The Social Cancer, by José Rizal - Home

CHAPTER XVIII 86
The flattered man smiled and continued, "It isn't so wonderful that I earn more than you do. Why, I can almost
say that even when sleeping I earn indulgences."
"And what do you do with them, sir?" asked four or five voices at the same time.
"Pish!" answered the man with a gesture of proud disdain. "I have them to throw away!"
"But in that I can't commend you, sir," protested Rufa. "You'll go to purgatory for wasting the indulgences.
You know very well that for every idle word one must suffer forty days in fire, according to the curate; for
every span of thread uselessly wasted, sixty days; and for every drop of water spilled, twenty. You'll go to
purgatory."
"Well, I'll know how to get out," answered Brother Pedro with sublime confidence. "How many souls have I
saved from the flames! How many saints have I made! Besides, even in articulo mortis I can still earn, if I
wish, at least seven plenary indulgences and shall be able to save others as I die." So saying, he strode proudly
away.
Sister Rufa turned to the others: "Nevertheless, you must do as I do, for I don't lose a single day and I keep my
accounts well. I don't want to cheat or be cheated."
"Well, what do you do?" asked Juana.
"You must imitate what I do. For example, suppose I earn a year of indulgence: I set it down in my
account-book and say, 'Most Blessed Father and Lord St. Dominic, please see if there is anybody in purgatory
who needs exactly a year--neither a day more nor a day less.' Then I play heads and tails: if it comes heads,
no; if tails, yes. Let's suppose that it comes tails, then I write down paid; if it comes heads, then I keep the
indulgence. In this way I arrange groups of a hundred years each, of which I keep a careful account. It's a pity
that we can't do with them as with money--put them out at interest, for in that way we should be able to save
more souls. Believe me, and do as I do."
"Well, I do it a better way," remarked Sister Sipa.
"What? Better?" demanded the astonished Rufa. "That can't be! My system can't be improved upon!"
"Listen a moment and you'll be convinced, Sister," said old Sipa in a tone of vexation.
"How is it? Let's hear!" exclaimed the others.
After coughing ceremoniously the old woman began with great care: "You know very well that by saying the
Bendita sea tu pureza and the Señor mío Jesucristo, Padre dulcísimo por el gozo, ten years are gained for
each letter--"
"Twenty!" "No, less!" "Five!" interrupted several voices.
"A few years more or less make no difference. Now, when a servant breaks a plate, a glass, or a cup, I make
him pick up the pieces; and for every scrap, even the very smallest, he has to recite for me one of those
prayers. The indulgences that I earn in this way I devote to the souls. Every one in my house, except the cats,
understands this system."
"But those indulgences are earned by the servants and not by you, Sister Sipa," objected Rufa.
"And my cups and plates, who pays for them? The servants are glad to pay for them in that way and it suits