The next day the reign of the Reverend Barnes Puffin commenced. The old church, where service had been held as seldom as possible from time immemorial, was now thrown open daily for matins and evensong. At first there was no congregation; but the Reverend Barnes Puffin looked up all the old pensioners, particularly the old women who were in receipt of parish relief at home, and in his persuasive but forcible way he made all these poor old people understand that their comforts, for which they had hitherto given nothing in return, would depend upon good behaviour, that is to say, going to church. Nor did Mr. Puffin confine his ministrations to the lower orders. How he managed it I don't know; but before he had been three months in the place most of the younger ladies in the parish flocked to the services. I suppose he made love to them in a quiet, clerical sort of way. The Misses Sleek, looking as plump and pretty as ever, but dressed with a prim demureness which considerably astonished their father, were among his first converts; and they used to hurry to church on foot twice a day with praiseworthy regularity. They considered themselves well rewarded if the curate walked home with them occasionally to dinner, and so beatified The Park by his presence. But Mr. Puffin egregiously failed with Miss Grains. She, too, had felt inclined at first to place her conscience in Mr. Puffin's hands; but young Mr. Wurzel, an easy-going fellow enough at most times, objected to Puffin's addressing his affianced bride, save from the pulpit, as "his dear sister." He had even told Miss Grains that he looked upon Mr. Puffin as a "philanderer," and that "he didn't hold with philanderers." So Miss Grains made no alteration in her costume, and she turned a deaf ear to Mr. Puffin's ecclesiastical authority. It was not long before King's Warren Church rejoiced in a surpliced choir. There was rather a martial clang of hob-nailed boots during the numerous processions of the choir on Sundays; but the service was undoubtedly much more imposing than in the old days. Mr. Puffin did wonders with the small material at his command. He would have made an admirable stage-manager. He never missed a possible effect, and he considerably astonished the King's Warreners when he preached his first funeral sermon. He was a good preacher, and always held the attention of the congregation. But perhaps some few of them smiled when he led up to the fact that the silver cord was loosed and the golden bowl broken, in an ornate and sensational harangue reaching an unexpected climax by tilting over the tumbler at his side, which fell with a crash and was shivered in a thousand pieces on the floor. There were no sleepers in King's Warren Church when the Reverend Barnes Puffin graced the pulpit after that. And yet Puffin was a sincere man, and worked energetically according to his lights.