A greedy man, that parson was, to be sure! I recollect his once eating up the whole of some little bird at dinner, and by way of diverting attention from his greediness, he told how he had heard that a rook soaked in vinegar and then dressed in a particular way, could not be distinguished from the bird he was then eating.

I saw by the grim look of my grandfather's face that the parson's doing and saying displeased him; and, child as I was, I had some notion of what was coming, when, as I was riding out on my little, white pony, by my grandfather's side, the next Friday, he stopped one of the gamekeepers, and bade him shoot one of the oldest rooks he could find.

I knew no more about it till Sunday, when a dish was set right before the parson, and Sir Urian said: 'Now, Parson Hemming, I have had a rook shot, and soaked in vinegar, and dressed as you described last Sunday.

Fall to, man, and eat it with as good an appetite as you had last Sunday.

Pick the bones clean, or by--, no more Sunday dinners shall you eat at my table!' I gave one look at poor Mr.Hemming's face, as he tried to swallow the first morsel, and make believe as though he thought it very good; but I could not look again, for shame, although my grandfather laughed, and kept asking us all round if we knew what could have become of the parson's appetite." "And did he finish it ?" I asked.
"O yes, my dear.