The following day, mother Bridget’s house was filled with merchants and shopkeepers of all descriptions, whom Francis had sent to Meta, in order that she might purchase and get ready every thing she required for her appearance in the world with suitable éclat. Three weeks afterwards he conducted her to the altar. The splendour of the wedding far exceeded that of the King of Hops. Mother Bridget enjoyed the satisfaction of adorning her daughter’s forehead with the nuptial crown, and thereby obtained the accomplishment of all her desires, and was recompensed for her virtuous and active life. She witnessed her daughter’s happiness with delight, and proved the very best of grandmothers to her daughter’s children.
THE SLEEPING FRIAR; OR, THE STONE OF FATHER CUDDY.
ABOVE all the islands in the Lakes of Killarney, give me Innisfallen—“sweet Innisfallen,” as the melodious Moore calls it. It is in truth a fairy isle, although I have no fairy story to tell you about it; and if I had these are such unbelieving times, and people of late have grown so sceptical, that they only smile at my stones and doubt them.
However none will doubt that a monastery stood once upon Innisfallen Island, for its ruins may still be seen; neither, that within its walls dwelt certain pious and learned persons called monks. A very pleasant set of fellows they were, I make not the least doubt; and I am sure of this, that they had a very pleasant spot to enjoy themselves in after dinner:—the proper time, believe me, and I am no bad judge of such matters, for the enjoyment of a fine prospect.
Out of all the monks you could not pick a better fellow nor a merrier soul than Father Cuddy;—he sang a good song, he told a good story, and had a jolly, comfortable-looking paunch of his own that was a credit to any refectory table. He was distinguished by the name of “the fat Father.” Now there are many that will take huff at a name: but Father Cuddy had no nonsense of that kind about him; he laughed at it, and well able he was to laugh, for his mouth nearly reached from one ear to the other,—his might in truth be called an open countenance. As his paunch was no disgrace to his food, neither was his nose to his drink. ’Tis a question to me if there were not more carbuncles upon it than ever were seen at the bottom of the lake, which is said to be full of them. His eyes had a right merry twinkle in them, like moonshine dancing on the water, and his cheeks had the roundness and crimson glow of ripe arbutus berries.