From "Authority"
by George Keithley Behind bejeweled fingers they grinned, they tittered, to hear their friend——his cup filled to spilling——propose his toast to progress; then declare the Pope, "A dupe, a dullard, a simpleton. A worm. A brass-brained dolt. A sheep. A braying ass spooked by its own shadow." Clearly he feared no man now. No——not even pious Pope Urban who strangled songbirds in the Vatican garden when they disturbed him. |