Father Cuddy had no nonsense of that kind about him; he laughed at it, and
well able he was to laugh, for his mouth nearly reached from one ear to
the other--his might, in truth, be called an open countenance. As his
paunch was no disgrace to his food, neither was his nose to his drink.
'Tis a question to me if there were not more carbuncles upon it than ever
were seen at the bottom of the lake, which is said to be full of them. His
eyes had a right merry twinkle in them, like moonshine dancing on the
water; and his cheeks had the roundness and crimson glow of ripe arbutus
berries.

He eat, and drank, and prayed, and slept--what then?
He eat, and drank, and prayed, and slept again!

Such was the tenor of his simple life; but when he prayed, a certain
drowsiness would come upon him, which it must be confessed never occurred
when a well filled "black jack" stood before him. Hence his prayers were
short, and his draughts were long. The world loved him, and he saw no
reason why he should not in return love its venison and its usquebaugh.
But, as times went, he must have been a pious man, or else what befel him
never would have happened.

Spiritual affairs--for it was respecting the importation of a tun of wine
into the island monastery--demanded the presence of one of the brotherhood
of Innisfallen at the abbey of Trelagh, now called Muckruss. The
superintendence of this important matter was committed to Father Cuddy,
who felt too deeply interested in the future welfare of any community of
which he was a member to neglect or delay such mission. With the morning's
light he was seen guiding his shallop across the crimson waters of the
lake towards the peninsula of Muckruss, and having moored his little bark
in safety beneath the shelter of a wave-worn rock, he advanced with