My New Curate

"No," said I; "but if you care-" "No use," said he; "when he has made up his mind you might as well be talking to a milestone." "And you must be off to-morrow?" said I, consulting the bishop's letter. "Yes," said he, "short shrift." "And who am I getting?" I wondered. "Hard to guess," said he. He was in no humor for conversation. The following week, that most melancholy of processions, a curate's furniture en route, filed slowly through the village, and out along the highroad, that led through bog and fen, and by lake borders to the town of N--.