thin; Val is inclined to become chubby. I have a beard and he is
necessarily shaven; he needs glasses always, and I only for reading.
With these preliminary observations I may say that Val is about five
feet six in his shoes, of dark complexion, and with hair inclining to
gray. He is quiet in manner, yet withal a charming companion when
called upon to talk. The people worship him; that is the best
testimonial of a country priest, and all that I need say about his
interior man.

If I did not know for certain that Longfellow never set eyes on
Ardmuirland, I should maintain that the lines at the head of this
chapter were meant for a description of it. For "the steel-blue rim of
the ocean" is but three miles distant from this heather-clad,
wind-swept height, which rises some seven hundred feet above it.
Moreover, as one gazes down, the eye meets many a miniature forest of
pine and birch, clothing portions of the lower hills, or nestling in
the crevices of the numerous watercourses which divide them. Strewn
irregularly over the landscape are white-walled, low-roofed farms and
crofters' dwellings--each in the embrace of sheltering barn and byre,
whose roofs of vivid scarlet often shine out in the sun from a setting
of green meadow or garden.

Our own habitation is simple enough, yet amply suffices for our needs.
It is just a stone cottage of two stories, and is connected by a small
cloister-like passage, Gothic in character, with the stone chapel which
is the scene of Val's priestly ministrations. This, too, is modest
enough. The windows are triple lancets, filled with opaque glass, the
altar of stone and marble, but simple in decoration, the tabernacle of
brass, and the eastern window--larger than the others--is embellished
with stained glass. It is in memory of our dear Dad, and besides his