There were traces of the owner's polished taste in every direction, but at the same time samples of his love of out-door sports. For instance, in one corner there stood a polished canoe-paddle with a fascine of fishing-rods; in another corner a gun-case and a couple of cricket-bats; lying on a side-table, its handle carefully bound with string, was about the biggest croquet mallet that ever drove ball over a velvet lawn. A half-written sermon lay on the writing-table, and by it a cigar-box; while on the chimney-piece and in brackets were pipes, from the humble clay, through briars, to the tinted brown meerschaum with its amber tube. The greatest incongruity in the place, however, seeing that it was the snuggery of a man of peace, was a trophy of single-sticks, foils, masks and gloves, crossed by a couple of bows, in front of which were a sheaf of arrows and two pairs of boxing-gloves. "Looking at the gloves, Maine?" said the vicar, smiling. "Ah, I used to be a bit of a don with those at one time. You and I will put them on together some day. Just touch that bell." John Maine obeyed, while the young vicar found his keys, and opened a cabinet which was in two compartments, the one displaying a regular array of medicines, the other spirits, wine, and glasses. "Bring in some water, Mrs Slee," said the vicar. "And a sponge and a rag and the ragjack oil?" said Mrs Slee, eagerly. "No, Mrs Slee. It's medicine, not surgery to-day;" and the woman backed out, looking a little less angular and sad than a few weeks before. "I'm a regular quack, Maine, you see," said the vicar, smiling, as he poured into a great soda-water glass a certain quantity of tincture, added to it a couple of table-spoonfuls of brandy, and so much granulated magnesia, to which, when Mrs Slee returned, he poured about half a pint of pure cold well water. "There's a dose for you, my man," he said, as he passed it to John Maine, "that will set you right in an hour. Now, Mrs Slee, any one been?" "Yes, Bulger's girl's been here with a bottle for some wine," said Mrs Slee shortly, for "sir" and a respectful tone were still strangers to her tongue. "Bring the bottle in. Any one else?" "Maidens's boy says you promised his mother some tea." "So I did," said the vicar, opening a large canister, from which he took a packet which scented the room with its fragrance. "There it is. Now then, who else?" "Old Mumby's wife has come for some more wine."