"In dulce jubilo-o-o, Up, up, up we go-o-o;" when his sweet jubilee was cut short by the sight of two monks from his Priory, with grim faces, making their way towards the see-saw. Brother Jucundus tried to scramble out, and in so doing tumbled down. He was picked up. Either his libations, or the fall, or disinclination to return to St. Leonard's weakened his legs, and he tottered so much that the reverend fathers were obliged to put him in a wheelbarrow and roll him to the Priory gate. At the entrance stood the Prior with a brow of thunder. Brother Jucundus looked pleasantly up in his face from out of his conveyance, smiled benignantly, and piped-- "In dulce jubilo-o-o, Up, up, up we go-o-o." The chapter was still sitting, stern and threatening. The helpless monk was trundled in his barrow into the midst of the assembled fathers, to be tried and sentenced. He had been caught, _flagrante delicto_, in a see-saw, drunk, riotous, and incapable. Nevertheless, Brother Jucundus was not disposed to view his case unfavourably. He looked round on the chapter with an affectionate glance from out of his watery eye, and the kindest, most winsome smile on his ruddy cheeks. He was asked at once for his defence. He murmured, with a hiccup-- "In dulce jubilo-o-o." The sentence was unanimous, and unfalteringly given. He was to be walled alive into a niche in the Priory cellar. The execution was to be carried into effect immediately. As he was helped down the cellar stairs, some glimmer of his situation came in on the mind of Jucundus, and he sadly trolled out-- "Down, down, down we go-o-o." A convenient niche was soon found. A cruse of water and a loaf of bread, with cruel mockery, were placed in the recess. The ready hands of zealous monks mixed the mortar, brought the bricks, and in a quarter of an hour Brother Jucundus was firmly walled in to his living grave. Now for the first time did the extreme inconvenience of his position break upon the unfortunate monk. In the wheelbarrow he had been able to sit; here he was walled upright. It was cramping, intolerable. He kicked, he pressed backwards with all his might; and suddenly, with a crash, the wall behind him gave way, and he rolled backwards over a heap of fallen bricks into a cellar. The shock brought him completely to his senses. Where was he? Now he saw the gravity of his offence--the terrible fate that had been prepared for him. Escape was fortunately open to him. He ran up the cellar stairs, and found himself in the Abbey of St. Mary's. The cellars of the two monasteries had adjoined; a wall alone had divided them. He had tumbled out of St. Leonard's into St. Mary's.