The Monitor. [volume] (Woodstown, N.J.) 1884-1892, 1885-10-16

horror may be imagined when he saw that
his clothes had disappeared and that moth
ing but the towel and the boots remained.
For a moment he stood as if thunderstruck.
Then, girding the towel around his loins,
he rushed about in all directions in a state
of most unecelesiastical excitement and
searched the bushes, peered under the
hedges, looked up into trees, all the time
hurting a complete combination service on
the heads of the unprincipled scoundrels
who had made away with his wardrobe.
A quarter to ten struck. The church, the
distracted vicar thought, would be now
filling; the carriages of the country gentry
would be dashing through the village
street; his right reverence the Lord Bis
hop of Virginia Water would have arrived,
and here was he, the most important man
in the place after the squire, shivering on
the banks of a river in a towel and a pair
of boots.
The position was a terrible one. But no
shipwrecked mariner ever saw water with
more genuine JOY than did the vicar hear
the sounds of approaching footsteps.
Quickly he Invested himself of towel and
boots, sprang back into the stream and
waited to see who was coming. The
steps were those of someone evidently not
pressed for time and who, from the nature
of the song he was caroling, had certainly
no intention of attending the ceremony at
the village church, but they were the
footsteps of a man, and at that moment
the vicar felt that he could have hailed tile
presence of the most irreclaimable member
of his parish with delight.
The seconds which elapsed between his
first hearing the footsteps and the appear
ance of the figure seemed to the vicar like
hours. but at length Mr.. Gerald Maldon
emerged from the ~shrubbery with a pipe
in his fingers and ballad on his tongue
concentrating the duplicity Of a certain
Duke of Seven Dials.
'sHi, Mr.. Maldon, Mr.. Maldon!' sliouted
the vicar. The young man stopped short
in the middle of the chorus, looking up in
the trees, away over the fields. behind him
and straight ahead of HMM fact, every
where but in the right direction.
The vicar renewed his cries.
Hi! Mr.. Maldon, Here. 1t is |, the
vicar. I'm in the river, Some thiefs
gone off with all my clothes and I've to be
at the church at ten to assist at the con-
frmation,. What on earth am ! to do?"
The young man gazcd with admirably
feigned astonishment at the bald head and
the agonized red face of the halEsubmerged
vicar and giving vent to a prolonged
whistle said:
'.By Jovc, sir, if you've to be at the
church at ten you'll have to hurry up, for
it only wants five minute now. The bis
hop has already arrived, for he was yarn
ing to the governor about a quarter of an
hour back"
This was not strictly true, but it had the
desired effect of intensifying the Wears
agony.
'But l say Mr.. Maldon," said the
wretched vicar, what am | TO do? |
haven't time to get my fresh things from
the viearage. l can't go to the church as am
no, no, / don't mean that. But really
don't believe any man was ever in such a
predicament before ? What can | do ="
''Well," said Gerald, there's only one
way out of the difficulty that | can sug-
gest. My suit is not, perhaps, of a particu-
larly clerical cut and color, but it wouldn't
/ .lo,, ,,,,al, ,,p1a. a -, rylioa aud Won pp1ld
run over to the church in it without any
body noticing you. Why shouldn't you
put it on ,"
But what are you to do?" gasped the
vicar.
''Oh, it doesn't matter about me, : replied
Gerald: ''I've nothing to do and Eve lots
of tobacco and shall enjoy myself all right
here"
But how can l assist at a confirmation
in ain a kind of seaside shooting suit Z?
Still, l suppose there's nothing else to be
DONE said the poor vicar, waddling out of
the water and drying himself as fast as he
could. I'm sure, Mr.. Maldon, I'm indebt-
ed to you-that ! am. Butdon't you trou-
/ Dlt. lndilkS-tHdl . II. q bNtlO AchS ~ WV
legs. ~perhaps-oh. thauks,-no; never mind
the necktie. There, that will do, and 10Y
I'll make a rush for it,"
So saying the vicar doubled across the
field as fast as his unframed condition would
allow him, leaving Gerald with the towel
and the boots and exploding with laughter
at the ridiculous figure the parson cut,
ambling and stumbling along in the much
maligned suit ofdittoes.
The vicar arrived at the church just as
the clock was striking half-past ten. To his
horror the first person TO meet him was the
bishop, who fairly staggered at the spec
tacle presented by the most precise and
pompous minister in his diocese.
Extremely sorry, my lord" painted the
exhausted vicar. Had an accident-ex-
plain all afterwards The bishop said
nothing. but his look spoke volumes, al
though, being a prelate Of an eminently