up here a little while ago lookin' out for me
pot--it's an elegant pot, an' I'm loth to part with it--but she says
Bill tould her there's no such thing as a pot to be seen out there. So
I'll have to lave it with her. But the bed, Father Taylor, it's the
bed that's throublin' me the most. It's a beautiful bed, your
reverence."

The priest glanced towards that valuable article of furniture, and
responded heartily and admiringly:--

"It is, indeed, a wonderful bed."

"Sure there isn't its like in the place," resumed Mary. "It was me
mother's bed, so it was--she looked very well when she was laid out on
it," she added thoughtfully. "Very well, indeed, she looked! I always
thought that Dan an' meself 'ud be waked in that bed, too. Well, well,
the Lord knows best, doesn't he, yer reverence? But I'd think very bad
of lettin' that bed out o' this to go anywhere on'y to yer reverence's
house."

"Bless me!" cried Father Taylor, unable to restrain a surprised laugh;
but he quickly composed his features.

"Aye, indeed, yer reverence, I'd be proud if ye'd let me make ye a
present of it," said poor old Mary, trying to straighten her little
bent back, and peering at him with anxious eyes. "Sure it's altogether
too proud Dan an' meself 'ud be, an' ye wouldn't believe the beautiful
nights' rests we do be gettin' out o' that bed."

"I'm quite sure you do," responded the priest warmly; "but upon my
word, Mary, do you know I'm afraid the Bishop mightn't like it."

Mrs. Brophy was appalled at the magnitude of the idea. Father Taylor
continued in a very solemn voice, but with a twinkle in his eye:--

"You see, Mary, we poor priests are not allowed luxuries, and if his
lordship were to arrive unexpectedly and walk into my room and see
that grand bed in the corner he might think it very queer."

"Would he now?" said Mary, in awestruck tones.

"You wouldn't like to get me into trouble, Mary, I'm sure," pursued
Father Taylor. "The Bishop might think I was getting beyond myself
altogether."

Mrs. Brophy heaved a deep sigh; she was depressed, but magnanimous. It
would ill become her, she observed, to be gettin' his reverence into
trouble, and who'd think his lordship was that wicked? Holy man! She
would say no more; and Father Taylor was devoutly thankful for her
forbearance. He would have done anything rather than hurt her
feelings, but the mere sight of that ancient, venerable, and
much-begrimed four-poster made him shudder; while