A CHILD OF THE JAGO
mother. But you and I may say the truth. You know the Jago far better than I. Is there a child in all this place that wouldn't be better dead—still better unborn? But does a day pass without bringing you just such a parishioner? Here lies the Jago, a nest of rats, breeding, breeding as only rats can; and we say it is well. On high moral grounds we uphold the right of rats to multiply their thousands, sometimes we catch a rat. And we keep it a little while, nourish it carefully, and put it back into the nest to propagate its kind."
Father Sturt walked a little way in silence. Then he said: "You are right, of course. But who'll listen, if you shout it from the housetops? I might try to proclaim it myself, if I had time and energy to waste. But I have none—I must work; and so must you. The burden grows day by day, as you say. The thing's hopeless, perhaps, but that is not for me to discuss. I have my duty."
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