"
"Of course YOU can do that," observed the Goblin. "Now, I can only
appear to people after they have had a heavy supper of indigestible
things. My opportunities with the vergeress would be limited.
There is some advantage in being a saint after all."
All this while the coin was lying at the Saint's feet. It was clean
and glittering and had the Elector's arms beautifully stamped upon
it. The Saint began to reflect that such an opportunity was too
rare to be hastily disposed of. Perhaps indiscriminate charity
might be harmful to the church mice. After all, it was their
function to be poor; the Goblin had said so, and the Goblin was
generally right.
"I've been thinking," he said to that personage, "that perhaps it
would be really better if I ordered a thaler's worth of candles to
be placed on my shrine instead of the corn."
He often wished, for the look of the thing, that people would
sometimes burn candles at his shrine; but as they had forgotten who
he was it was not considered a profitable speculation to pay him
that attention.
"Candles would be more orthodox," said the Goblin.
"More orthodox, certainly," agreed the Saint, "and the mice could
have the ends to eat; candle-ends are most fattening."
The Goblin was too well bred to wink; besides, being a stone goblin,
it was out of the question.
* * *
"Well, if it ain't there, sure enough!" said the vergeress next
morning. She took the shining coin down from the dusty niche and
turned it over and over in her grimy hands.
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