have seen him playing at teetotum with the children, on the great
stone at the door of our churchyard.

"Soon after I was made curate, he left the parish, and went nobody
knows whither; and in his room was found a bundle of papers, which
was brought to me by his landlord. I began to read them, but I soon
grew weary of the task; for, besides that the hand is intolerably
bad, I could never find the author in one strain for two chapters
together; and I don't believe there's a single syllogism from
beginning to end."

"I should be glad to see this medley," said I. "You shall see it
now," answered the curate, "for I always take it along with me a-
shooting." "How came it so torn?" "'Tis excellent wadding," said
the curate.--This was a plea of expediency I was not in a condition
to answer; for I had actually in my pocket great part of an edition
of one of the German Illustrissimi, for the very same purpose. We
exchanged books; and by that means (for the curate was a strenuous
logician) we probably saved both.

When I returned to town, I had leisure to peruse the acquisition I
had made: I found it a bundle of little episodes, put together
without art, and of no importance on the whole, with something of
nature, and little else in them. I was a good deal affected with
some very trifling passages in it; and had the name of Marmontel, or
a Richardson, been on the title-page--'tis odds that I should have
wept: But

One is ashamed to be pleased with the works of one knows not whom.