had taken the money from the 
 purse, and then, not knowing what to do 
 with it, he had climbed to the roof, his 
 favorite resort, removed a shingle and put 
 it carefully into the hole. No one thought 
 anything about his going up on the roof 
 because he spent so much time there any- 
 way." 
 
 "What made him tell his mother.^" 
 asked Sister Joachim. 
 
 "Mrs. Worhouse said he went up the 
 ladder after the man and watched him to 
 see if he would find the money. Then he 
 saw him pick it up, look at it carefully, 
 and put it in his pocket. When the work 
 was done, the lad waited around to see if 
 the man would give it to his mother, but 
 instead, he went off with it. Then Master 
 Fred got scared and breaking down, told 
 her all about it." 
 
 "Mrs. Worhouse called him up and he 
 came right out again. Then she told him 
 
St. Antlwjiy and the Money in the Roof. 65 
 
 about the money having been there and 
 that her Uttle boy had seen him take it. 
 The man did not deny it at all. He only 
 asked her if she could describe the bill, and 
 when Mrs. Worhouse told him it was an 
 old, worn, twenty-dollar bill, he handed it 
 to her without another word." 
 
 ''Now, Sister Joachim," said Sister Sa- 
 lome after a short pause. "Which was 
 really Saint Anthony's part in the affair; 
 making the boy own up about taking the 
 money, or making the man give it up.^" 
 
 "Why both of them, of course," 
 promptly replied Sister Joachim, "for if 
 the boy had not owned up, the man would 
 never have been asked for the money; 
 and if the man had not given it up, there 
 never would have been any story about 
 Saint Anthony!" 
 
X. 
 
 &t antjong at (Cbng tCum 
 
 'HE room was very quiet. Even the 
 
 automobiles on the Avenue seemed 
 hushed, and nothing broke the stillness 
 except the occasional scratching of Sister 
 Salome's pencil, or the scraping of her 
 eraser across her paper. She was in a great 
 hurry and she hardly lifted her head as she 
 wrote and wrote. This story had to be 
 finished by night, for Father David was 
 depending on it and she did not want to 
 disappoint him. So she looked at Sister 
 Joachim just long enough to smile when 
 the latter entered the room, and then went 
 right on with her task. Sister Joachim 
 sat down quietly and waited. All of a sud- 
 den Sister Salome said: 
 
 "Wasn't Virginia Cain here today, Sis- 
 ter Joachim.^" 
 
 Sister Joachim nodded. "Yes," she an- 
 swered. "She just got home and came 
 right over to see us. Wasn't that nice.^ 
 She says they are going to try to get a 
 house, and if they succeed she'll give you 
 a Saint Anthony Story." 
 
St. Anthony at Every Turn. 
 
 67 
 
 Sister Salome laughed. "Don't talk to 
 me about Saint Anthony stories/' she said. 
 "I'm swamped now trying to fit all of these 
 together," and she pointed to the pile of 
 paper before her. 
 
 "Well, be sure to put in about the man 
 w^ho employs Saint Anthony as an In- 
 surance Agent. Father David declares he 
 sends his premium regularly and is per- 
 fectly confident he'll never have a fire. I 
 fancy he won't either," finished Sister 
 Joachim. 
 
 "If I were Saint Anthony I wouldn't 
 let him," said Sister Salome, "and I'd also 
 prosper a man who writes he has taken 
 the Wonder-worker for a business partner. 
 He gives him fifteen per cent of all his 
 earnings." 
 
 "Do you know. Sister Salome," said Sis- 
 ter Joachim earnestly, "I am profoundly 
 impressed by all these letters you have. 
 The spirit of faith and resignation they 
 manifest is remarkable, and confidence! 
 why, there seems to be no limit to it." 
 
 "Confidence !" exclaimed Sister Salome. 
 "Here's a letter from a young man who 
 had confidence," and she picked up an en- 
 velope and opened it. The writer was a 
 Henry Bergman, a workman, who evi- 
 
68 
 
 The Ways of St. Anthony. 
 
 dently could be very successful if he tried. 
 But the pity of it was that he didn't try, 
 and drifting with bad companions into 
 drink, he dropped his religion, and lost his 
 employment, so he soon had nothing. 
 
 "That missionary priest who was here 
 the other day told me," said Sister Joa- 
 chim, "that very few people who leave 
 the Church do it because they lose their 
 faith. Most of them simply drift through 
 carelessness." 
 
 "Well, Mr. Bergman writes that he 
 never lost his faith," answered Sister Sa- 
 lome, "and he also says that he seemed to 
 hold fast to his confidence in Saint An- 
 thony. Perhaps that is what brought him 
 back." And she went on with the letter. 
 
 It seemed that the young man's condi- 
 tion finally got so bad he had absolutely 
 nothing and then he was startled into 
 thinking. He made a great resolution to 
 reform. Of course, he needed money so 
 he asked his brother to lend him some. 
 The brother, of course, had little faith in 
 his promises and flatly refused him. 
 "Saint Anthony, help me," murmured the 
 young fellow as he turned away, and Saint 
 Anthony must have helped him, for the 
 very next morning the brother came back 
 
St, Anthony at Every Turn. 69 
 
 with twenty-five dollars, the amount he 
 had been asked for. 
 
 "Now," said Sister Salome, "Mr. Berg- 
 man is doing well. He has prospects of a 
 good position and he has promised to send 
 the Bread Fund a dollar each w^eek for a 
 year in thanksgiving." 
 
 "Did he ask to have the story pub- 
 lished.^" asked Sister Joachim as Sister 
 Salome laid down the letter. 
 
 "Yes, and I myself am beginning to be- 
 lieve in that sort of thanksgiving," was the 
 answer. And then with a smile Sister 
 Salome went on : "If Saint Anthony ever 
 finds the oil on that Texas land we'll have 
 to publish it from the housetops." That 
 Texas land was a standing joke between 
 the two. "Here's another letter, a very 
 different kind." 
 
 It was written by a woman who was 
 sending an offering to the Bread Fund in 
 thanksgiving for finding a valuable pin. 
 The offering, she said, was "a great sacri- 
 fice but it would have been a greater one 
 to have lost the pin." She had shaken it 
 out of the window when she was cleaning 
 and she did not miss it until the next day 
 when she was dressing to go out. She at 
 once besieged Saint Anthony, and on her 
 
70 
 
 The Ways of St. Anthony, 
 
 way down street she stopped at a neigh- 
 bor's house to ask her prayers also. But 
 to her surprise the neighbor greeted her 
 with the assurance that the lost treasure 
 was perfectly safe, as her own little grand- 
 son had picked it up and it was in her 
 possession that very minute. 
 
 ''Where did that woman live?" asked 
 Sister Joachim. 
 
 ''In Philadelphia/' replied Sister Sa- 
 lome, "but here is a letter from St. Louis, 
 one from Newark, New Jersey, one from 
 Louisville, one from Beloit, Wisconsin, 
 another from Covington. Oh, they come 
 from all over the Union. A man from 
 Jamaica Plain, Massachusetts, writes to 
 thank Saint Anthony for protecting him 
 from injury in the explosion of a tank he 
 w^as working on. He says he knows it was 
 Saint Anthony because about twenty min- 
 utes before it happened he was saying his 
 rosary and reading the Manual in honor 
 of the Saint. Sister Joachim, I could hang 
 my head when I read things like that. But 
 here's a letter that sounds like our Ethics 
 Class problems." 
 
 "Read it," said Sister Joachim. "Let's 
 see how the dear Franciscan Saint solves 
 such cases." 
 
St, Anthony at Every Turn, 
 
 71 
 
 "A Mrs. Burton writes: 'I bought a 
 dress and paid for it but the same was not 
 satisfactory, so it was returned. The com- 
 pany refused to return my money. They 
 deUberated a whole month, during which 
 time I prayed to Saint Anthony. Yester- 
 day I received a check from them.' Now, 
 what do you think of that.^" asked Sister 
 Salome. 
 
 "I think that Saint Anthony believes 
 that ^the greatest of these is charity,' said 
 Sister Joachim. ''Did you hear the tale 
 Sister Louise told the other day about an 
 experience of hers.^" 
 
 "No," answered Sister Salome with in- 
 terest. "Our Sister Louise.^ What was 
 
 itr 
 
 "You know Sister Louise is a convert," 
 was the reply. "She became a Catholic 
 when she was about twelve years old at 
 the Convent where she was at school at 
 that time. Not long after she went home 
 her mother came to her and said: 'Dude, 
 you go into the other room and say a 
 prayer to that Saint that finds things. I 
 have lost the money your father sent me.' 
 Mrs. Barret did not even know Saint An- 
 thony's name, but she wanted the money 
 which she had lost. It was rolled up and 
 
72 
 
 The Ways of St. Anthony. 
 
 fastened with a rubber band, and what 
 she had done with it she hadn't an idea." 
 
 "Do you suppose Sister Louise enjoyed 
 a joke as much then as she does now?" 
 asked Sister Salome. ''She must have 
 been amused. I can just see her." 
 
 "I don't know whether she did or not; 
 but she said the prayer, though the money 
 did not turn up at once, and Mrs. Barret 
 went on searching. After a while Sister 
 Louise asked if she and her sister could get 
 some pieces from the ragbag to make doll 
 clothes, and when the permission was 
 given, they ransacked it: and what do 
 you think There was that roll of money. 
 Evidently Mrs. Barret had gathered it up 
 with the scraps off the sewing machine 
 and stuffed it away. But she knew the 
 proper thing to do. 'Dude,' she said, 'you 
 go right in and say some prayers to that 
 Saint in thanksgiving*' and Sister Louise 
 went." 
 
 "That's the story I am going to end 
 with," announced Sister Salome with a 
 little chuckle. "It is what you might call 
 a homegrown product, and I think I ought 
 to patronize it," and Sister Salome bent 
 once more over her paper and began to 
 write. 
 
XL 
 
 T7[7'HEN one wanted to be quiet and 
 write there was no place like the 
 bench out on the lawn. The trees were 
 so beautiful with their fresh spring gowns ; 
 and the blackbirds hadn't been North long 
 enough to be saucy yet ; while the fat rab- 
 bit that sat up on his haunches and looked 
 so wise, was a perfect delight. Yes, that 
 was the place to go, so Sister Salome gath- 
 ered her papers and pencils and departed 
 out of her warm classroom. Her fingers 
 were itching to write, and why shouldn't 
 they be, when Saint Anthony had done a 
 wonderful thing, indeed, and she was to 
 have the honor of telling about it.^ Sister 
 Salome felt she was very blest. This was 
 the story: 
 
 Martha Davis lived with her mother 
 and sister, Dorothy, in a large city and 
 they made a very happy family. Every 
 one knew that Martha had a cataract on 
 one eye and had had it for years ; but she 
 was so bright and cheery in spite of it, that 
 it never occurred to people to feel sorry 
 
74 
 
 The Ways of St. Anthony. 
 
 for her. Even the family no longer sug- 
 gested an operation. ''No, no/' Martha 
 used to say when the subject was first 
 broached. "I won't think of it at all. I 
 won't even consider it. So please drop the 
 matter." And no wonder she could not 
 muster up her courage. 
 
 Twenty years before, when Martha was 
 a young girl, her friends noticed that she 
 was getting very near-sighted. She held 
 her paper very close to her eyes when she 
 read, and sewing seemed impossible un- 
 less the work was almost in her face. Her 
 mother thought she needed glasses and so 
 one day took her to Dr. Harding, a spe- 
 cialist, to have her eyes tested. Who does 
 not know what the wait in a doctor's office 
 is? Time drags heavily and is relieved 
 only by an occasional glimpse of the white- 
 clad figure as he smiles upon his patients 
 and then disappears for another inter- 
 minable period. But Mrs. Davis and 
 Martha were not accustomed to complain 
 so they sat very quietly until they were 
 summoned into the great man's private 
 office. It did not take him very long to 
 diagnose the case and he soon announced 
 that Martha was suffering, not from near- 
 sightedness, as she thought, but from a 
 
Saint Anthony as a Specialist. 75 
 
 cataract on each eye. The announcement 
 came Uke a thunderbolt. 
 
 Sister Salome laid her pencil down very 
 slowly. Then she looked up at the blue 
 sky towards which a gray streak was rising 
 steadily from a distant smokestack. All 
 around the grass was green and on the 
 edge of the walk a Robin Redbreast was 
 cocking his head as though considering 
 the merits of something creeping among 
 the flowers. Sister Salome took a long 
 breath ! Had she ever really thanked God 
 for her gift of sight, she wondered. What 
 a blessing it was ! And she could so easily 
 have lost it, a hundred times over. She 
 was surely ungrateful ; but she would 
 never be again, and she began once more 
 to write. 
 
 Dr. Harding said the only thing to do 
 was to perform an operation. He would 
 first clear the right eye, and later would 
 remove the cataract from the left one, 
 which was not quite so bad. There was 
 nothing really to worry about, he said. 
 He had removed many such conditions 
 and his success in this case was almost 
 certain. He spoke in such a confident 
 manner that both Martha and her mother 
 took hope, and before they left it was 
 
76 The Ways of St. Anthony. 
 
 agreed that the former should go to the 
 hospital the next morning and the Doctor 
 would make her as good as new. 
 
 That evening was scarcely a merry one 
 in the Davis household, though each one 
 tried to think of something pleasant to 
 say, just to keep up the spirits of the oth- 
 ers. However, at last it was over, the night 
 was past, and Martha with her mother and 
 sister presented herself at the hospital, 
 pretty badly frightened, but outwardly 
 brave and smiling. 
 
 Dr. Harding was in high, good spirits, 
 and his cheery "good morning" was very 
 reassuring. The preparations were speedily 
 made and the oculist set to work. After 
 a while Martha began to think something 
 must be the matter; the Doctor looked 
 worried ; and there was a queer feeling in 
 her eye. She thought that it must be drain- 
 ing. Even after the nurse had bandaged 
 out all the light and had put her to bed, 
 she could feel the same sensation; but she 
 supposed it was part of the operation and 
 so asked no questions and made no com- 
 plaint. 
 
 When Mrs. Davis arrived at the hos- 
 pital the following morning, the truth 
 came out. In some unaccountable way, 
 
Saint Anthony as a Specialist. 77 
 
 Dr. Harding had cut the eye-ball and the 
 damage was irreparable. The eye was 
 running steadily and would continue to 
 run until the socket was empty, and there 
 would be a total loss of sight. 
 
 Mrs. Davis was heart-broken, of course, 
 but she was too much mistress of herself 
 to make an outcry; and besides, Martha 
 must be saved as much as possible. If it 
 was God's will, then they would all have to 
 bear it. Only after she had returned home, 
 did the full measure of her grief show it- 
 self, and she and Dorothy sorrowed to- 
 gether. 
 
 In the evening Dorothy was going to the 
 hospital, so after tea she started out. But 
 before she left the house, she wrote a peti- 
 tion to the Wonder-worker and promised 
 him an offering for his Bread Fund, if her 
 sister's sight was saved. That would be 
 a miracle indeed! The eyeball had col- 
 lapsed and the liquid contents had almost 
 entirely escaped. Dorothy, however, reso- 
 lutely dropped her petition into the box 
 before the Saint's shrine in the Church, 
 and then forced herself to hope. 
 
 Nor was she to be disappointed. The 
 very next morning, the draining sensation 
 ceased. When a little later on, the nurse 
 
78 The Ways of St. Anthony. 
 
 removed the bandages for the doctor, his 
 amazement was beyond words to describe. 
 The socket was not only not empty, but 
 to add to his astonishment, he found that 
 it was refining and that the eyeball was 
 reshaping itself. The thing was beyond 
 the comprehension of the learned man 
 who knew nothing of the dear Franciscan 
 Saint and his ways. But he was to have 
 still another shock, for on the third day 
 Martha could see anything held before her. 
 When she returned home the only differ- 
 ence her friends saw in her appearance was 
 that her right eye looked very bright be- 
 hind her new glasses ! The miracle w^as 
 worked ! 
 
 'T wonder how it would feel," said Sis- 
 ter Salome to herself, "to know that you 
 had been the object of a true miracle." 
 For a long time she sat still pondering 
 this ; then she heard the meditation bell 
 ring. "Am-^vay," she added aloud as she 
 gathered up her things, "the Responsory 
 is right. If you would see miracles, ask 
 Saint Anthony for them," and she went in 
 to prayers. 
 
XII. 
 
 ''Dear Father David: 
 
 must write and tell you of my great escape 
 from death, for I was surely as near death as 
 any one could be and not get a scratch ; but it is 
 all due to Saint Anthony that I am still alive 
 tonight." 
 
 "There, now; that will surely be a 
 story/' said Sister Salome to herself as her 
 eyes ran hastily through the letter she held 
 in her hands. 
 
 "What will surely be a story?" asked 
 Sister Joachim, who had entered the room 
 just in time to hear the end of the remark. 
 
 "Oh!" said Sister Salome, "I was just 
 wishing you were here. It is so much 
 easier to make up your mind when you 
 have some one to disagree with you; and 
 I am all at sixes and sevens as to which 
 letters to use this time." 
 
 "Read that one to me, the whole thing," 
 and Sister Joachim, sitting down near the 
 window where she could keep one eye on 
 Peter mowing the grass outside, "and then 
 I'll advise you and you'll probably do as 
 you please in the end." 
 
80 The Ways of St. Anthony. 
 
 Sister Salome smiled. She was too in- 
 terested in her work just then to be greatly 
 offended, and besides she had a lurking 
 suspicion that what everyone said must 
 be true. She turned the paper over. 
 
 'This is a letter from a Mrs. Morrow," 
 she said. ''But I think after all I'll write 
 the story first and then I'll read it to you. 
 That will give you a variety, anyway," she 
 finished. 
 
 So Sister Joachim went out to Peter and 
 Sister Salome wrote quietly, referring 
 every now and then to the letter lying be- 
 fore her. After a while she, too, went out 
 doors and put her manuscript into Sister 
 Joachim's hand. This was what it said: 
 
 Mrs. Morrow had many things to do 
 that day and she set about them in her own 
 methodical, housew^ifely way. She was 
 cheery and happy, and smiled a bit as she 
 moved around. This was her birthday 
 and one always feels different on a birth- 
 day. Maybe something was going to hap- 
 pen ! One by one the morning chores were 
 done, the children looked after, the house 
 straightened. Then came the hour for the 
 baby's nap, that precious restful time when 
 the little head lay soft upon her breast as 
 she crooned the slumber song. But first 
 
St. Anthony — A Life Saver. 
 
 81 
 
 she would make sure of Miss Margaret's 
 whereabouts for that sturdy Httle daughter 
 was just at the exploring age when she 
 needed a watchful eye. However, she was 
 easily found for she was safe, intently 
 making a garden over in the corner of the 
 yard where the first green things came in 
 spring. Mrs. Morrow suddenly remem- 
 bered how she had always looked for the 
 stars of Bethlehem as part of her early 
 April birthday. With a tender little feel- 
 ing for all childhood she turned back to 
 her baby. 
 
 No — she'd stop before she sat down and 
 put that pan of fat she wanted to render 
 into the oven. It was not very hot now 
 and the grease would be ready for her be- 
 fore dinner. It hardly took as long to do 
 it as it did to think it, and soon she and 
 sleepy little Mary were cuddled in the 
 rocking chair by the dining-room window. 
 Slowly the soft little body relaxed, the long 
 silken eye-lashes lay quiet on the round 
 pink cheeks, and the mother's voice grew 
 still. 
 
 Just then Mrs. Morrow's eyes happened 
 to see her little Manual of Saint Anthony 
 lying on the table near her. She was mak- 
 ing a Novena to her patron Saint, so she 
 
82 The Ways of St. Anthony, 
 
 opened the book and turned to the Respon- 
 sory. She would say it before she put the 
 baby down and then she would go back 
 to her various duties. Dear Saint An- 
 thony! Surely he would give her what 
 she asked him for so earnestly ; and verse 
 by verse the praper slipped off her lips. 
 
 Then she rose quietly and laid the sleep- 
 ing child on the bed in the next room, pass- 
 ing as she went the little one's crib which 
 stood near a door leading into the kitchen. 
 Usually, in fact always, that was Mary's 
 napping place, but this morning Mrs. Mor- 
 row went right by it without knowing why. 
 For a moment she stood watching her 
 baby as it lay quietly sleeping with just 
 the shadow of a smile across its lips. 
 Surely God was good to her, and in her 
 heart she framed a prayer of gratitude as 
 she thought of her two wonderful children, 
 her splendid husband, and the home that 
 sheltered them all. 
 
 Now for many, many things that still 
 awaited her capable hands. Happily, Mrs. 
 Morrow went back into the kitchen and 
 proceeded to open carefully the oven door. 
 With the first whiff of air that entered, the 
 burning grease, and even the pan that con- 
 tained it, shot out onto the kitchen floor. 
 
St. Anthony — A Life Saver, 
 
 83 
 
 Instantly the room was in a blaze. Walls 
 and ceilings were great splotches ' of fire 
 and grease. The door in the living-room 
 was blown open and the pillow in the 
 empty baby-crib caught the flame. 
 
 Just then Mr. Morrow, coming across 
 the yard, saw the ominous glare and 
 rushed to the door, only to see his wife 
 dazed and motionless in the midst of the 
 fire. 
 
 When the flames had been extinguished 
 and the havoc could be more plainly seen, 
 Saint Anthony's power shone clearly forth. 
 Mrs. Morrow was untouched, not so much 
 as a spot of grease stained her clothing; 
 and the baby had been saved by being laid 
 upon the bed. 
 
 Sister Joachim handed the papers back 
 with a smile. "That was a wonderful es- 
 cape," she said. "I should think she could 
 tell now just how the three youths felt in 
 the fiery furnace." 
 
 "And Father David knows her, too," 
 said Sister Salome. "She is a friend of his. 
 When we hear of such things, how can we 
 ever falter in our trust 
 
XIII. 
 
 feaint antjonp anti jflDur €omm\xnitii 
 
 "CISTER SALOME, why don't you 
 ^ make your last Saint Anthony story 
 a Community affair? I heard two of the 
 Sisters discussing a remarkable thing this 
 morning, and it just occurred to me that 
 many of the other Sisters have had favors 
 done to them, too," said Sister Joachim 
 as the two met on the back stairs. 
 
 "That's a fine idea," answered Sister Sa- 
 lome heartily, "but do you suppose they 
 would tell their own experiences for publi- 
 cation?" 
 
 "Try them, try them," urged Sister 
 Joachim who had been doing some recon- 
 noitering on the subject. 
 
 "I believe I will," replied Sister Salome 
 but she did not sound very enthusiastic. 
 Sisters did not like to have their affairs in 
 print. But "it's all for a good cause" she 
 thought as she entered the Infirmary to 
 visit Sister Irene. Sister Irene had had 
 some sort of a stroke but she was so cheery 
 and patient, it was a tonic to spend five 
 minutes with her. As luck would have it, 
 the Infirmarian was there, too, and she 
 was famous for her stories, so Sister Sa- 
 
Saint Anthony and Our Community, 85 
 
 lome at once began in her most persuasive 
 tone. 
 
 "Sister Ambrose, please tell me a real 
 Saint Anthony story. Something he did 
 for you, you know." 
 
 But Sister Ambrose did not respond as 
 she was supposed to do. On the contrary, 
 she looked severely at Sister Salome and 
 remarked : 
 
 "Indeed, then, Til give you no Saint 
 Anthony story. Not if I had a whole field 
 full, I wouldn't," she went on. "I gave 
 you an authentic Saint Joseph story a long 
 while ago and you never wrote it." And 
 from that position of defense of her patron 
 Saint, Sister Ambrose could not be moved. 
 The invalid and the culprit laughed to- 
 gether. The latter had a guilty conscience, 
 for she knew Sister Ambrose had justice 
 on her side; and moreover she was very 
 fond of the Infirmarian and so could afford 
 to laugh at her. But to tell the truth, the 
 laugh was mostly on herself. 
 
 A little later in the morning she met 
 Sister Estelle by whom she was accosted. 
 "I hear you want some incidents. I have 
 this one for you," and Sister Estelle told 
 about something that happened when she 
 was a little girl. 
 
'86 The Ways of St. Anthony, 
 
 "1 remember going home from school 
 one day/' she said, "and being met at the 
 door by my mother. She was very much 
 distressed and she told me to go right back 
 to the church and pray to Saint Anthony 
 to recover my father's horse and wagon 
 which had been stolen. I was horror- 
 stricken at such a loss and I very willingly 
 went. I remember my mother gave me a 
 banana to eat on the way. Isn't it funny 
 how little things like that stick in the 
 mind.^" and Sister Estelle smiled at the 
 recollection. "I suppose I'll remember the 
 banana when I've forgotten all about the 
 horse." 
 
 "Did you get it back.^" asked Sister Sa- 
 lome. 
 
 "Yes, I made a promise to Saint An- 
 thony for his Bread Fund and said some 
 prayers ; and then I went home again. 
 But mother kept on praying most of the 
 evening. We all felt very bad, and father 
 was quite upset. We went to bed a very 
 blue family ; and what do you think .^^ The 
 next morning at five o'clock the horse and 
 wagon were found tied to our hitching 
 post. One of the neighbors saw them first 
 and ran over and wakened the family to 
 tell us of it." 
 
Saint Anthony and Our Community. 87 
 
 "That was wonderful," said Sister Sa- 
 lome. "Where do you suppose they came 
 from?" 
 
 "We never knew," answered Sister Es- 
 telle; "but my father always thought 
 either someone just borrowed them for 
 some reason and then returned them; or 
 if a thief took them, he got conscience 
 struck and brought them back when no 
 one could see him." 
 
 "That will make a fine beginning," said 
 Sister Salome. "Thank you very much," 
 and she started off to find Sister Celestine 
 who was generally in the Community at 
 that hour. She had heard Sister Celes- 
 tine's story some time before but had for- 
 gotten the particulars; and it was only 
 after she had threatened to make up those 
 parts, that Sister Celestine, in self-defense 
 began : 
 
 "It was one day when two Postulants 
 were received. Each one wore a beautiful 
 neckchain which had been loaned to com- 
 plete the bridal costume. When they went 
 into the fore-choir to put on their habits, 
 the Mistress of Novices handed me the 
 chains to care for until they could be re- 
 turned to their owners. I didn't like the 
 trust very much; but I took them and 
 
88 The Ways of St. Anthony, 
 
 tied them both in a clean handkerchief, 
 thinking they would be safe there. After 
 the ceremony I met some friends and we 
 went all over the house and lawns. It 
 was a beautiful day so we walked more 
 than usual for me, and I didn't get in until 
 the Angelus rang. I stopped long enough 
 to say it just in:>ide the children's refectory 
 door, and then went on in to supper. After 
 I had finished eating I pulled my rosary 
 out of my pocket hoping to say a few 
 decades before the meal was done, when 
 to my surprise and horror, I found one of 
 those chains wound around my rosary. 
 My heart almost stopped beating. Where 
 was the other I assure you I began to 
 pray, and I searched by pockets but the 
 handkerchief was empty and the necklace 
 was gone. Hurriedly I asked permission 
 to leave; but I w^as distracted, and I did 
 not know where to go first. I begged Saint 
 Anthony to direct me to the place where 
 the necklace was and then I started out 
 to retrace my afternoon travels. As I 
 passed the children's refectory door, Sister 
 Irene was just getting ready to serve the 
 boarders, and she ignored me when I 
 stopped to ask if she had seen the missing 
 article. But as I turned to go something 
 
Saint Anthony and Our Community. 89 
 
 bright in the corner caught my eye. I 
 had not been near that corner but I went 
 over and picked up the necklace. If it 
 had been anywhere else on the floor it 
 would have been trampled on, but as it 
 was, it was unharmed. Now/' finished 
 Sister Celestine, ''that is my Saint An- 
 thony story." 
 
 ''Thank you very much/' replied Sister 
 Salome. "I am glad I didn't have to make 
 up the parts, as I threatened. Yours are 
 much better." 
 
 "See that you use them then," was Sis- 
 ter Celestine's parking shot as Sister Sa- 
 lome started after Sister Angelica, whose 
 step she had heard iu the corridor. Sister 
 Angelica had stopped to speak to Sister 
 Margaret about the lights, so Sister Sa- 
 lome thought this was her chance to kill 
 two birds with one stone. 
 
 "Anything remarkable from Saint An- 
 thony in this congregation," she began as 
 she drew near; "any real live favors from 
 the Wonder-worker.^" 
 
 Little Sister Angelica's French eyes 
 sparkled. "I sent my mother clothes and 
 money all during the war, and I always 
 put a picture of Saint Anthony in each 
 parcel and nothing was ever lost." The 
 
DO 
 
 The Ways of St. Anthony, 
 
 dear little Nun was an exile, and the War 
 had been very hard on her family in 
 France, so her gratitude to the dear Fran- 
 ciscan Saint was boundless. "I pray to 
 him every day," she added. 
 
 "My tale is a very homely one," said 
 Sister Margaret. "One morning I was 
 getting breakfast and after the hash was 
 made I w^ent out to the back kitchen to 
 clean the chopping machine. As I passed 
 the table I picked up a platter with onion 
 peels and scraps on it and thought I'd burn 
 them, so I laid the parts of the chopper 
 on the platter to carry them back. There 
 was a big fire in the range and I scraped 
 the refuse in and went on about my work. 
 In a few moments I remembered about 
 the chopper and wanted to put it together 
 so I could set it away ; but I couldn't make 
 it fit and then I discovered that the screw 
 was gone. I looked everywhere for it, and 
 finally began to pray to Saint Anthony. 
 Then I remembered about burning the 
 refuse and I opened the door of the range 
 and poked up the coals. Saint Anthony 
 was certainly taking care of that screw, 
 for there it was, red hot, but there. Maybe 
 I wasn't glad.^" 
 
 "You're a fraud, Sister Margaret/' said 
 
Saint Anthony and Our Community. 91 
 
 Sister Salome. "I don't know whether 
 that tale is about you and the hash, or 
 Saint Anthony and the screw " and she 
 went on to find Mother Annunciata who 
 would be sure to help her out. 
 
 Mother Annunciata was in her cell, 
 stirring about busily. "Why, of course. 
 Sister," she replied when asked for a Saint 
 Anthony favor, "V\l tell you about the 
 pins." 
 
 "That sounds interesting," said Sister 
 Salome. "You see this is the last Saint 
 Anthony story, the thirteenth of my prom- 
 ise, and I want it to be entirely about our 
 own Community. Don't you think that 
 will be nice. Mother.^" 
 
 "Indeed, I do," was the hearty response, 
 "and I'll do my part. This is my story. 
 One time, when I had charge of the chil- 
 dren I sent for eighteen school pins for 
 different girls who wanted them. When 
 they came, the sealed parcel was given 
 to me at recreation with the other mail. 
 I opened the box and counted them and 
 finding eighteen, put the box in my pocket 
 and went to prayers. They were very tiny 
 pins and I remember wondering that any 
 one should be willing to pay the price they 
 cost. After prayers I sat down at my table 
 
92 The Ways of St. Anthony. 
 
 to read the mail and I laid the box before 
 me. Then I went to bed. The next day 
 when I went to give the children their 
 pins, I discovered one was missing. I 
 looked everywhere for it and prayed and 
 prayed to Saint Anthony. I was much 
 distressed, for I feared it had been stolen 
 and I hated to think that. That evening 
 at five o'clock we had an extra study-hour 
 and I presided. I said my Office as I sat 
 there, and before I began I made a strong 
 appeal to Saint Anthony to let me know 
 where the missing pin could be. Then I 
 got bolder and I said: ^Now, Saint An- 
 thony, the six Sundays to Saint Aloysius 
 begin tomorrow, and if I do not find that 
 pin ril stop praying to you and ask him to 
 get it for me.' When I had finished my 
 Office I closed the book and slipped it into 
 my pocket. As I did so, my hand struck 
 something stiff. I could not imagine what 
 it could be so I drew it out and there was 
 the heavy paper in which the box had been 
 wTapped, with that little pin inside it. 
 Saint Anthony did not want to lose his 
 title of finder of lost things to Saint 
 Aloysius." 
 
 "That is a splendid story. Mother An- 
 nunciata," said Sister Salome. "I don't 
 
Saint Anthony and Our Community. 93 
 
 think we can say Saint Anthony has 
 sUghted our household, can we?" 
 
 "No, dear, I don't think we can," repUed 
 the older Nun. "If you need any more 
 you might ask Sister Cordula," she added 
 as Sister Salome got up to go. 
 
 "That is where I am going now," was 
 the answer, and she went down the cor- 
 ridor and knocked on Sister Cordula's 
 door. 
 
 "Come in," was Sister Cordula's greet- 
 ing. "Come in. Sister Salome," and Sister 
 Salome forthwith did. 
 
 "Sister Cordula, do you know anything 
 about Saint Anthony.^" she asked as she 
 sat down on the proffered chair. 
 
 "Saint Anthony is a fine man now," in- 
 stantly replied Sister Cordula. 
 
 "Why, Sister Cordula.? What did he 
 ever do for you.?" asked Sister Salome in- 
 sinuatingly. "Anything wonderful.?" 
 
 "He found my brass key," was the an- 
 swer. "One time when I had charge of 
 the Priest's house, the Retreat Priest 
 locked the door when he left and took the 
 key with him. The Bishop was coming 
 the next day and I couldn't get in so I told 
 Saint Anthony he'd have to find it for me 
 and I promised him a Holy Communion. 
 
94 
 
 The Ways of St. Anthony. 
 
 Then I tried a key 1 had tried over and 
 over again and it turned the lock at once." 
 
 Sister Salome was disappointed. She 
 couldn't put Sister Cordula's brown eyes 
 and her quaint little Irish manner on 
 paper, and she knew the stor}^ wasn't 
 ended. 
 
 ''How did the key turn up.^" she ques- 
 tioned. 
 
 ''Well/' said Sister Cordula, with a com- 
 ical little nod. "I went to Mother Su- 
 perior and told her I must have my key 
 back, and she said I'd never get it: the 
 Priest would never pxt a thought to an 
 old brass key. I said: 'Saint Anthony 
 can make him shake out his pockets and 
 give me my key back;' but she only 
 laughed. So I went off but I prayed every 
 day for I was determined to have my key. 
 One day after about five or six weeks it 
 came. It was in the mail and it was ad- 
 dressed to Sister Cordula. 'There,' says I, 
 'didn't I say Saint Anthony would make 
 him shake out his pockets.^ And isn't he 
 a fine man now^^' " . . . . 
 
 "How did you get along. ^" asked Sister 
 Joachim when Sister Salome appeared 
 once more in the Community. 
 
 "\A'hy, I'll read you what I've written 
 
Saint Anthony and Our Community, 95 
 
 just as soon as I put in my own experience 
 about the telegram," answered Sister Sa- 
 lome sitting down by the table. 
 
 "What was it? I don't think I ever 
 heard it/' said Sister Joachim. 
 
 "Oh, yes, you did," replied Sister Sa- 
 lome. "Don't you remember the time my 
 nephew, John, was in Washington on busi- 
 ness, and I had to get a message to him 
 before he started back.^ I was so late I 
 was afraid to send it to his business ad- 
 dress for fear he had left there, and I was 
 almost equally afraid to entrust it to the 
 care of the Conductor of the train. It 
 seemed so useless to waste the money on 
 both, so finally I promised the price of one 
 to Saint Anthony for his Bread Fund if he 
 would see that John got the other. Then 
 I telegraphed in care of the Conductor, 
 having got the number of the train from 
 our office here. The next day when John 
 arrived I happened to say something 
 about the telegram. ^Do you know, that 
 was the queerest thing .^' he said. T had 
 just settled my belongings in the Pullman 
 and was sauntering into the smoker when 
 I saw a messenger boy come down the 
 platform. He spoke to the Conductor who 
 was standing there and showed him a tele- 
 
96 
 
 The Ways of St. Anthony, 
 
 gram. The Conductor read the address 
 and shook his head in the negative, so the 
 boy started away. The thought flashed 
 across my mind that maybe the message 
 was for me, so I stepped to the platform, 
 called the boy, and asked if he had a tele- 
 gram for me. 'I have one for Mr. Brad- 
 ford,' he answered. Well, Fm the man,' 
 said I, 'and that's how I got your mesage.' 
 Saint Anthony made just one dollar and 
 thirty-five cents on that telegram," went 
 on Sister Salome. '^He believes in saving 
 the pennies and letting the pounds take 
 care of themselves, evidently." 
 
 There was silence for a little while, 
 broken only by the scratching of Sister 
 Salome's pencil. Then she looked up. 
 
 "Do you know. Sister Joachim," she 
 said as she straightened out her papers, 
 ''I certainly am glad I made this promise 
 to Saint Anthony. He has taught me 
 many things I needed to learn. I trust 
 he has increased the confidence of others 
 as he has mine." 
 
 "I've learned some things myself," an- 
 swered Sister Joachim. "But what are 
 }^ou going to do next for 'the dear Francis- 
 can Saint' as you call him.^" 
 
 Sister Salome smiled.