Sunday, January 12th, your correspondent attended "solemn high mass" at St. Patrick's church in this city in which "cardinal's day" as instructed by "Card." Jim Gibbons some eight years ago was celebrated with customary Catholic pomp and mummery. The wily James (surnamed in the inner circles of the "faithful," "Slippery,") appeared in his role of "prince of the blood." At his annual New Year "reception" to distinguished Washintonians held after mass, in the new Carroll hall ( in St. Patrick's Academy), the oily old "cardinal" offered me his apostolic ring to kiss---but someway I failed to connect with the proffered opportunity, but as he clasped me by the hand I heard his tired voice mutter in somewhat bored tones, "God bless you!" I couldn't escape that, and now I know that if that sanctimonious blessing "sticks" I will be busy dodging misfortunes till the hoodoo is removed!

Promptly at 11 o'clock the procession of priests, choir boys and acolytes left the door of the "rectory" and marched to the front doors of St. Patrick's church,

which is located at 10th and G streets, N. W. As they continued their slow-drag up the center aisle, I was standing beside the aisle in the back of the church. At the very end of the procession came the ancient but crafty "cardinal." As he passed, I could have touched his red robe with my hand. But I did not! Yet seriously, I shall never forget that first

glance, that first time that my eyes rested on the face of Gibbons. Involuntarily I shuddered---the face was that of a mummy---never before have I seen such an uncanny color, a grayish brown penciled by the ruthless hand of Time, together with untold religious

"celebrations," with countless lines and crow's-feet. Upon the cadaverous skull over which the parchment-like skin was stretched tightly, bobbed in ghastly jauntiness that vaunted, red cap. Behind trotted the small-boy satellites obediently carrying the long red train that trailed from that significantly-scarlet mother-hubbard!

A few minutes afterward, just at the close of the "Gloria" I succeeded in obtaining a seat in a front pew. Curiously I gazed over the assembled crowd, seeking vainly for the uniformed ranks of the valiant Knights of Columbus---none were there, that is, not in uniform or officially. Knowing that most pressing invitations had been sent to the Diplomatic Corps, to the President's Cabinet, as well as to various other government officials, I carefully scanned the audience again, but to no avail---all such officials were conspicuous by their absence!

Evidently they have taken the hint---the messages of The Menace have not been in vain, and this on "cardinal's day!" In fact this whole affair impressed me with a vague conviction that even the Romish matters themselves have decided that the time is not ripe for further repetition of the blatant military defiances that they have previously mingled with their "celebrations."

Even President Taft was absent!

All before us the chancel of the church was gay with flowers, above which a thousand candles twinkled about the high altar. The body of the church blazed with decorations in "cardinal's red" upon a background of evergreens. As I sat facing the altar my attention was arrested by a figure of Christ hanging on a wooden cross on the wall at the left side of the chancel opening, the figure was nearly life-size and modeled of clay. Beyond this in a pulpit chair sat the oily "Monseignor" Russell, the priest

in charge of St. Patrick's, who will be remembered by Menace readers on account of his imaginative offer of a thousand dollars for "proof" of anything traitorous about Catholic vows! Yes, dear reader, personally he is just as you had pictured him, typical, fat-jowled, thick-necked, and-bald headed!

Priest Russell sat at the right of the red-canopied throne wherein preached Gibbons in ape-like gravity. As the monotonous and drearily intoned service crept slowly along, the little mummified features wore a distinctly bored expression.

Then suddenly a priest's form shot into sight in the raised box at the right of the chancel which serves as the Catholic pulpit. In fact, having been busy with my own thoughts as I gazed across the few feet of space that separated me from "his eminence," J. Card., I was rather surprised, the effect was something like an appearance of some fat Jack-in-the-box. This was no other than priest William Martin, of St. Patrick's Cathedral, of New York, whose "sermon" proved to be the usual Romish vaporings about the general kingliness and all around superiority of Roman Catholics in general and particularly their superiority as citizens of every known government, and of this Republic especially. One outburst was marked refreshing---he informed us that "When the impending struggle comes you will find on the one side Catholicism and Catholic authority, united, unbroken, unshattered---on the other all the factions of the opposition, disorganized, divided, fighting among themselves; and then---(here caution overcome his courage and he changed the evident thing he wanted to say,) ---why then we will give them the body and blood of Jesus Christ!"

And Priest Martin did not forget to make the usual Romish appeal to the laborers and by innuendo scathingly denounce all who would seek to unite the

laborers or furnish them any uplift outside the "most holy church"---here is a sample---verbatim---"I have heard it said sneeringly that the objection to the Catholic church is that its membership is composed of those in the lower walks of life---the laborers. That is one of the reasons why I am proud of the Catholics. The membership is composed of the bone and sinew of humanity and will last until the end of the world!"

At the close of the "high mass" the choir boys, acolytes and priests paraded in procession from the church to Carroll Hall and stood behind J. Card. and "Mgr." Russell during the reception, during which at a conservative estimate three thousand men, women and children kissed the "cardinal's ring" on that withered, claw-like finger that was graciously extended to them that they might thus signify submission to this "prince" of a foreign ruler!

Nevertheless, both Gibbons and Russel agreed afterward that "cardinal's day" was a dismal failure this time!

After this "reception" Russel, the pseudo-"monsignor," gave a banquet at the "rectory" (priest's house) at which he was toast-master. This Romish feed was graced by the presence of a member of the smaller fry of the camp-followers of the hierarchy and a member of the "faithful."

Gibbon's laughably lame speech of "New Year's Greetings" was responded to by Champ (Speaker) Clark, of Missouri, Senator Bacon, Uncle Joe Cannon, and Commissioner Rudolph. But if you are a puppet what can you do when the red-robed master pulls the string but wiggle in obedience?

Among other puppets who reverently toddled down to this wily if unsavory priest's house to do some obeisance to this red-caped and mummified member of the Romish hierarchy where Chief Justice White, (of course), Justice McKenna, Justice Lurton, Judge Martin

Knapp, of the Commerce Court; Chief Justice Clabaugh, of the District Supreme Court; and Justices Gould and Anderson; ---Senator Bacon, of Georgia; Curtis, of Kansas; Swanson, of Virginia; Jones, of Washington; Paynter, of Kentucky; Pomerene, of Ohio; Ashurst, of Arizona; Congressman Joseph A. Golden, Chas. V. Fornes, J. Fitzgerald, W. J. Carey, Benjamin Johnson, Albert Burleson, Joseph E. Ramsdell, Henry M. Goldfogle, Geo. F. O'Shannessy, W. F. Murray, Robert F. Broussard, N. E. Kendall, A. Pujo, A. Estopinal, Rear Admiral Potts, Gen. Torney, Gen. J. J. O'Connell, Col. Spencer Cosby, Charles P. Neil, Commissioner of Labor, James L. Davenport, Commissioner of Pensions, John Barrett, Director Pan-American Union, Judge (?) De Lacy, Judge Wallace, Gen. Robert Wynne, John Hays Hammond, Major Sylvester, (Chief of Police, Washington), and a score of others. Absent---not accounted for----William Howard Taft, et al.

Chapter 17