The Vicar’s Chummy
For many years the Vicar got around the parish on his trusty bicycle. Then one day, in a moment of recklessness, he bought an old, secondhand, Austin Seven. He was very proud of his little car and the villagers soon got used to seeing him tootling round the lanes, waving gaily to all and sundry.
It came as a surprise, therefore, when one Saturday morning Farmer Giles met the Vicar walking slowly down the lane, a downcast expression on his face.
“Why Vicar, whatever is the matter? And where’s your little old car?” enquired the farmer.
“Alas, my son,” replied the Vicar. “Some miscreant has stolen it, from outside the vicarage.”
“Have you reported it to the police?.”
“Well,” said the Vicar, “As a Christian I want to give the villain the benefit of the doubt and would not ask any questions should the car be returned. But I must confess I really don’t know how to go about getting it back.”
Farmer Giles thought for a while, then said. “Here’s an idea. Tomorrow you must preach a sermon on the Ten Commandments. When you get to “Thou Shalt Not Steal”, stare hard at each member of the congressional. That will surely prick the conscience of the thief and he’ll return your car.”
“A capital idea!” exclaimed the Vicar, and strolled off humming “Onward Christian Soldiers”.
The following Monday, Farmer Giles was pleased to se the Vicar once again motoring down the lane in his “Seven”. “I see that worked, then, Vicar.” he said.
“Not exactly,” replied the clergyman. “I preached a sermon on the Ten Commandments, as you suggested, but when I got to “Thou Shalt Not Commit Adultery”, I suddenly remembered where I’d left the damn car!”
For many years the Vicar got around the parish on his trusty bicycle. Then one day, in a moment of recklessness, he bought an old, secondhand, Austin Seven. He was very proud of his little car and the villagers soon got used to seeing him tootling round the lanes, waving gaily to all and sundry.
It came as a surprise, therefore, when one Saturday morning Farmer Giles met the Vicar walking slowly down the lane, a downcast expression on his face.
“Why Vicar, whatever is the matter? And where’s your little old car?” enquired the farmer.
“Alas, my son,” replied the Vicar. “Some miscreant has stolen it, from outside the vicarage.”
“Have you reported it to the police?.”
“Well,” said the Vicar, “As a Christian I want to give the villain the benefit of the doubt and would not ask any questions should the car be returned. But I must confess I really don’t know how to go about getting it back.”
Farmer Giles thought for a while, then said. “Here’s an idea. Tomorrow you must preach a sermon on the Ten Commandments. When you get to “Thou Shalt Not Steal”, stare hard at each member of the congressional. That will surely prick the conscience of the thief and he’ll return your car.”
“A capital idea!” exclaimed the Vicar, and strolled off humming “Onward Christian Soldiers”.
The following Monday, Farmer Giles was pleased to se the Vicar once again motoring down the lane in his “Seven”. “I see that worked, then, Vicar.” he said.
“Not exactly,” replied the clergyman. “I preached a sermon on the Ten Commandments, as you suggested, but when I got to “Thou Shalt Not Commit Adultery”, I suddenly remembered where I’d left the damn car!”
Rick
In deepest Norfolk
In deepest Norfolk