"For twenty years Suntil, a village Buddhist, had been cook to Father Carolis, the priest who ran the church attended by the upper-class folk. One day, while they were in the river for their daily bath, the priest said to Suntil, 'You've been my cook for twenty years, and you're still a Buddhist. That doesn't look right. People wonder what kind of priest I am when I can't even convert my own cook. Now the Bishop is honoring me by coming to lunch this Friday, and I've decided to baptize you as a Catholic so that I can present you to him as my latest convert.'
Suntil protested that he was content to be a Buddhist, and didn't want to be a Catholic, but Father Carolis would have none of it, and without further ado he pushed Suntil beneath the water, declaring, as he did so, 'Thou art Samuel!' When Suntil surfaced he declared, 'I am Suntil!' But the priest pushed him down again, with the words 'Thou art Samuel!' A second time Suntil declared himself to be Suntil, whereupon Father Carolis pushed him under the waves a third time, and held him so long that when Suntil surfaced he could only sputter and gasp for air.
On Friday the Bishop showed up, and the priest seated him at the place of honor for lunch. Suntil brought in lunch, the main course in a covered salver. When the priest lifted the lid his face grew red with anger. 'Samuel! what is the meaning of this? For twenty years you have been my cook. You know perfectly well that we don't eat meat on Fridays. And now, with the Bishop himself before us, how dare you to serve chicken? What does this mean?'
'Oh, but that isn't chicken,' replied Suntil. 'That's fish.'
'Fish? How can you say such a thing? I can see perfectly well, and I say it's chicken.'
'Oh no, Father, That's fish. You see, before I cooked it I took it down to the river, and three times I pushed it under the water, and each time I said, 'Thou art fish, thou art fish, thou art fish! So that isn't chicken, it's fish!'"
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