she expelled matter such as is left by a deer, and these are the hardest substances that any gizzard produces, as you must know, if you have ever put your foot upon them in the forest glade, and from their hardness they are called bullets in the language of forestry.  This peculiarity of Sister Petronille’s was not unnatural, since long fasts kept her temperament at a permanent heat.  According to the old sisters, her nature was so burning, that when water touched her, she went frist! like a hot coal.  There are sisters who have accused her of secretly cooking eggs, in the night, between her toes, in order to support her austerities.  But these were scandals, invented to tarnish this great sanctity of which all the other nunneries were jealous.  Our sister was piloted in the way of salvation and divine perfection by the Abbot of St. Germaine-des-Pres de Paris—­a holy man, who always finished his Injunctions with a last one, which was to offer to God all our troubles, and submit ourselves to His will, since nothing happened without His express commandment.  This doctrine, which appears wise at first sight, has furnished matter for great controversies, and has been finally condemned on the statement of the Cardinal of Chatillon, who declared that then there would be no such thing as sin, which would considerably diminish the revenues of the Church.  But Sister Petronille lived imbued with this feeling, without knowing the danger of it.  After Lent, and the fasts of the great jubilee, for the first time for eight months she had need to go to the little room, and to it she went.  There, bravely lifting her dress, she put herself into a position to do that which we poor sinners do rather oftener.  But Sister Petronille could only manage to expectorate the commencement of the thing, which kept her puffing without the remainder making up its mind to follow.  In spite of every effort, pursing of the lips and squeezing of body, her guest preferred to remain in her blessed body, merely putting his head out of the window, like a frog taking the air, and felt no inclination to fall into the vale of misery among the others, alleging that he would not be there in the odour of sanctity.  And his idea was a good one for a simple lump of dirt like himself.  The good saint having used all methods of coercion, having overstretched her muscles, and tried the nerves of her thin face till they bulged out, recognised the fact that no suffering in the world was so great, and her anguish attaining the apogee of sphincterial terrors, she exclaimed, ‘Oh! my God, to Thee I offer it!’ At this orison, the stoney matter broke off short, and fell like a flint against the wall of the privy, making a croc, croc, crooc, paf!  You can easily understand, my sisters, that she had no need of a torch-cul, and drew back the remainder.”

“Then did she see angels?” asked one.

“Have they a behind?” asked another.

“Certainly not,” said Ursula.  “Do you not know that one general meeting day, God having ordered them to be seated, they answered Him that they had not the wherewithal.”