Page 230 - dubliners

‘O, most people give some donation to the monastery
when they leave.’ said Mary Jane.
‘I wish we had an institution like that in our Church,’
said Mr. Browne candidly.
He was astonished to hear that the monks never spoke,
got up at two in the morning and slept in their coffins. He
asked what they did it for.
‘That’s the rule of the order,’ said Aunt Kate firmly.
‘Yes, but why?’ asked Mr. Browne.
Aunt Kate repeated that it was the rule, that was all. Mr.
Browne still seemed not to understand. Freddy Malins ex-
plained to him, as best he could, that the monks were trying
to make up for the sins committed by all the sinners in the
outside world. The explanation was not very clear for Mr.
Browne grinned and said:
‘I like that idea very much but wouldn’t a comfortable
spring bed do them as well as a coffin?’
‘The coffin,’ said Mary Jane, ‘is to remind them of their
last end.’
As the subject had grown lugubrious it was buried in a si-
lence of the table during which Mrs. Malins could be heard
saying to her neighbour in an indistinct undertone:
‘They are very good men, the monks, very pious men.’
The raisins and almonds and figs and apples and oranges
and chocolates and sweets were now passed about the ta-
ble and Aunt Julia invited all the guests to have either port
or sherry. At first Mr. Bartell D’Arcy refused to take either
but one of his neighbours nudged him and whispered some-
thing to him upon which he allowed his glass to be filled.

230 Dubliners