"It is about four years ago," said the doctor, "since the Bishop, Dr. Plunkett, took it into his head that he'd make a general inspection, 'a reconnoisance," as we'd call it, Mr. Lor--that is, my lord! Through the whole diocese, and leave no part far nor near without poking his nose in it and seeing how matters were doing. He heard very queer stories about his reverence here, and so down he came one morning in the month of July, riding upon an old grey hack, looking just for all the world like any other elderly gentleman in very rusty black. When he got near the village he picked up a little boy to show him the short cut across the fields to the house here; and as his lordship was a 'sharp man and a shrewd,' he kept his eye on every thing as he went along, remarking this, and noting down that. "'Are ye regular in yer duties, my son?' said he to the gossoon. "'I never miss a Sunday,' said the gossoon; 'for it's always walking his reverence's horse I am the whole time av prayers.' "His lordship said no more for a little while, when he muttered between his teeth, 'Ah, it's just slander--nothing but slander and lying tongues.' This soliloquy was caused by his remarking that on every gate he passed, or from every cabin, two or three urchins would come out half naked, but all with the finest heads of red hair he ever saw in his life. "'How is it, my son,' said he, at length; 'they tell very strange stories about Father Malachi, and I see so many of these children with red hair. Eh--now Father Malachi's a dark man.' "'True for ye,' said the boy; 'true for ye, Father Malachi's dark; but the coadjutor!--the coadjutor's as red as a fox.'" When the laugh this story caused had a little subsided, Father Malachi called out, "Mickey Oulahan! Mickey, I say, hand his lordship over 'the groceries'"--thus he designated a square decanter, containing about two quarts of whiskey, and a bowl heaped high with sugar--"a dacent boy is Mickey, my lord, and I'm happy to be the means of making him known to you." I bowed with condescension, while Mr. Oulahan's eyes sparkled like diamonds at the recognition. "He has only two years of the lease to run, and a 'long charge,' (anglice, a large family,) continued the priest. "I'll not forget him, you may depend upon it," said I. "Do you hear that," said Father Malachi, casting a glance of triumph round the table, while a general buzz of commendation on priest and patron went round, with many such phrases as, "Och thin, it's his riv'rance can do it," "na bocklish," "and why not," &c. &c. As for me, I have already "confessed" to my crying sin, a fatal, irresistible inclination to follow the humour of the moment wherever it led me; and now I found myself as active a partizan in quizzing Mickey Oulahan, as though I was not myself a party included in the jest. I was thus fairly launched into my inveterate habit, and nothing could arrest my progress.