.."
An acquaintance remarked to him afterwards that the last meeting he
attended must have been a rather long one!
A story is told of the clerk at West Dean, near Alfriston, Sussex.
Starting the first line of the Psalm or hymn, he found that he could not
see owing to the failing light on a dark wintry afternoon. So he said,
"My eyes are dim, I canna see," at which the congregation, composed of
ignorant labourers, sang after him the _same_ words. The clerk was
wroth, and cried out, "Tarnation fools you all must be." Here again the
congregation sang the same words after the clerk.
Strange times, strange manners!
A writer in the _Spectator_ tells of a clerk who, like many of his
fellows, used to convert "leviathan" into "that girt livin' thing," thus
letting loose before his hearers' imagination a whole travelling
menagerie, from which each could select the beast which most struck his
fancy. This clerk was a picturesque personality, although, unlike his
predecessor, he had discarded top-boots and cords for Sunday wear in
favour of black broadcloth. When not engaged in marrying or burying one
of his flock, he fetched and carried for the neighbours from the
adjacent country town, or sold herrings and oranges (what mysterious
affinity is there between these two dissimilar edibles that they are
invariably hawked in company?) from door to door.
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