"Pardon me, Sister Sipa," interrupted Rufa, "they must be recited in the other way. You mustn't mix up males and females. The paternosters are males, the Ave Marias are females, and the Gloria Patris are the children." "Eh? Excuse me, Sister Rufa: paternoster, Ave Maria, and Gloria are like rice, meat, and sauce--a mouthful for the saints--" "You're wrong! You'll see, for you who pray that way will never get what you ask for." "And you who pray the other way won't get anything from your novenas," replied old Sipa. "Who won't?" asked Rufa, rising. "A short time ago I lost a little pig, I prayed to St. Anthony and found it, and then I sold it for a good price. _Abá!_" "Yes? Then that's why one of your neighbors was saying that you sold a pig of hers." "Who? The shameless one! Perhaps I'm like you--" Here the expert had to interfere to restore peace, for no one was thinking any more about paternosters--the talk was all about pigs. "Come, come, there mustn't be any quarrel over a pig, Sisters! The Holy Scriptures give us an example to follow. The heretics and Protestants didn't quarrel with Our Lord for driving into the water a herd of swine that belonged to them, and we that are Christians and besides, Brethren of the Holy Rosary, shall we have hard words on account of a little pig! What would our rivals, the Tertiary Brethren, say?" All became silent before such wisdom, at the same time fearing what the Tertiary Brethren might say. The expert, well satisfied with such acquiescence, changed his tone and continued: "Soon the curate will send for us. We must tell him which preacher we've chosen of the three that he suggested yesterday, whether Padre Damaso, Padre Martin, or the coadjutor. I don't know whether the Tertiary Brethren have yet made any choice, so we must decide." "The coadjutor," murmured Juana timidly. "Ahem! The coadjutor doesn't know how to preach," declared Sipa. "Padre Martin is better." "Padre Martin!" exclaimed another disdainfully. "He hasn't any voice. Padre Damaso would be better." "That's right!" cried Rufa. "Padre Damaso surely does know how to preach! He looks like a comedian!" "But we don't understand him," murmured Juana. "Because he's very deep! And as he preaches well--" This speech was interrupted by the arrival of Sisa, who was carrying a basket on her head. She saluted the Sisters and went on up the stairway.