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Peppone stood with folded arms, speechless. Then he blurted out: "But my Tommy gun,
reverendo!"
"Your Tommy gun?" replied Don Camillo with a smile. "I'm afraid I don't understand. You had
it yourself."
"Yes, I had it when we were leaving the cowbarn, but then you took advantage of my
exhaustion and stole it from me."
"Now that you mention it, I believe you're right," replied Don Camillo with disarming candor.
"You must forgive me, Peppone, but the truth is that I am getting old and I don't seem able to
remember where I've put it."
"Reverendo!" exclaimed Peppone indignantly. "But that's the second one you've swiped from
me!"
"Never mind, my son. Don't worry. You will easily find another. Who knows how many you
have even now lying around your house!"
"You are one of those priests that, one way or another, compel a decent man to become a
Mohammedan!"
"Very possibly," replied Don Camillo, "but then you, Peppone, are not a decent man."
Peppone flung his hat on the ground.
 "If you were a decent man," the priest went on, "you would be thanking me for what I have
done for you and for the people."
Peppone picked up his hat, jammed it on his head and turned away. "You can rob me of two
hundred thousand Tommy guns, but when the time comes I will always have a '75 to train on this
infernal house!"
"And I'll always find an 81 mortar with which to retaliate," replied Don Camillo calmly.
As Peppone was passing the open door of the church he could see the altar, and angrily
pulled off his hat and then crammed it on again quickly for fear someone should see him.
But Christ saw it, and when Don Camillo came in He said gaily: "Peppone went by just now
and took off his hat to Me."
"You be careful, Lord," replied Don Camillo. "Remember someone kissed You and then sold
You for thirty pieces of silver. That fellow who took off his hat told me only three minutes before
that when the time came he would always find a '75 to fire on the house of God!"
"And what did you reply?"
"That I would always manage to find an 81 mortar to fire on his headquarters."
"I understand, Don Camillo. But the trouble is that you have that mortar already."
Don Camillo spread out his arms. "Lord;" he said, "there are so many odds and ends a man
hates to throw away because of old memories. All of us are a bit sentimental. And then, in any
case, isn't it better that a thing like that be in my house rather than in someone else's?"
"Don Camillo is always right," smiled Christ, "just as long as he plays fair."
"No fear about that; I have the best adviser in the universe," replied Don Camillo, and to this
Christ could make no reply.
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The Procession
Once every year, for the blessing of the village, the crucifix from above the altar was carried
in procession as far as the river bank, where the river also was blessed so that it would refrain
from excesses and behave decently.
This year, as Don Camillo was thinking over the final touches to be given to the celebrations,
Smilzo stopped in at the rectory.
"The secretary of our local section," said Smilzo, "sends me to inform you that the entire
section will take part in the procession complete with all its banners."
"Convey my thanks to Secretary Peppone," replied Don Camillo. "I am only too happy to have
all the men of the section present. But they must be good enough to leave their banners at home.
Political banners have no place in religious processions. Those are the orders that I have
received."
Smilzo retired and very soon Peppone arrived, red in the face and with his eyes popping out
of his head. "We are just as much Christians as the rest of them!" he shouted, bursting in without
even knocking on the door. "In what way are we different from other people?"
"In not taking off your hats when you come into other people's houses," said Don Camillo
quietly.
Peppone snatched his hat from his head.
"Now you are just like any other Christian," said Don Camillo.
"Then why can't we join the procession with our flag?" shouted Peppone. "Is it the flag of
thieves and murderers?"
"No, Comrade Peppone," Don Camillo explained, lighting his cigar. "But the flag of a party
cannot be admitted. This procession is concerned with religion and not with politics."
"Then the flags of Catholic Action should also be excluded !"
"And why? Catholic Action is not a political party, as proved by the fact that I am its local
secretary. Indeed I strongly advise you and your comrades to join it."
Peppone jeered. "If you want to save your black soul, you had better join our party!"
Don Camillo raised his hands. "Supposing we leave it at that," he replied, smiling. "We all
stay as we are and remain friends."
"You and I have never been friends," Peppone asserted.
 "Not even when we were in the mountains together?"
"No! That was merely a strategic alliance. For the triumph of our arms one can make an
alliance even with priests."
"Very well," said Don Camillo calmly. "Nevertheless, if you want to join in the procession, you
must leave your flag at home."
Peppone ground his teeth. "If you think you can play the dictator, reverendo, you're making a
big mistake!" he exclaimed. "Either our flag marches or there won't be any procession!"
Don Camillo was not impressed. "He'll get over it," he said to himself. And in fact, during the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]