)
* * * * *
One of the speakers at the meeting of the Catholic Truth Society at
Bristol (Sept., 1895) told a story of a pious Catholic visiting
Westminster Abbey, and kneeling in a quiet corner for private devotion,
when he was summoned in stentorian tones to come and view the royal
tombs and chapels. "But I have seen them," said the stranger, "and I
only wish to say my prayers." "Prayers is over," said the verger.
"Still, I suppose," said the stranger, "there can be no objection to my
saying my prayers quietly here?" "No objection, sir!" said the irate
verger. "Why, it would be an insult to the Dean and Chapter."
* * * * *
The Rev. M.E. Jenkins writes his remembrances of several old clerks.
There was dear old Robert Livesay, of Blackburn parish church, whom
every one knew, his large rubicund face beaming with good nature and
humour--a very kindly old soul. In 1870 I was appointed to an old-world
Dale's parish, which had one of the real old Yorkshire clerks, Frank
Hutchinson. He was lame and blind in one eye, and well do I recall his
sonorous and tremulous response, his love for the Psalms (Tate and
Brady's); he "reckoned nought o' _Hymns Ancient and Modern_." I used
generally to find him with a long pipe in the vestry on my return from
afternoon service.
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