"Well, upon my veracity," observed Father Peter, "the gentleman's
supernaturally long."

"Yes, Pether," replied Father Ned, "but observe his
position--_Polysyllaba cuncta supina_, as Psorody says.--Arrah,
salvation to me but you're a dull man, afther all!--but we're
interrupting the gentleman. Sir, go on, if you please, with your story."

"Give me a few minutes," said he, "until I recollect the particulars."

He accordingly continued quiescent for two or three minutes more,
apparently arranging the materials of his intended narration, and then
commenced to gratify the eager expectations of his auditory, by emitting
those nasal enunciations which are the usual accompaniments of sleep!

"Why, bad luck to the morsel of 'im but's asleep," said Ned; "Lord
pardon me for swearin' in your Reverence's presence."

"That's certainly the language of a sleeping man," replied Father Ned,
"but there might have been a little more respect than all that snoring
comes to. Your health, boys."

The stranger had now wound up his nasal organ to a high pitch, after
which he commenced again with somewhat of a lower and finer tone.

"He's beginning a new paragraph," observed Father Peter with a smile at
the joke.

"Not at all," said Father Ned, "he's turning the tune; don't you
perceive that he's snoring 'God save the King,' in the key of _bass