of the bridegroom. There seems to have
been a traditional connection between church bell-ringing and thirst,
for Gilbert White relates that when the bells of Selborne Church were
recast and a new one presented in 1735, "The day of the arrival of
this tuneable peal was observed as an high festival by the village,
and rendered more joyous by an order from the donor that the treble
bell should be fixed bottom upward in the ground and filled with
punch, of which all present were permitted to partake."

The Vicar of Badsey told me that at the neighbouring church of
Wickhamford, then also in his jurisdiction, that when he first came,
in the early fifties, it was customary, as the men entered the church
by the chancel door, to pitch their hats in a heap on the altar. Also
that on his home-coming with his bride, he was, the same evening,
requisitioned to put a stop to a fight between two drunken reprobates
outside the vicarage gate. Badsey people can in these modern times
point with pride to a much higher standard of civilization, and they
fully recognize that "'Eave 'alf a brick at his 'ead; Bill," is a
method of welcome to a stranger not considered precisely etiquette at
the present day.

There was no vestry before the restoration of Badsey Church; the
Vicar's surplice might be seen hanging over the side of one of the
square pews which obstructed the chancel, and when the Vicar appeared
he was followed by the clerk, who assisted at the public ceremony of
robing. Church decorations at Christmas consisted at that time of
sprigs of holly stuck upright in holes bored along the tops of the pew
partitions at regular intervals, and at the harvest thanksgiving an
historic miniature rick of corn annually made its appearance on the
altar. In those days, however, flowers, which are scarcely suitable
for a festival where the decorations should proclaim the abundance of
the matured season of growth, by corn and fruit, were not included. I
have seen too many of these, to the exclusion of corn, in modern town
churches, and even wild oats, which, though very pretty, are not
exactly typical of thanksgiving.

It is surprising how much damage may be done to valuable old woodwork
by an enthusiastic band of decorators, assisted by an indiscriminating
curate, and how inharmonious may be the general effect of individual
labours--though charming taken separately--where a comprehensive
scheme is neglected. I have counted fourteen differing reds--