How the sectaries will dispose of the Manatitlan method of perfecting their children in loving affection cannot be solved by anticipation. But my household has been “blessed” with a partial solution of the Catholic method that will be adopted, by a demonstrative denunciation of you and your Manatitlan exemplars as infernal innovators, by your old “friend” Padre Molinero. Forgetting in his wrathful displeasure that anathemas were vicarious oaths in fiendish transposition for priestly cursing, he dispensed them freely for the final disposal of all innovators, and in personal designation included those that I hold most dear in my affectionate esteem. With a self-control, that made me feel for a moment exultant, in view of my former frailties of temper, I coolly reminded him of the formulistic rites established by society for association; assuring him that I should sustain the sanctuary privileges, and stable rights of my roof, recognized by civilized humanity, against the intrusion of any and all persons refusing to hold themselves amenable to the unobtrusive rules of instinctive propriety. This admonition so enraged him, that his malignant intolerance burst forth in demoniacal ebullition, heedless of my direct hints that he was overstepping the limits of patient endurance. But as he continued to inveigh, I with authority withheld his further speech, with a determination that overawed him, and then, while directing his way to the outer gates, stated in plain terms my desire to hear him express a determination to absent himself from my house henceforth and forever. This final ultimatum, after years of undisputed sway, caused his former expression of vengeful hate to appear, in comparison, like the mild gleams of summer electricity, in contrast with the fierce flashes uttered with the deep mutterings of the full charged thunder cloud. Indeed, when the portera discharged him with her absolution, his visage became visibly expanded with a toadish expression of ire, and his throat with a sack constriction resembling the cobra’s when about to strike for venomed injection. Failing in speech to intimidate, he had recourse to the fierce ritually crossings of excommunication, which formerly caused kings and emperors to tremble with instinctive fear. This impotent effort must have summoned to my face a contemptuous expression, for Teudschen, the portera, made a significant gesture of questioning inquiry with her foot, as he passed over the threshold, which I negatived with a decisive shake of the head, else, I should now have to bear the stigma of sanctioning an act of celerity she was desirous of communicating to Padre Molinero to expedite his exit. Instead of denying her impulsive intention of rendering pedal acceleration to the padre’s outward movement, when I reproved her for the meditated unfeminine act, which in consummation would have given rise to great scandal, she innocently asked, “what else could a woman do when there was no broom handy?” Then she continued, in extenuation, “If men come into the houses of good peoples, dressed like women in petticoats, and don’t behave properly, as they ought, it’s right that they should be served by a woman as a man would treat them if he dared!” This Hibernic style of pleading, with its touch upon the mild nature and lack of decision in my exercise of authority, at once dispelled my ill humor; and I questioned her, whether as a good Lutheran she was familiar with the text that taught the returns that were to be made for despiteful treatment? After a little thoughtful hesitation, she said, “I don’t exactly remember, but I believe they were kicked out of the house.” This answer closed my catechismal interview, but however remote its orthodoxy was from the inculcation of the text, its validity was loyal in the sound doctrinal expression of instinct. For the humorous method of Teudschen’s style of speaking, with the broken wabbling tones of her voice, in variation from Low Dutch guttural to the harsh grating rasp of High German, I will refer you to your memory of the gratification you derived from conversing with her. Leaving the patio with my feelings of anger unruffled by Teudschen’s patriotic simplicity, which had long been aggravated by Padre Molinero’s French sympathies, I returned falteringly to the salon, fearing that the mother of my children might view the expulsion of her confessor as an unpardonable sin; still I could not help congratulating myself upon the manner in which I had rid my household of the traitorous fomenter of misrule and family discord.