Both the vicar and his curate were extremely devout churchmen, and so when Lent came round they naturally decided that each must deny himself something, and thus set a proper example to the flock.
Unfortunately, however, the curate could not make up his mind as to what he should forego. He therefore consulted the vicar on the point and asked what his worthy superior had decided to do without.
“I shall abstain from tobacco,” said the vicar, in answer to the curate’s question, “and I can but suggest that you should either do the same or refrain from taking alcohol.”
“But, vicar,” protested the curate, “you surely know that I am a non-smoker and a teetotaler.”
“Ah! I had forgotten that,” replied the vicar; “in that case the only thing left for you is to put your wife from you for six weeks and live as a celibate.”
This, the curate agreed, would indeed be self-denial; however, he promptly proceeded to put the plan into action.
Already he had got about half-way through this trying period, when one morning he was awakened by a gentle tap on his door.
“Yes; what is it?” he demanded, wondering why on earth he should be aroused at such an unearthly time.
“John, dear,” came his wife’s plaintive voice from the other side, “the vicar’s in his garden, and—and he’s smoking!”