appear to have an eye to the new curate, as well
as Mr. Tritt. Indeed, there was much curiosity
about him. "May fortune shower her choicest
gifts upon you," was another device, considered
most ingenious and appropriate. We omit the
Scriptural phrases which Grumbleton, not being
an original, soon fell a quoting, as people do
when they don't know what else to say. A
pile of carte de visite portraits of the curate in
full canonical apparel, was also on the table, to
remind the sorrowing parishioners of their
departed pastor when his voice should no longer
be heard among them.

The harmonium and school children at a given
signal struck up, and all joined in singing. Mr.
Tritt's bass was audible, though rather hoarse,
on the occasion. A bass voice, and a mild
temper disposing him to coo with it, are the
fortunate conjunctions for a curate. The model
curate blends orchestrally the serpent (or the
bassoon) with the dove.

Admiral Groggen's ears are deaf to the strain,
and he stares out of window, ruminating oratory,
while the music has possession of the public.
When it has ceased, curiosity enforces instant
silence, while the rector, a man who does common
things well, and uncommon things not so
well, briefly opens the proceedings by calling
on Admiral Groggen to proceed to business.
The gallant admiral would certainly have been
more at home in laying his ship alongside his
enemy, but we have all to do queer things
sometimes, and must manage as well as we can. Speaking
up, therefore, as if there were a strange
craft in sight, and he had mislaid his speaking-
trumpet, he informs the company that Mr.
Tritt is about to leave them for a new scene
of labours, to which he has been preferred by
the Lord Chancellor. He is glad of his good
fortune, but sorry to lose him. He believes he
preaches excellent sermons, but, owing to deafness,
is of course unable to judge. His deafness
explained why he sometimes fell asleep
during Mr. Tritt's sermons; a better apology,
he would remind them, than some other folks
had. Oh, they didn't sleep in church? He was
glad to hear it; men ought to keep their eyes
open when on duty, and women too (loud
cheers), which the admiral could not hear, so
that he had got well into the principal part of
his speech when the noise subsided. Here
however, he was a little at fault. "And this
mahogany box," he repeated, taking it up and
scanning it attentively, "varnished very nicely,
Mr. Tritt." (Mr. T., in canonical apparel, bows
assent.) "Jessie, my dear, where the deuce is the
key?" A little titter and confusion among the
ladies; meanwhile, Admiral Groggen proceeds:
"Grateful recollection; good-hearted man;
help the poor—none of you ladies know
anything about the key?"

"The key," says Miss Virginia, very quietly,
"is here, Admiral Groggen."

"Oh, oh," said the speaker. "Now, Mr. Tritt,
we shall get on, sir! Yes, my dears," continued
the admiral, quite blandly, and unlocking the
chest as he went on, "it's all right. And now,
Reverend Mr. Tritt, A.M.," he continued, his
eye catching sight of the inscription, "I have
the honour to request, on behalf of the grateful
parishioners of Grumbleton, your acceptance of
this teapot" holding it aloft amid the applause
of the company, and then handing it across the
table to the curate, who took it nervously in both
hands, opened the lid, looked in, and set it down
on the table; "this cream ewer," which
accordingly followed the teapot; "and this
sugar-basin, sir, which, if it has no sugar in it
at the present moment, has something
wherewithal to sweeten the cares of existence, and
—and—to help keep the kettle boiling."

A heavy purse of gold was lifted from the
basin by the gratified and greatly affected
recipient, amidst loud applause from all, which
the admiral could notice, if he could not hear.

"Bless you, my worthy friend!" said the
admiral, shaking the curate's hand warmly; "get
a good wife, Timothy, to make tea for you, as
soon as you can."

A great many damp eyes sparkled in the
schoolroom at that moment, but it is gratifying
to state that Mr. Tritt was equal to the occasion.

Of course he shed tears. Of course he was
overcome by his feelings. Of course he was
taken by surprise. He would remember them
in his prayers when he was far away; and he
hoped they would remember him. He should
never look at the teapot and the tea-service,
without a charming reminiscence of dear
Grumbleton. He might find many discouragements
before him; rather expected he should; but
the remembrance of this day's proceedings, the
touching address of their gallant old friend——
(Here Tritt raised his voice a little, to make the
deaf man hear.) "That's right, give it 'em well,"
said Admiral Groggen, under the impression
that the curate was improving the occasion.
"Sarve 'em right; Grumbleton folks good for
nothing, as you say." Whereat everybody
began to laugh, and nothing more could be said,
sentimental or serious.

The rector asked everybody to luncheon, and
the proceedings of the day closed with an affecting
address to the school children, and a fire-balloon,
which came down somewhere and did mischief.

The months rolled on in Grumbleton, Miss
Stocke made a very good humdrum wife for
Tritt, and the time soon came when the
successor in the curacy was to give way to the son
of the rector, who wanted a title. But nobody
spoke of the former curate; his photograph was
framed and hung up in some of the cottages, but
I believe the Mynns had lost theirs. The wine
merchant had one, but that came as a label on a
case of returned empties from Grumbleton.

"It's no use," said Admiral Groggen, "giving
Thews a tea-pot and a bag of money, you
know. He's got plenty of money, so what will
you do?"

"An inkstand," suggested Miss Rose Mynn.

"To get him to write his sermons, eh? A
cricket-bat, I should say. Well, settle it among
you. There's my mite, whenever you want it.
Everybody does speak well of Thews, certainly."