Mr. Puffin arrived at the Vicarage looking very much like an ordinary clergyman, save that the round black felt that he wore had a brim of portentous width; and Mrs. Dodd noticed with some astonishment that the white tie, which all clergymen of her acquaintance habitually wore, was conspicuous by its absence, and that the new curate appeared to have put on his collar wrong side before. At first it was a mystery to her how he could have got into that collar. There was certainly no visible means of entrance in front. Puffin wore his hair very long indeed, while the whole of his face was clean shaven. Mrs. Dodd, too, gave a start when he proceeded to address her as "his dear sister;" but she was still more astonished when he removed his long clerical great-coat and she saw that the Reverend Barnes Puffin was clad in a long black garment with innumerable little buttons running from his neck to within two inches of the ground. Around his waist was a long black sash with a silken fringe. As he gave the vicar's wife his arm, when they went in to dinner, he suddenly produced from his pocket a little square cap, which he placed upon his head. He did full justice to the stewed eels, with which the meal commenced; but he never removed the little cap during the whole of the entertainment, nor could the vicar and his wife persuade him to partake of any of the numerous dainties which composed the rest of the feast. At first he said he wasn't hungry. A curate who refused _entrées_ was a novelty to Mrs. Dodd. "I fear you are not well, Mr. Puffin," she said as he declined woodcock on toast. "Dear Mrs. Dodd, I remember that it is the Eve of St. Radegonde, Virgin and Martyr." The vicar and his wife looked at one another; but they respected Mr. Puffin's prejudices, and ceased to press him.