Pay is the first condition of a priest In Asia, Africa, America, Or where you will. Ah yes, if he were free, My dear young friend, I willingly agree, The thing might pass; but, being pledged and bound, He’ll scarcely find the venture very sound. Reflect, he’s young and vigorous, sure to found A little family in time; assume his will To be the very best on earth—but still The _means_, my friend—? ‘Build not upon the sand,’ Says Scripture. If, upon the other hand, The Offering— FALK. That’s no trifle, I’m aware. STRAWMAN. Ah, come—that wholly alters the affair. When men are zealous in their Offering, And liberal— FALK. There he far surpasses most. STRAWMAN. “He” say you? How? In virtue of his post The Offering is not what he has to _bring_ But what he has to _get_. MRS. STRAWMAN [_looking towards the background_]. They’re sitting there. FALK [_after staring a moment in amazement, suddenly understands and bursts out laughing_]. Hurrah for Offerings—the ones that caper And strut—on Holy-days—in bulging paper! STRAWMAN. All the year round the curb and bit we bear, But Whitsuntide and Christmas make things square. FALK [_gaily_]. Why then, provided only there’s enough of it, Even family-founders will obey their Calls. STRAWMAN. Of course; a man assured the _quantum suff_ of it Will preach the Gospel to the cannibals. [_Sotto voce._ Now I must see if she cannot be led, [_To one of the little girls._ My little Mattie, fetch me out my head— My pipe-head I should say, my little dear— [_Feels in his coat-tail pocket._ Nay, wait a moment tho’: I have it here. [_Goes across and fills his pipe, followed by his wife and children._ GULDSTAD [_approaching_]. You seem to play the part of serpent in This paradise of lovers. FALK. O, the pips Upon the tree of knowledge are too green To be a lure for anybody’s lips. [_To_ LIND, _who comes in from the right._ Ha, Lind! LIND.