A Choice of Sins
By DAVID ROBERTS
WE had Congregationalists, Baptists, Methodists, some Roman Catholics and the Church of Wales in our village. They agreed very little with each other on either the temporal or eternal planes; they agreed only in not permitting alcohol as a solvent of their griefs, but the Church of Wales atoned with afternoon tea. almost as though it were the Church of England. My `friend Hugh Brodwell was Church of. England; we heard his mother say so on his first day at school, and it seemed very mild and exotic. Mrs. Brodwell was vast and imposing as St. David's Cathedral, only no one raised any funds for her except Mr. Brodwell, who was always digging in the garden. People'who knew said that this was what the Englishmen did.
Mrs: Brodwell often talked to me about England; I sat at her feet like Millais's boy while she pointed in that direction. She was keen on the Church of England, where she said' boys could learn manners. Mr. Brodwell used to tramp in from the garden with the mud clinging to him, and I never knew whether her distaste was due to his lack of manners, or to the fact that it was the soil of Wales.
Hugh and I were only children, which accounted for our parents' friendship. We were often taken out together, and at Christmas Mrs. Brodwell said she would take-us both to the bazaar at Williamson's, the Selfridges of Wales. This year, in addition to Father Christmas, there was a Moham- medan; a startling event, and one that had been the cause of some uncharitable sermons from all denominations. We were wild to see him; it was said that he could talk to snakes, and that at night Williamson's put him back into the big, dark bottle in their window that had a prize offered for a correct guess as to its contents.
Mrs. Brodwell tried to put the accent on Father Christmas, but Hugh and I towed her massively into, the presence of the Mohammedan. He was standing on a small dais, in the middle of the toy fair, surrounded by cobras and a python. He wore a fez and splendidly embroidered galabiyeh and although Mrs. Brodwell did not approve of this, she was mollified by the absence of a Welsh accent in the soft tones in which he addressed the reptiles. From time to time he also spoke to the audience, and his subject was comparative religion. Only those close to him could hear, and they were SO accustomed to attacks on the Congregationalists, or the Baptists, or the Romans, that it was some time before they realised that he was attacking all of them. Mrs. Brodwel was the first to do so. and she rebuked him in a loud void because he said the founder of Christianity took wine, whidi was very wrong of him. He answered her by producing I Bible and reading the account of the wedding at Canaan' Water,' he said, or sherbet, is more suitable for a Moslem wedding' Sherbet,' echoed Hugh: Iss all wrong,' said Mrs. Lewis, Methodist, iss symboli6 wine only. ' What is " symbolic " please ? ' he asked. He had picked up a cobra and was stroking it. Non-alcoholic,' said Mrs. Lewis.
' Does not say that in your Holy Book,' he said. It was proper wine,' said.Mrs. Brodwell, ' but it was onli taken in moderation.' You say Our Lord made the water into wine, wine that had the sin of drunkenness in it: you say that and call your Christian lady,' said Mrs. Lewis. I am Church of England,' said Mrs. Brodwell. 1.111, Mohammedan had picked up several more cobras and wit wearing them as a necklace; the python was too large for thii and appeared restive.
Almost I spit in your face,' said. Mrs. Lewis. In your Holy Book it says forgiveness of, enemies,' sad the Mohammedan.
It says the Lord shall know his own,' said Mrs. Lewis. It says that many are called but few are chosen,' said MO Brodwell. I saw that the python had slid from the dais, and W01 attracted by Mrs. Brodwell; she might well have appeared attractive to a python. In your Holy Book are many wise sayings, but it sees0 you do not know what they mean,' said the Mohammedan. If the unrighteous advertise their error, how shall 0,4 heathen be converted ? ' said Mrs. Lewis, looking with regr° upon Mrs. Brodwell, an„cl with compassion upon the Mohaor medan. Mr. Lewis was far past the prime of life. In your religion,' said Mrs. Brodwell, a man may hart as many wives and concubines as he likes, and 'do as pleases with them; and your awful heaven is full of bad womel for good men, and it is all materialism and degradation, W0' no rights for women. When a woman is fat and no longet attractive she is sold in the market like a--heifer,' she said' unable to bring herself to say cow, •` and you attack Of religion because it permits us to take strong drink in modal' tion.' 1 Iss no alcohol permitted to a Christian,' said Mrs. Lewl5; It seems,' said the Mohammedan to Mrs. Brodwell. ` that the python likes you. He likes you very much. Sometime, instead of selling our old, fat women, we give them to tfil python. He is also a kind of God.' Mrs. Brodwell attempted to gesticulate, but found that hot! her arms were securely pinned down by the python's I had watched this taking place with the fascination that thesv, creatures invariably induce. She fainted, but remained uprig111 and rigid within the creature's embrace. Here is the Garden of Eden in Williamson's shop : Oat/ need search no longer,' said the Mohammedan, Iss judgement of Heaven rendered on drunkenness and sin,' said Mrs. Lewis, looking hopefully at the Mohammedan' l who, however, adopted a responsible attitude, and uncoilfy., the monster With a number of gestures and some well-chose' words. I shall certainly report you,' said Mrs. Brodwell, when sot had recovered.
Who will you report me to ? ' asked the Mohammedan' Yes,' said Mrs. Lewis, stroking the python, who will Y° report him to ? '
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