The Gift of the Sailor: The String of Pearls & Sweeney Todd, the Demon Barber of Fleet Street — page 74: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

looked very splendid and showy upon the occasion. Moreover, that beadle had been well and judiciously selected, and the parish authorities made no secret of it, when there was an election for beadle, that they threw all their influence into the scale of that candidate who happened to be the biggest, and, consequently, who was calculated to wear the official costume with an air that no smaller man could have possibly aspired to on any account. At half-past eleven o’clock the bishop made his gracious appearance, and was duly ushered into the vestry, where there was a comfortable fire, and on the table in which, likewise, were certain cold chickens and bottles of rare wines; for confirming a number of people, and preaching a sermon besides, was considered no joke, and might, for all they knew, be provocative of a great appetite in the bishop. And with what a bland and courtly air the bishop smiled as he ascended the steps of St. Dunstan’s Church. How affable he was to the churchwardens, and he actually smiled upon a poor miserable charity boy, who, his eyes glaring wide open, and his muffin cap® in his hand, was taking his first stare at a real live bishop. To be sure, the beadle knocked him down directly the bishop had passed, for having the presumption to look at such a great personage, but then that was to be expected fully and completely, and only proved that the proverb, which permits a cat to look at a king, is not equally applicable to charity boys and bishops. When the bishop got to the vestry, some very complimentary words were uttered to him by the usual officiating clergyman, but, somehow or other, the bland smile had left the lips of the great personage, and, interrupting the vicar in the midst of a fine flowing speech, he said— “That’s all very well, but what a terrible stink there is here!” The churchwardens gave a groan, for they had flattered themselves that perhaps the bishop would not notice the dreadful smell, or that, if he did, he would think it was accidental, and say nothing about it; but now, when he really did mention it, they found all their hopes scattered to the winds, and that it was necessary to say something. “Ts this horrid charnel-house sort of smell always here?” “T am afraid it is,” said one of the churchwardens. “Afraid!” said the bishop, “surely you know; you seem to me to have a nose.” “Yes,” said the churchwarden, in great confusion, “I have that honour, and I have the pleasure of informing you, my Lord Bishop—I mean I have the honour of informing you that this smell is always here.” The bishop sniffed several times, and then he said— “Tt is very dreadful; and I hope that by the next time I come to St. Dunstan’s, you will have the pleasure and the honour, both, of informing me that it has gone away.” The churchwarden bowed, and got into an extreme corner, saying to himself— “This is the bishop’s last visit here, and I don’t wonder at it, for, as if out of pure spite, the smell is ten times worse than ever to- day.” And so it was, for it seemed to come up through all the crevices of the flooring of the church, with a power and perseverance that was positively dreadful. The people coughed, and held their handkerchiefs to their noses, remarking to each other— “Tsn’t it dreadful?—did you ever know the smell in St. Dunstan’s so bad before,” and everybody agreed that they never had known it anything like so bad, for that it was positively awful—and so indeed it was. The anxiety of the bishop to get away was quite manifest, and, if he could have decently taken his departure without confirming anybody at all, there is no doubt but that he would have willingly done so, and left all the congregation to die and be—something or another. But this he could not do, but he could cut it short, and he did so. The people found themselves confirmed before they almost knew where they were, and the bishop would not go into the vestry again on any account, but hurried down the steps of the church, and into his carriage, with the greatest precipitation in the world, thus proving that holiness is no proof against a most abominable stench. As may be well supposed, after this, the subject assumed a much more serious aspect, and on the following day a solemn meeting was held of all the church authorities, at which it was determined that men should be employed to make a thorough and searching examination of the vaults of St. Dunstan’s, with the view of discovering, if possible, from whence particularly the abominable stench emanated. And then it was decided that the stench was to be put down, and that the bishop was to be apprised it was put down, and that he might visit the church in perfect safety. Q909O0GOOO CORniclooo S CO)