the most so. His motto, you know, as Pope, was Lux upon Lux—Light upon Light."
"No, no," said Mr. Fogarty eagerly. "I think you're wrong there. It was Lux in Tenebris, I think—Light in Darkness."
"O yes," said Mr. M'Coy, "Tenebrae."
"Allow me," said Mr. Cunningham positively, "it was Lux upon Lux. And Pius IX. his predecessor's motto was Crux upon Crux—that is, Cross upon Cross—to show the difference between their two pontificates."
The inference was allowed. Mr. Cunningham continued.
"Pope Leo, you know, was a great scholar and a poet."
"He had a strong face," said Mr. Kernan.
"Yes," said Mr. Cunningham. "He wrote Latin poetry."
"Is that so?" said Mr. Fogarty.
Mr. M'Coy tasted his whisky contentedly and shook his head with a double intention, saying:
"That's no joke, I can tell you."
"We didn't learn that, Tom," said Mr. Power, following Mr. M'Coy's example, "when we went to the penny-a-week school."
"There was many a good man went to the penny-a-week school with a sod of turf under his oxter," said Mr. Kernan sententiously. "The old system was the best: plain honest education. None of your modern trumpery. . . ."
"Quite right," said Mr. Power.
"No superfluities," said Mr. Fogarty.
