"Well,
sir," said the clerk, "it is like this: they tells me as how they finds
they _can't do it for the money_."
* * * * *
The following reminiscences are supplied by the Rev. W. Frederick Green,
and are worthy of record:
I well remember the parish clerk of Woburn, in Bedfordshire, more than
sixty years ago. His name was Joe Brewer--a bald-headed, short, stumpy
man, who wore black knee-breeches, grey stockings, and shoes. He was
also the town crier. He always gave out the hymns from the front of the
west gallery. "Let us sing to the praise and glory of God, hymn--" Once
I heard him call out instead, "O yes! O yes! O yes! This is to give
notice," and then, recollecting he was in church, with a loud "O
crikey!" he began "Let us sing," etc.
Collections in church were made by him in a china soup plate from each
pew. Ours was a large square family pew. One Sunday my brother put into
the plate a new coin (I think a florin), which Brewer had never seen
before, and which he thought was a token or medal, and thinking my
brother was playing a trick upon him, said in a loud voice, "Now, Master
Charles, none of them larks here."
I have also seen him at afternoon service (there was no evening service
in those days), when it unexpectedly came on too dark for the clergyman
to see his MS.
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