The list of subscriptions was filled up in no time; the contest was, not who should escape the contribution, but who should be the foremost to subscribe.

A splendid silver inkstand was made, and engraved with an appropriate inscription; the curate was invited to a public breakfast, at the before-mentioned Goat and Boots; the inkstand was presented in a neat speech by Mr.
Gubbins, the ex-churchwarden, and acknowledged by the curate in terms which drew tears into the eyes of all present--the very waiters were melted.
One would have supposed that, by this time, the theme of universal admiration was lifted to the very pinnacle of popularity.

No such thing.
The curate began to cough; four fits of coughing one morning between the Litany and the Epistle, and five in the afternoon service.

Here was a discovery--the curate was consumptive.

How interestingly melancholy! If the young ladies were energetic before, their sympathy and solicitude now knew no bounds.