The Providence news. (Providence [R.I.]) 1891-1906, 1899-08-24

Il
never rr, 'lncrd either a poet or a MUIR
derer. AZ last /. has become famous
all through our new vicar.
The old vicar was kind enough TO die
after five and twenty years OF persist
ent absenteeism. He left the church M
ruins, the vicarage desolation, and
the majority of the villagers Dis
| tfs. The living Is worth an old song.
! rnr some Tine we were ~ ihout a vi
car. and several Sundays saw the
church actually shut up. At last a
/ young priest took compassion upon us.
he had small private income not
more than enough to keep ar artisan
Do he was bachelor, VITA an Ia G.
| ishman's patE.on for WORK. He is cne
| OF those young fellows who will vault
| over a gate ru:l.er than open IL. *
| anything wants knocking down ne likes
| To have the knocking of IL down. Here.
| at Crowsnest, he saw his opportunity
| no big squire to interfere with him,
| and soil TO work upon as virgin az that
| or new country. SO he took the liv-
ing.
We soon found there was a man
among us. We put a laborer and his
wife in the vicarage 10 look after him
and keep In order the two rooms he re-
served to himself. In a week these
simple people began TO worship him.
Before long all the village children
knew him as "A kind of comrade. on
the large green. where football and
cricket are played in their seasons, the
village lads and the young men fol-
lowed his lead as naturally as dogs
follow their masters. Play on the green
was fiat when he was not there.
Socially. he utterly ignored any dis
tinction between churchmen and Dis
sentsrs, making every one feel that ne
recognized them as fellow villagers. as
men and women. and not as persons
bearing sectarian tickets. lie soon be-
came the one distinguished personality
in the parish.
But all this would not have made
Crowsnest famous, however much IL
added to the pleasantness of life there
The parish had been the black spot,
enthusiastically, In the whole diocese
our new vicar set about the task of
whitening IT, He begged OF the bishop.
Ills bicycle was ID be seen at the gates
of all the wealthy people i'm the parish
es that lay around. He wanued money,
and he got IL.
Then he went TO work. For months
ne was as busy as prime minister
First, he made the church safe. The
ringers had been afraid that the bells
would fall down upon. their heads; now
they can ring merry peals without risk
Then he made the church decent, and
one by one he added modest decora-
tions. There was soon not a Sunday on
Nhlch the interior was not frightened
Dy flowers, the willing gifts Of the de-
lighted parishioners. He formed
choir. which he trained and led himself
lie begged decent instrument for his
church. Then the church yard showed
neat paths and dainty flower beds The
hypnotized villagers hardly knew where
they We're.
But this was not ALL Like Chaucer's
poor parson, he wrought as well as
taught; he worked as well as begged
Much of the repairs and decoration
was the work of his own hands. He
would throw off his coat and don an
apron and labor with the men, max
ang the master mechanic deduct the
value OF his work from the bill. And
many little jobs he did without hired
help. The villagers had never heard
OF such a man. had scarcely conceived
or such parson.
Was IL wonder that the parish be- |
came famous? 1t grew TO be the talk |
OF the county. and strangers came over |
from the neighboring town in fine |
weather.
one day carriage, containing two |
lad.es. drove up to the vicarage door.
is the vicar at homer" asked one OF |
them.
He's in the village somewhere.
ma am answered the woman i'm |
charge.
When will he be home again?"
There's no telling, ma'am."
We wish to see the church."
YOUR find IT open, ma'am. It's al
ways open now, ma'am.'
So the carriage drove TO the church
yard gate, and the ladies alighted. Not
only was the church open. but a man
VAS pusy painting the belfry door. Aft
er inspecting the Interior the ladies'
Dne or whom was old and the other |
'ouns-Went up 10 the painter and en- |
-ered into conversation with him.
our church looks neat and pretty"
aid the younger lady.
Yes. we think So" replied tho naint.
II .as he went on with his work.
Yes, IL was picture then!"
Ihe rector must have worked hard |
. get so much done in so poor a par
sh." P
Why shouldn't he work harde The
ther villagers have to work hard"
wen, yes. or course they have But |
ne vicar is gentleman. and"
Al the more reason why he should |
10 his duty"
As the painter said this. he stoppej |
alnting. raised himself erect and
49,, '''"'Sh' ihip the ladNS s eyes.
quite agree with YOU" replied tho !
ldy. You working men naturally and
ightly 1hink that a gentleman ought |
work hard. So do l. But gentlemen |
o not always work hard"
We are all too apt to neglect those
utles that have nothing directly to do
nth food and clothing Men work hard
Keep the wolf from the door. but
ome men neglect the work which does !
ot feed them"
Quite a village philosopher said $
ne elder lady, in an aside To her ;
aughter I
Il wonder whether YOU would work
, hard II YOU could live without doing |
said the younger lady. with a smile J
The painter again stopped his brush
nd looked a. his interlocutor They
9th laughed heartily. !
Excuse me. said the painter. apolo-
aticallY. 'for laughing There Is
nmorous side 10 most things and I !,
ust now and then have my laugh" !
81 don't quite see the humorous side y
the present case" said the young 4
DIV. little puzzled. She would have :