business is to cultivate their souls and not their fields."
"What in the world is the matter with you?" said we. "Tell us what has happened." "Well, come in first," said he, "upstairs where we shall be more comfortable. My throat is as dry as a lime-kiln, I must have something to drink. Now what do you say to that? You must have tasted worse in your time. But would you believe it, my friends, those brutes actually wanted me to have fasts and feasts every day, and for what do you think? For nothing in the world but insects."—"Insects!" we shouted. "Well, you really must have a bee in your bonnet; are you crazy, or are we?" This was the last straw, and he protested indignantly that it was bad enough to be troubled by all this folly, without being called a fool. "Well then, tell us all about it like a sensible man."—"You will drive me to perdition," said he, wiping the sweat from his brow, "the good Lord and I have been so harried and bothered with all this nonsense, I must try to calm down!—You know these people of mine want their vicar to provide rain and sunshine for them. They jeer at the eternal and don't keep their souls any cleaner than their feet, but they expect me to make the sun and the moon stand still at their desire.—'Not too much rain,' they say, 'now a
