"
He looked around him, not smiling, but very quiet and patient, as if he
were waiting for the slight confusion to subside; for at first they
pushed each other rudely to get closer.
"There is room for all," he said, "in God's house;" and as he looked
into their faces each felt that it was a word to him, and held his
breath to listen--which suddenly seemed quite easy! The smaller children
nestled contentedly on their mothers' arms, munching some dainty brought
to keep them quiet, and fascinated by the low, clear voice, watched with
round, solemn eyes to see if he would smile; while two or three who were
tall enough to reach just over the edge of the table steadied themselves
by clutching it with their chubby hands, dropping their hold of their
mothers' mantles--for the pages were full of pretty colors, and the
voice of the padre was like a lullaby to keep them still, and they were
not afraid--at all.
Fra Paolo never gave the people many words, but sometimes they were
strong and beautiful, like an old poem, and in their own Venetian--not
in the Latin which had been made for the great ones.
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