“Why should they? My brother, may his soul rest in peace! was a good man. God will look after him without any priest putting in his oar. Yes, it is true that the priests talk of purgatory, but for my part I have never well understood what it is, and I do not care. I say a prayer for my dead on All Souls’ Day, and there is an end of it. There may be purgatory, God knows. But certainly I will not pay money to a priest on that account. I want it more than he does.” The popular idea of purgatory is very confused, and many declare that they do not believe in it, while betraying in every word that they pray heartily for the souls that they assume to be there. “Do you think I could believe that my brother or my mother are in purgatory, or that _I_ shall go there, I, who would give the clothes off my back to the poor?” You cannot pay a greater compliment to a sceptic of this kind than to say: “By your good deed of this or that kind you have certainly taken a soul (or two souls) out of purgatory to-day.” “Taking souls out of purgatory” is a favourite occupation. It is effected by prayer or by good works, not necessarily, so far as the popular belief can be understood, by both practices together. “There are always seven souls clinging to the cloak of the Virgin--not the Virgin on any altar, but the real Virgin in heaven. They are all climbing up, one above the other, and by prayers or good works you can help the uppermost to get out and make room for the next.” “And where do they go then?” “I don’t know. To heaven, I suppose. Purgatory is not a very bad place to be in, it is pretty fair. The wicked people go to the _Tinieblas_ [tenebræ]. I do not know what that is, but it is very bad. It is always well to say a prayer for those in _Tinieblas_.” “But do you suppose that any of _your_ friends are there?” “No, indeed; but you never know who may be clinging to the robe of the Virgin, and some one belonging to you might just be climbing up. At least, nothing is lost by saying a prayer.” “If the souls in the _Tinieblas_ are allowed to cling to the Virgin, I suppose she also is there?” “How do I know? Perhaps these are all lies--things of priests [_mentiras, cosas de sacerdotes_]. What does it matter? What is needful is to share your _puchero_[5] with any poor man who is hungrier than you, and God knows I do that.”