"That's fine language for a sexton," commented Cass Dale. "I'd be ashamed to swear like that, I would. You wouldn't hear my father swear like that. My father's a local preacher."
"Does he kiss the Pope's toe? My gosh, if the Pope asked me to kiss his toe, I'd soon tell him to kiss something else, I would."
"My father doesn't kiss the Pope's toe," said Mark.
"I reckon he does then," Cass replied. "Passon Trehawke don't though. Passon Trehawke's some fine old chap. My father said he'd lev me go church of a morning sometimes if I'd a mind. My father belongs to come himself to the Harvest Home, but my granfa never came to church at all so long as he was alive. 'Time enough when I'm dead for that' he used to say. He was a big man down to the Chapel, my granfa was. Mostly when he did preach the maids would start screeching, so I've heard tell. But he were too old for preaching when I knawed 'un."
"My grandfather is the priest here," said Mark.
"There isn't no priest to Nancepean. Only Passon Trehawke."
"Is it, by gosh? Well, why for do 'ee call him a priest? He isn't a priest."
"I say he isn't then. A parson isn't a priest. When I'm grown up I'm going to be a minister. What are you going to be?"
Mark had for some time past intended to be a keeper at the Zoological Gardens, but after his adventure with the wild beast in the thicket and this encounter with the self-confident Cass Dale he decided that he would not be a keeper but a parson. He informed Cass of his intention.
"Well, if you're a parson and I'm a minister," said Cass, "I'll bet everyone comes to listen to me preaching and none of 'em don't go to hear you."
"I wouldn't care if they didn't," Mark affirmed.
"You wouldn't care if you had to preach to a parcel of empty chairs and benches?" exclaimed Cass.
"St. Francis preached to the trees," said Mark. "And St. Anthony preached to the fishes."
"They must have been a couple of loonies."
"Saints, were they? Well, my father doesn't think much of saints. My father says he reckons saints is the same as other people, only a bit worse if anything. Are you saved?"
"Why, from Hell of course. What else would you be saved from?"
"You might be saved from a wild beast," Mark pointed out. "I saw a wild beast this morning. A wild beast with a long nose and a sort of grey colour."