Their Just Deserts

Chapter Two

That afternoon at five o'clock, a messenger was sent to the domicile of the said Mr. Collins requesting that he report to The Most Right Revered Clarke's office at 9:00 a.m. the following morning. Upon the receipt of this correspondence Mr. Collins began doing what he did best, perspiring profusely. Mr. Collins' kept his roommate awake that night by the constant audible self-evaluation. The subjects of which was his worthiness or unworthiness as the case might be. Said roommate decided that sleep was a lost cause, so, in retaliation and to gain some enjoyment from a sleepless night, stated as he shook his head,

"You're done for Collins. No one is ever called to The Most Right Reverend's office unless he's being given the boot."

Adding to Mr. Collins dilemma was the devilish timing on the part of the sender of the message. Now Collins would have hours and hours in which his small mind could make much from little. After all, the sender was sure that this time lapse, and the expected sleepless night would add to the readiness with which Mr. Collins would accept any suggestion given.

Mr. Collins arrived promptly at 9:00 a.m. and timidly knocked on The Reverend's door. Upon hearing "Enter," he found himself face to face not only with the Head of the College of Divinity, Cambridge University, but also that college's entire board, which had unbeknown to him, just put the final nail in his "going away" coffin. Mr. Collins bowed exceedingly low, wiped his brow, then his entire face and finally the top of his balding head. He was directed to be seated and the "game" began.

The Right Reverend began,

"Mr. Collins, we are pleased that you could join us. Allow me to assure you that the purpose of this meeting will surprise you, and should make you quite happy. Perhaps as happy as it has made all of us. The entire teaching staff here at Cambridge has taken notice of you. You truly are exceptional. Never in the recent history of this establishment has one man received so much attention from our board. Please now Mr. Collins, we would be interested in hearing from you. What are your dreams and aspirations?"

Mr. Collins bowed his head, slouched his shoulders, wiped his brow and gathered his thoughts. He was never at a loss when it came to complementary address. He had written and catalogued hundreds for use at moments like this. He bowed the second time or was it his third and said,

"Dear Sir,"

He then cleared his throat, twice.

"I do not feel it premature to address you as Distinguished Colleagues, it is due to your gracious condescension that I appear before you this day. I well remember my first days here at Cambridge…

It was about this time that a loud thud was heard as Smythe's head hit the back of his chair, he had fallen asleep...again. The rest of the Board envied Smythe his escape as Mr. Collins remembered and remember and remember. He next revealed that closest to his heart was a dream to have a country church where he could, with great humility, do the most good, write sermons, study and do research, tend a garden, and be of service to the poor unfortunates. Nay, not only to these, he yearned most prodigiously, to serve with humility persons of rank and stature. The Most Right Reverend smiled as he thought,

'There is a god that answers prayers.'

Upon completion of his rather lengthy address Mr. Collins bowed again and backed away from his audience only to encounter a small table which was sent toppling to the floor. Amid continuing apologies and his fruitless efforts to stand the table upright again, Reverend Clarke spoke,

"Mr. Collins, never in all my days have I heard a man's inner self so truthfully revealed. I am certain that you talents are unique, shall we say, 'one of a kind', Sir. We have reviewed Cambridge's history for a means to allow your talents to be used as soon as possible, and find that your varied gifts would be wasted here for the next few months. The board has discovered that on three other occasions a private ordination was arranged for special students of Cambridge. (The Most Right Reverent failed to mention that one of the two such ordinations were arranged posthumously and the other one over the bed of a dying student). Since your tuition was paid long ago, and you have been a serious student the entire board feels that you fit into that very special category that will allow us to give you a private ordination."

Mr. Collins could not believe his ears. He bowed several more times, wiped his brow once and then again and smiled self-admiringly and asked himself, 'How do I deserve such an honor, to be ordained Easter week, ahead of my entire class?'

Before Mr. Collins left the room he was advised as to the time of his ordination, the proper dress and who would be present. His backwards departure from the room, was accompanied by a curtain-rending snort from the somnolent Reverend Smythe.

After Mr. Collins dismissal the board retired and The Most Right Reverend set about answering 'The Letter'. After reading its contents again he replied as succinctly as would appear polite:

12th April 18_

Cambridge

Your Ladyship:

After a very careful search, we have come across a perfect match for the position described in your letter. The young man in question is recently ordained. His name is Reverent William Collins and was granted special honors by our board. We are certain that the two of you will have a perfectly amicable relationship since he can so readily supply your needs and you his.

Sincerely,

The Most Right Reverend Henry E. Clarke

Head of Divinity College

Cambridge University

The Most Right Reverend Clarke returned his pen to the inkwell, blotted, sanded his letter and affixed his seal. His mind traveled into future months with thought of what a pleasant place Cambridge would be once again. As he slowly rose from his chair he hiked his robe and abandoned decorum long enough to dance a jig and click his heels.