creature of the winter only, and found himself quite at home in it.

For there were ruins, and pretty large ruins too, which they called the
Priory. It was not often that monks chose such a poor country to settle
in, but I suppose they had their reasons. And I dare say they were not
monks at all, but begging friars, who founded it when they wanted to
reprove the luxury and greed of the monks; and perhaps by the time they
had grown as bad themselves, the place was nearly finished, and they
could not well move it. They had, however, as I have indicated, chosen
the one pretty spot, around which, for a short distance on every side,
the land was tolerably good, and grew excellent oats if poor wheat,
while the gardens were equal to apples and a few pears, besides
abundance of gooseberries, currants, and strawberries.

The ruins of the Priory lay behind Mr Macmichael's cottage--indeed, in
the very garden--of which, along with the house, he had purchased the
fen--that is, the place was his own, so long as he paid a small sum--not
more than fifteen shillings a year, I think--to his superior. How
long it was since the Priory had come to be looked upon as the mere
encumbrance of a cottage garden, nobody thereabouts knew; and although
by this time I presume archaeologists have ferreted out everything
concerning it, nobody except its owner had then taken the trouble to
make the least inquiry into its history. To Willie it was just the
Priory, as naturally in his father's garden as if every garden had
similar ruins to adorn or encumber it, according as the owner might
choose to regard its presence.

The ruins were of considerable extent, with remains of Gothic arches,
and carvings about the doors--all open to the sky except a few places on
the ground-level which were vaulted. These being still perfectly solid,