for the simple reason that the
aged vicar was scarcely audible; but there the clerk, after robing the
vicar, mounted to the gallery above the vestry, where, taking a front
seat, he watched for the exit of the vicar (whose habit it was to wait
for the young men, who also waited in the church porch for him to begin
the service!), and then, taking his seat at the organ, commenced the
voluntary. It was his duty also to give out the hymns. I have known him
play an eight-line tune to a four-line verse (or psalm--we used Tate and
Brady), repeating the words of each verse twice!

The organ produced the most curious sounds. In course of time the mice
got into it, and the churchwardens, of whom the clerk was one,
approached the vicar with the information, at the same time venturing a
hint that the organ was quite worn out and that a harmonium would be
more acceptable to the congregation than the present music. His reply
was that a harmonium was not a sufficiently sacred instrument, and
added, "Let a mouse-trap be set at once."

Robert Dicker, quondam cabinet-maker in the town of Crediton, Devon,
reigned for many years as parish clerk to the, at one time, collegiate
church of the same town. He appears to have fulfilled his office
satisfactorily up to about 1870, when his mind became somewhat feeble.
Nevertheless, no desire was apparent to shorten the days of his office,
as he was regular in his attendance and musically inclined; but when he
began to play pranks upon the vicar it became necessary to consider the
advisability of finding a substitute who should do the work and receive
half the pay. One of his escapades was to stand up in the middle of
service and call the vicar a liar; at another time he announced that a
wedding was to take place on a certain day. The vicar, therefore,
attended and waited for an hour, when the clerk affirmed that he must
have dreamed it! Dicker was given to the study of astronomy, and it is
related that he once gave a lecture on this subject in the Public Rooms.
There is close to the town a small park in memory of one of the Duller
family. A man one night was much alarmed when walking therein to
discover a bright light in one of the trees, and, later, to hear the
voice of the worthy clerk, who addressed him in these words: "Fear not,
my friend, and do not be affrighted. I am Robert Dicker, clerk of the
parish. I am examining the stars." Another account alleges that he
affirmed himself to be "countin