, bumptious fellow, fond of quoting the
classics, etc. One day a learned classic scholar attended his service,
and was heard to say, after each quotation, "That's Horace," "That's
Plato," and such-like, until the preacher was at his "wits' ends" how
to quiet the man. At last, leaning over the pulpit, he looked the man in
the face, and is reported to have said, "Who the devil are you?" "That's
his own!" was the prompt response.

* * * * *

In one of the village churches near Honiton, in 1864, the usual duet
between the parson and clerk had been the custom, when the vicar
appealed to the congregation to take their part. In a little while they
took courage, and did so. This annoyed the clerk, and he could not make
the responses, and made so many mistakes that the vicar drew his
attention to the matter. He replied, with much irritation, "How can _I_
do the service with a lot of men and women a-buzzing and a-fizzing
about me?"

* * * * *

A somewhat similar story is told of another church:

An old gentleman, now in his eightieth year, remembers attending Romford
Church when a youth, and says that at that time (1840) the parish clerk
was a person who greatly magnified his office. On one occasion he
checked the young man for audibly responding, on the ground that he, the
clerk, was the person to respond audibly, and that other people were to
respond inaudibly.

* * * * *

Communicated by Miss Emily J. Heaton, of Sitting-bourne:

My father lived and worked as the clergyman of a parish until he was
eighty-nine years of age. He remembered a clerk in a Yorkshire parish in
the time of one of the Georges. The clergyman said the versicle, "O
Lord, save the King," and the clerk made no reply. The prayer was
repeated, but still no answer. He then touched the clerk, who sat in
the desk below, and who replied:

"A we'ant! He won't tak tax off 'bacca!"

* * * * *

Communicated by Mr. Frederick Sherlock:

I remember as a lad attending a church which owned a magnificent
specimen of the parish clerk. He used to wear a dress-coat, and it was
his practice to follow the clergy from the vestry, and while the vicar
and curate were saying their private prayers in the reading-desk in
which they both sat together, the venerable clerk with measured tread
passed down the centre of the church affably smiling and bow