rch for
matins. It was thought well to introduce a hymn for the festival (our
hymn book in those days was Mercer's Church Psalter and Hymn Book) and
Wren was to take charge, as usual, of the barrel-organ. My father gave
out hymn 292 at the appointed place, but only silence followed. Again
"292," and then came a voice from the west gallery, "The 283rd!" My
father did not take the hint, and again, rather unfortunately, hazarded
"Hymn 292." This was too much for our organist, who called in still
louder tones, "'Tis the 283rd I tell you!" Fortunately, we were a small
company, but matters would have been the same, I dare say, on a Sunday.

In the vestry subsequently Wren explained to my father, "You know there
are _two Johns_; the 292nd hymn belongs to John the _Baptist's_ Day;
_this_ is John the _Evangelist's_."

The confusion once over my father was much amused with the incident, and
frequently entertained friends with it afterwards, when I am bound to
say it did not lose its richness of detail. "Don't I keep a-telling on
you?" was the fully developed question, as I last remember hearing the
story told. The above, however, I can vouch for as strictly correct,
being one of the select party privileged to witness the occurrence.

* * * * *

Mr. Frederick W. Hackwood, the historian of Wednesbury, has kindly sent
the following description of the famous clerks of that place:

The office of parish clerk in Wednesbury has been held by at least two
remarkable characters. "Old George Court," as he was called--and by some
who are still alive--held the post in succession to his grandfather for
a great number of years. His grandfather was George Watkins, in his time
one of the principal tradesmen in the town. His hospitable house was the
place of entertainment for a long succession of curates-in-charge and
other officiating ministers for all the long years that the vicar (Rev.
A. Bunn Haden) was a non-resident pluralist. But the position created by
this state of things was remarkable. Watkins and the small coterie who
acted with him became the absolute and dominant authority in all
parochial matters. One curate complained of him and his nominee wardens
(in 1806) that "these men had been so long in office, and had become so
cruel and oppressive," that some of the parishioners resolved at last to
dismiss them. The little oligarchy, however, was too strong to be ousted
at any vestry that ever was called.