* * * * *
"The Psalms that day offered a fine field for his Anglo-Saxon plurals
and south-country terminations; the 'housen,' 'priestesses,' 'beasteses
of the field,' came rolling freely forth from his mouth, upon which no
remonstrances by the curate had had the smallest effect. Was he, Michael
Major, who had fulfilled the important office 'afore that young
jackanapes was born, to be teached how 'twere to be done?' he had
observed more than once in rather a high tone, though in general he
patronised the successive occupants of the pulpit with much kindness.
'And this 'un, as cannot spike English nayther,' he added superciliously
concerning the north-country accent of his pastor and master."
On weekdays he wore a smock-frock, which he called his surplice, with
wonderful fancy stitches on the breast and back and sleeves. At length
he had to resign his post and take to his bed, and was not afraid to die
when his time came. It is a very tender and touching little story, a
very faithful picture of an old clerk[43].
[Footnote 43: _Essays and Tales_, by Frances Parthenope Lady Verney, p.
67.]
Passing from grave to gay, we find Tom Hood sketching the clerk
attending on his vicar, who is about to perform a wedding service and
make two people for ever happy. He christens the two officials "the
joiners, no rough mechanics, but a portly full-blown vicar with his
clerk, both rubicund, a peony paged by a pink.
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