he got him on the hook. But this is the very thing which all great
preachers are too benevolent to do. Dr. Upround looked at this sinner,
who was getting into a fright upon his own account, though not a bad
preacher when he could afford it; and the cobbler could no more look up
to the doctor than when he charged him a full crown beyond the contract.
In his kindness for all who seemed convinced of sin, the good preacher
halted, and looked at Mr. Jobbins with a soft, relaxing gaze. Jobbins
appeared as if he would come to church forever, and never cheat any
sound clergyman again; whereupon the generous divine omitted a whole
page of menaces prepared for him, and passed prematurely to the tender
strain which always winds up a good sermon.

Now what did Jobbins do in return for all this magnanimous mercy?
Invited to dine with the senior church-warden upon the strength of
having been at church, and to encourage him for another visit, and being
asked, as soon as ever decency permitted, what he thought of Parson
Upround's doctrine, between two crackles of young griskin (come straight
from the rectory pig-sty), he was grieved to express a stern opinion
long remembered at Flamborough:

"Ca' yo yon mon 'Dr. Uproond?' I ca' un 'Dr. Upandoon.'"

From that day forth the rector of the parish was known far and wide as
"Dr. Upandown," even among those who loved him best. For the name well
described his benevolent practice of undoing any harsh thing he might
have said, sometimes by a smile, and very often with a shilling, or a
basket of spring cabbages. So that Mrs. Upround, when buttoning up his
coat--which he always forgot to do for himself--did it with the words,
"My dear, now scold no one; really it is becoming too expensive." "Shall
I abandon duty," he would answer, with some dignity, "while a shilling