HOW PARSONS ARE SWINDLED.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LII, Issue 41, 13 March 1909, Page 3

HOW PARSONS ARE SWINDLED.

(By the Rev. Forbes Phillips, Vicar of Uot'leston.j

Two clerical weaknesses stand out dear and well delined. Tito par*on lia-s a deep iuvi.' fur his church and his culiege frii'iul-.-., ami these two all'cctions of his open tho way to a distinct class of Mviudlor. Lei me give a few examples, which might he called coiue.ssiouo. 1 have a ! lurking suspicion that I am as sharp as men, hut rarely a week passes by but J have to acknowledge to myself, and oil this occasion tu the readers of this article, that J have been 'dime.' A man, neatly dressed and smart in his appiarance, called upun me one day recently. "You don't remember me?" he said as he advanced. "No," 1 replied. "You only saw me once," he went on, "so it is excusable. But my brother was up at the 'Varsity with you, and I came over and spent the day with him, and met you.'' I apologised for not recognising him. and asked his mime. ••13rowne, ,! he replied—'with an 'e' at the end. You remember my brothar > u>e<l to be rather touchy on that point/''' u'ud he laughed genially—so did I. SCHOOL FRIEND DODGE, The story seemed natural, but 1 could not i"villi his brother. "Browne —Monkey Browne the fellows used to call him/' ho rattled on. j

"J tliink I- remember something about it'' was my weak rejoinder to tide. "At all cvi.'iit-.'l am pleased to sue you." Tlii'ii hU fiicr grew gloomy. "1 am in

a ridiculous hole. 1 have come down here for a few days, and 1 left instructions for my letters to be sent to the Queen's Hotel, and I am stony broke."' AgSuin he laughed heartily. "1 have written to say 1 am at the Cliff Hotel, and, of course, it will be all right. .Meanwhile"—and he pulled, out the lining >f his pockets—"can you lend me a sovereign'; Von shall have it to-morrow, for 1 shall wire for some cash." •'Certainly,'' 1 said, and I passed him the amount. I have not seen or heard of him since. GIVE STALNED-GLASS WINDOWS. Sometimes your swindler poses as a church benefactor. "A beautiful church —a magnificent creed in stone!'' was the comment of one gentleman I accompanied on. jus round of inspection in my parish church. "It is fortunate we have met, for 1 Jiave sonic line old si.xtecnthcentury Flemish glass—quite siiilicicnt lo fill that small window. You can have it if you care to pay the carriage.'' 1 gladly oll'ered to pay the carriage. "It is stored with my things in London, 1 know a chap who would pack it carefully, for he is in the stained-glass business. I'll write about it at once. No, I'll wire." He called next day and informed, me that the glass had been sent oil'. "Hut the rascal has stuck me for the packing of it," he growled. "You must let me pay that,'' I said. It was 7s Ud, and the railway charges lis (id, so I parted with lis. 1 have seen ] nothing for my money yet. A neighboring parson was involved in financial difficulties through one of these rascals, which resulted in him being put out of his living. He called upon me first, and oll'ered to spend a thousand pouuds on the church. SIX MONTHS' FKEE IiJDGIXG. He suggested staying with me until the work was done, giving as his reason that the two of us could keep constant watch on the progress of our scheme. This arrangement was not altogether to my liking, and 1 proposed that he should pay into the bank-to the church account at least A/500 of the amount of lus gift. This worried him. lie said he had never been asked to do such a tiling before. Filially he did a little bluster ami left mv house-but not before lie] had received a strong hint from me to ,r,', However, he did not go far away, and thi- time he succeeded in swindling a vicar in a most shameful way. Vfler niiikiiin his acquaintance through his professed "interest in churches, he , put forward, his oiler, which was to give live stained-glass windows, accompanied with the condition that he should stay with the vicar and see, the work satisfactorily done. The windows were ordered in the vicar's name, and the rascal lived upon him for nearly six months. When the linn sent word that the work was finished and asked for a cheque, tin. scamp bolted. . The vicar was called upon to pay, and, •is he was a poor man and quite unable to meet a call of a thousand pounds he wis sent away from his church, and the living was sequestered for the benefit oi the debt—Pearson's Weekly.