Another clerk caused amusement and consternation in a south-country parish and roused the rector’s wrath.  The young rector, who was of a sporting turn of mind, told him that he wanted to get to Worthing on a Sunday afternoon in time for the races which began on the following day, and that therefore there would be no service.  This was explained to the clerk in confidence.  The rector’s horror may be imagined when he heard him give out in loud sonorous tones:  “This is to give notice, no suvviss here this arternoon, becos measter meyans to get to Worthing to-night to be in good toime for reayces to-morrow mornin’.”

Old Moody, of Redbourn, Herts, was a typical parish clerk, and his vicar, Lord Frederick Beauclerk, and the curate, the Rev. W.S.  Wade, were both hunting parsons of the old school.  One Sunday morning Moody announced, just before giving out the hymn, that “the vicar was going on Friday to the throwing off of the Leicestershire hounds, and could not return home until Monday next week; therefore next Sunday there would not be any service in the church on that day.”  Moody was quite one of the leading characters of the place, whose words and opinions were law.

No one in those days thought of disputing the right or questioning the conduct of a rector closing the church, and abandoning the accustomed services on a Sunday, in order to keep a sporting engagement.

That other notice about the fishing parson is well known.  The clerk announced:  “This is to gi notus, there won’t be no surviss here this arternoon becos parson’s going fishing in the next parish.”  When he was remonstrated with after service for giving out such a strange notice, he replied: 

“Parson told I so ’fore church.”

“Surely he said officiating—­not fishing?” said his monitor.  “The bishop would not be pleased to hear of one of his clergy going fishing on a Sunday afternoon.”

The clerk was not convinced, and made a clever defence, grounded on the employment of some of the Apostles.  The reader’s imagination will supply the gist of the argument.

Another rector, who had lost his favourite setter, told his clerk to make inquiries about it, but was much astonished to hear him give it out as a notice in church, coupled with the offer of a reward of three pounds if the dog should be restored to his owner.

The clerk of the sporting parson was often quite as keen as his master in following the chase.  It was not unusual for rectors to take “occasional services,” weddings or funerals, on the way to a meet, wearing “pink” under their surplices.  A wedding was proceeding in a Devonshire church, and when the happy pair were united and the Psalm was just about to be said, the clerk called out, “Please to make ’aste, sir, or he’ll be gone afore you have done.”  The parson nodded and looked inquiringly at the clerk, who said, “He’s turned into the vuzz bushes down in ten acres.  Do look sharp, sir[72].”