"Gentlemen, the annual procession in honor of our Blessed Lady will be held in the Cathedral and College grounds on the evening of May the 31st. I shall be glad to see there as many of you as can attend. Dinner at four; rosary and sermon at seven o'clock. Father Letheby, would you do me the favor of preaching for us on that occasion?" Father Letheby blushed an affirmative; and then the bishop, with delightful tact, turned to the humbled and almost effaced Father Duff, and said:-- "Father Duff, leave me that paper; I think I'll adopt the admirable suggestion of our friend, Father Dan." Some of the young fellows, wits and wags as they were, circulated through the diocese the report that I tried to kiss the bishop. Now, there is not a word of truth in that--and for excellent reasons. First, because like Zacchæus, I am short of stature; and the bishop--God bless him!--is a fine, portly man. Secondly, because I have an innate and congenital dread of that little square of purple under his Lordship's chin. I'm sure I don't know why, but it always gives me the shivers. I'm told that they are allowing some new class of people called "Monsignori," and even some little canons, to assume the distinctive color of the episcopate. 'T is a great mistake. Our Fathers in God should have their own peculiar colors, as they have their own peculiar and tremendous responsibilities. But I'll tell you what I did. I kissed the bishop's ring, and I think I left a deep indentation on his Lordship's little finger. The Master of Conference detained me. "I'm beginning to like that young fellow of yours," he said. "He appears to have more piety than learning." "He has both," I replied. "So he has; so he has, indeed. What are we coming to? What are we coming to, at all?" "Then I suppose," I said, "I needn't mind that bell?" "What bell?" "The bell that I was to tie around his neck." "Father Dan, you have too long a memory; good by! I'm glad you've not that infidel, Duff, as curate." We went home at a rapid pace, my curate and I, both too filled with thought to speak much. At last, I said, shaking up:-- "I'm beginning to think that I, too, took forty winks during the reading of that paper." "I think about forty minutes of winks, Father Dan," he replied. "You slept steadily for forty minutes out of the forty-five." "That's a calumnious exaggeration," I said; "don't I remember all about Job, and Daniel, and the synoptic Gospels." "These were a few preliminaries," replied my curate. "But who was that undignified and ungentlemanly fellow that woke us all with such a snore? I suppose it was Delaney?" "No; it was not Delaney. He was too agitated after his rencontre with the chairman to fall asleep." "Indeed? Perhaps it would be as well for me not to pursue the subject further. This will be a great sermon of yours." "I'm very nervous about it," he said, shaking the reins. "It is not the sermon I mind, but all the dislike and jealousy and rancor it will cause."