was a little alarming.  He found the old clerk somewhat officious, I think.  One evening, after service, when some strangers from Evesham attended—­for Badsey was a pleasant walk on a summer evening—­the clerk announced to the Vicar, with great jubilation, that “the gentleman with the party from Evesham expressed himself as very well satisfied with the service.”  No doubt the clerk had received a practical proof of the satisfaction.  The clerk imagined, I believe, that he was as much responsible for the conduct of the services as the Vicar, and thought the latter would be equally pleased with the stranger’s commendation.  He was disappointed, I fear, for the Vicar did not seem in the least impressed, showing, too, some annoyance at what doubtless appeared to him great presumption.

At the time of the Boer War, followed by the Boxers’ revolt in China and the Siege of Peking, when telegrams were exhibited in the post-office every Sunday morning, I saw one day, on my way to church, that Peking had been relieved.  The Vicar—­my third—­preached on the subject of the terrors of the siege—­his sermon having been written on the previous day—­and drew a harrowing picture of the fate of the defenders.  After service I asked if he had not seen the telegram, and told him the good news.  “Good gracious!” said he; “I am glad I didn’t know that before the service; what should I have done about my sermon?” I was a little surprised that the delivery of a sermon which was no longer to the point should appear more important than the announcement of the happy event; but perhaps the position would have been somewhat undignified had he been obliged to explain, and dismiss the congregation with apologies.

An elderly Vicar, in a parish in the adjoining county, Gloucestershire, found the morning service with a sermon very fatiguing, and the patron, the Squire, suggested that the ante-Communion service would be less tiring in place of the latter.  He was not a very interesting preacher, and the Squire was quite as well pleased as the Vicar when he agreed.  There was never a sermon at the morning service thereafter.

Other denominations besides the Church, of course, existed in the parish and neighbourhood; we did not hear much about them, but the following story was related as occurring in a neighbouring village.  To see the point it is necessary to introduce the actors; they consisted of Daniel S. and Jim H., rival hedgers in the art of “pleaching,” of which Joseph Arch was such a notable exponent.  Daniel had lately been employed upon a job of this kind for a farmer, Mr. (locally Master) R. The scene was the room that did duty for a chapel in the village.

Daniel S. advanced to the reading-desk, and, turning over the leaves of the Bible to find the Book of Daniel, announced sententiously:  “Let’s see what Dannel done in his dai (day).”  Up jumped Jim H. at the back of the room:  “Oh, I can tell tha (thee) what Dannel done in his dai—­cut a yedge (hedge) for Master R., and took whome all the best of the ’ood (wood)!”