“Well, I suppose it must be permitted,” sighed Father Higgins.  “Go on wid yer sacrifice, me dear felly.  I presume, av coorse, that it will be in ordher for me to ate some av it.  Let the fishes be well cooked, by-the-way, and sarved wid some kind av sauce.  I’d almost as lave be devoured meself as devour raw fishes.”

“Really, I have some scruples,” smiled the mischievous professor.  “You might shock the devotional feelings of your new worshippers.”

“I insist upon it, Heller.  I tell ye I won’t ate raw fishes to convart a continent av haythins, much less a little bit island av ’um.”

The fish being promptly broiled on the coals of the altar, were handed up to Father Higgins on a large leaf, together with one of the cocoa-nuts and a bread-fruit.  The worthy man immediately proceeded to make a hearty meal, vastly to the delight and confirmation in the faith of his worshippers, they having never before been blessed with a god who could fairly and squarely eat his dinner.  After another brief speech from the chief, and a benediction from the padre, the multitude dispersed.

“Is it me unavoidable duty to live on this perch, Heller?” demanded Father Higgins.  “Me opinion is that in that case I shall get mightily tired av me mission.  I’d about as lave be a parrot, an’ sit in a tin ring.”

“My dear Father, remember that blessed saint who roosted for twenty years on the top of a pillar,” urged the professor.  “Stay where you are until you have got a firm grip on the faith of these cannibals.”

“Very good,” assented Higgins, with a yawn.  “But get me a bucket of wather, me dear felly.  Sure I must have some blessed an’ ready for use.  The next time sarvice is conducted here I propose to sprinkle the worshippers.  It’ll benefit um in more ways nor wan, if I’m a judge of ayther sowl or body.”

Such was the installation of Bishop Higgins, or, as the Feejeeans insisted upon considering him, Divinity Higgins, over the diocese of the Pacific.

There was something mysterious about the Cannibal Islands.  Time flew like a bird there; the days seemed no more than minutes; they were coming, and they were gone.  Events, emotions, changes of belief, transformations of character, succeeded each other with magical rapidity.  Every thing was transacted at the wildest speed of dreams; and yet, what was strangest of all, every thing went smoothly and naturally; nothing excited astonishment.  In a few days, or a few seconds, whatever the period of time might have been, Father Higgins enjoyed being Divinity Higgins.

“I think it best for the eventual spiritual interests av me paple that they should continue to worship me for a while longer,” he said to Heller.  “Human nature in a savage state, ye see, wont go at wan jump from a log av wood to the thrue Deity.  I’m playin’ the part av a steppin’-stone betwixt the two.  Afther they’ve larned to lift their sowls to Higgins, they’ll be able to go a bit higher, say to the saints first, an’ thin to the blissid Vargin, an’ so on, wan step at a time, till they’ve got the whole av it.  But it’ll be mortial slow, I’m doubtin’.  I may have to bear an’ forbear as I am for an intire gineration av the poor crachurs.”