It appears round here that they don't care that much. Though they are looking forward to St John's Eve. Gives all the young folk of the parish the chance to rush out into the woods together of an evening. A bit like the Beaker Fertility Folk, but without the Sexual Health lectures and prophylactics.
Anyway, while pondering how we came to be here, I thought it would be nice to have a bit of a schlep around the countryside by train. And with the length of the days, and the "new" railway system, I've been down to Abbotsbury and back with Dorcas.
While down on the Isle of Purbeck I hired a gig and went up to Enckworth and Kingscreech. We were out that way when we met Old Mrs Chundle.
I'll be honest, she was hard to talk to. And she does, as Dorcas pointed out, smell rather strongly of cider and onions. But she was so pleased that the new curate down her way has visited her a couple of times, and fitted some kind of an ear-trumpet device for her to listen to the sermons. It gives you hope for the future of the Church of England in the English countryside. What a nice man, and what a nice future for this lovely old lady to look forward to.
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