The meal was over, and Jonah and I were washing the glasses, when—
"Now, no guide-books, please," said my brother-in-law. "I've read it all up. Where we are now was the ulularium."
"Whatever's that?" said Jill.
"The howling-green," said Berry. "The monks used to come and howl here before breakfast."
"What did they howl for?" said Adèle.
"It was a form," was the reply, "of mortification, instituted by Aitchless the 'Alf-baked and encouraged by his successor, who presented an empty but still fragrant beer-barrel to be howled for upon Michaelmas Eve." After the manner of a guide, the speaker preceded us to the gateway. "And now we come to the gate. Originally one-half its present width, it was widened by the orders of Gilbert the Gluttonous. The work, in which he took the deepest interest, was carried out under his close supervision. Indeed, it was not until the demolition of the structure had been commenced that he was able to be released from a position which was embarrassing not only his digestion, but his peace of mind, inasmuch as it was denying ingress to a cardinal who had much influence at the Vatican and was wearing tight boots."
The steep, narrow street was walled by great houses of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, while at the top a little archway buttressed a mansion of obvious importance.
"We now enter," said Berry, with the time-honoured flourish of the hired conductor, "the famous Bishops' Row. At one time or another, in every one of these dwellings prelates of all sizes and shapes have snored, swallowed, and generally fortified the flesh. Upon that door were posted the bulletins announcing the progress towards recovery of Rudolph the Rash, who in the fifteenth year of his office decided to take a bath. His eventual restoration to health was celebrated with great rejoicing. From that window Sandwich, surnamed the Slop-pail, was wont to dispense charity in the shape of such sack as he found himself reluctantly unable to consume. Such self-denial surprised even his most devoted adherents, until it was discovered that the bishop had no idea that he was pouring libations into the street, but, with some hazy intention of conserving the remains of his liquor, invariably mistook the window for the door of a cupboard. The house on the left is of peculiar interest. Behind those walls——"
"I wouldn't interrupt you for worlds," said Daphne, "and I'm sure the cathedral won't be half so interesting, but, perhaps, if we saw that first…."
"That's right," said her husband. "Twist the sage's tail. Now I've lost my place. I shall have to begin all over again." He paused to pass his hand across his eyes. Then he flung out an arm. "We now enter the famous Bishops' Row. At one time or another, in every one of these dwellings prelates of all…."