member how she used to stand with perfect composure and sing,
"I wish I was married and nothing to rue,
With plenty of money and nothing to do."
"Jane Ray, you don't sing right" the Superior would exclaim.
"Oh," she would reply with perfect coolness, "that is the English for
'Seigneur Dieu de clemence,
Recois ce grand pecheur!'"
And, as sung by her, a person ignorant of the language would naturally be imposed upon. It was extremely difficult for me to conceal my laughter. I have always had greater exertion to make in repressing it than most other persons, and mad Jane Ray often took advantage of this.
Saturday evening usually brought with it much unpleasant work for some of us. We received Sacrament every Sunday; and in preparation for it, on Saturday evening, we asked pardon of the Superior, and of each other, "for the scandal we had caused them since we last received the Sacrament," and then asked the Superior's permission to receive it on the following day. She enquired of each nun, who necessarily asked her permission, whether she, naming her as Saint somebody had concealed any sin that should hinder her receiving it; and if the answer was in the negative, she granted her permission.
On Saturdays we were catechised by a priest, being assembled in a community-room. He sat on the right of the door, in a chair. He often told us stories, and frequently enlarged on the duty of enticing novices into the nunnery. "Do you not feel happy," he would say, "now that you are safely out of the world, and sure of heaven? But remember how many poor people are yet in the world. Every novice you influence to take the
