“Then I had an idea.  ‘Priest?’ says I.  ’There’s a fine big church, with a cross on the ridgepole of it, not five minutes’ walk from this house.  I see it as we was comin’ up.  Why don’t you run down there this minute?’ I says.

“No, she didn’t want to leave Archibald.  Suppose he should wake up.

“‘All right,’ says I.  ’Then I’ll go myself.  And I’ll fetch a priest up here if I have to tote him on my back, like the feller does the codfish in the advertisin’ picture.’

“I didn’t have to tote him.  He lived in a mighty fine house, hitched onto the church, and there was half a dozen assistant parsons to help him do his preachin’.  But he was big and fat and gray-haired and as jolly and as kind-hearted a feller as you’d want to meet.  He said he’d come right along; and he done it.

“Phinney opened the door for us.  ‘What’s the row?’ says I, lookin’ at his face.

“‘Row?’ he snorts; ’there’s row enough for six.  That da—­excuse me, mister—­that cussed Archibald has woke up.’

“He had; there wa’n’t no doubt about it.  And he was raisin’ hob, too.  The candy, mixed up with the dinner, had put his works in line with his disposition, and he was poundin’ and yellin’ upstairs enough to wake the dead.  Margaret leaned over the balusters.

“‘Is it the Father?’ she says.  ‘Oh, dear! what’ll I do?’

“‘Send some of the other servants to the boy,’ says the priest, ’and come down yourself.’

“Simeon, lookin’ kind of foolish, explained what had become of the other servants.  Father McGrath—­that was his name—­laughed and shook all over.

“‘Very well,’ says he.  ’Then bring the young man down.  Perhaps he’ll be quiet here.’

“So pretty soon down come Margaret with Archibald, full of the Old Scratch, as usual, dressed up gay in a kind of red blanket nighty, with a rope around the middle of it.  The young one spotted Simeon, and set up a whoop.

“‘Oh! there’s the funny whiskers,’ he sings out.

“‘Good evenin’, my son,’ says the priest.

“‘Who’s the fat man?’ remarks Archibald, sociable.  ’I never saw such a red fat man.  What makes him so red and fat?’

“These questions didn’t make Father McGrath any paler.  He laughed, of course, but not as if ’twas the funniest thing he ever heard.

“‘So you think I’m fat, do you, my boy?’ says he.

“‘Yes, I do,’ says Archibald.  ’Fat and red and funny.  Most as funny as the whisker man.  I never saw such funny-lookin’ people.’

“He commenced to point and holler and laugh.  Poor Margaret was so shocked and mortified she didn’t know what to do.

“‘Stop your noise, sonny,’ says I.  ’This gentleman wants to talk to your nurse.’

“The answer I got was some unexpected.

“‘What makes your feet so big?’ says Archie, pointin’ at my Sunday boots.  ’Why do you wear shoes like that?  Can’t you help it?  You’re funny, too, aren’t you?  You’re funnier than the rest of ’em.’