Suppose a sudden madness--! Suppose a mere lapse into disrespect--! However, the truly brave man is not the man who does not feel fear but the man who overcomes it.

Every time and always the Vicar got his imagination under.
And he used always to address young Caddles stoutly in a good clear service tenor.
"Being a good boy, Albert Edward ?" And the young giant, edging closer to the wall and blushing deeply, would answer, "Yessir--trying." "Mind you do," said the Vicar, and would go past him with at most a slight acceleration of his breathing.

And out of respect for his manhood he made it a rule, whatever he might fancy, never to look back at the danger, when once it was passed.
In a fitful manner the Vicar would give young Caddles private tuition.
He never taught the monster to read--it was not needed; but he taught him the more important points of the Catechism--his duty to his neighbour for example, and of that Deity who would punish Caddles with extreme vindictiveness if ever he ventured to disobey the Vicar and Lady Wondershoot.

The lessons would go on in the Vicar's yard, and passers-by would hear that great cranky childish voice droning out the essential teachings of the Established Church.
"To onner 'n 'bey the King and allooer put 'nthority under 'im.

To s'bmit meself t'all my gov'ners, teachers, spir'shall pastors an' masters.