The Argosy — page 328: what you’re looking at

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

Hap and Mishap. | 307 We hear of striking originality from the pulpit sometimes. A young Nonconformist was on probation at a little Bethel. His sub- ject was the “ Prodigal Son.” His auditory, select and severe, were unmoved by his eloquence for half-an-hour. He would now touch them with his finer fancies; he would appeal to their tenderest feelings. ‘‘ My dear friends! (with a sigh) the fatted calf! Notice! not one of Pharaoh’s lean and ill-favoured kine; not one of five yoke of oxen—great ugly beasts; but a sweetly pretty, gentle, amiable fatted calf. No doubt (added the speaker with deepening pathos) it had been the children’s dear little pet for years.” My first incumbent, Mr. Hughes, was very absent-minded. A well-known member of the congregation had enlivened dull Decem- ber by bringing home his bride: and the ladies were on the tiptoe of expectation on the following Sunday to see what she was like. An involuntary smile was caused by the text—‘‘ Behold the bridegroom cometh.” By no means diffident was the young lady who extracted a promise from her vicar that he would preach an appropriate sermon when she appeared at church on the Sunday following her marriage. The text was somewhat a surprise :—‘‘ Yea, and abundance of peace so long as the moon endureth.” Speaking of marriages, how amusing is the following incident. The incumbent of a populous parish in the Midlands who never failed to have publication of numerous banns, looked for the banns book as usual after the second lesson. Feeling assured of finding it he commenced : ‘‘ I publish the banns of marriage ———” An awkward pause, during which he looked beneath the service books, ‘‘ but could not see my little friend, because he was not there.” ‘‘I publish the banns,” repeated he, still fumbling, ‘‘ between—between——-” ‘“Be- tween the cushion and the seat, sir,” shouted the clerk, looking up and pointing to the place where the book had been mislaid. Doctor Johnson said that only once was he on the horns of a dilemma. He had hold of an infuriated bull by the tail, and was painfully undecided whether to let go or not. Surely there is no more trying circumstance than to be beset by a wasp when reading the service. There is something highly attractive to that nettlesome insect in the folds of a surplice. Perhaps it thinks of the papyrus of its own nest ; or the sedative of ordinary reading is a reminder of its big cousin, the humble bee, in a churn; or probably it instinctively knows that the reader is at its mercy. When I see a wasp flying about a church, I feel as certain as when in a train I see a mother with an infant in arms pass and re-pass the carriage window, that I am to be the victim. I fairly have the creeps when I think of those little yellow coated twins, Uz and Buz, his brother, dodging about the reading desk last August, and mocking my misery and impotency, They came with the Psalms. The lectern was a few feet distant. I hoped to give them the slip when reading the lessons, and I saw with cConnicloooks (C(O)