" "It is a
horse I want," said the man. "Precisely--a horse: I am aware of it,"
quoth the curate, and the man went off, not a little perplexed, after
which the curate reports this new affair to the rector, who says it was
to an umbrella, not to a horse, that such a story was applicable. Should
any one come again to borrow a horse, he ought to say, "I much regret
that I cannot comply with your request. The fact is, we lately turned
him out to grass, and becoming frolicsome, he dislocated his thigh, and
is now lying, covered with straw, in a corner of the stable." "Something
like that," adds the rector, "something with an air of truth about it,
is what you should say." A third parishioner comes to invite the rector
and the curate to a feast at his house. "For myself," says the curate,
"I promise to come; but I fear it will not be convenient for the rector
to accompany me." "I presume then," says the man, "that he has some
particular business on hand?" "No, not any particular business," answers
the curate; "but the truth is, we lately turned him out to grass, and
becoming frisky, he dislocated his thigh, and now lies in a corner of
the stable, covered with straw." "I spoke of the rector," says the
parishioner. "Yes, of the rector. I quite understand," responds the
curate, very complaisantly, upon which the man goes away, not knowing
what to make of such a strange account of the rector's condition.
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