CLERGY
Some time ago a dinner was given in New York at which a well-known actor, who is something of a freethinker along theological lines, sat at the guest-table. When the hour for starting the feast arrived the toastmaster, a very religious man, discovered that no minister of the Gospel was present, tho several had been invited. In this emergency he turned to the actor and asked him to say grace.
The actor rose, bowed his head, and in the midst of a deep hush said fervently:
"There being no clergyman present, let us thank God!"
Horse-power Misrated
The new minister drove his two-horse rig up to the mountain ranch of one of his congregation. There had been some difference of opinion as to his qualifications. At the gate he was met by a small boy of the family, who was evidently cogitating a matter of deep perplexity.
"Be you our preacher?"
"I am."
The boy eyed first the preacher and then the horses, his brow puckered with growing perplexity.
"That's queer," he drawled. "I hern Dad tell the neighbors you was a one-hoss preacher."
Ting-a-ling-a-ling!
The Rev. George C. Abbitt took down the receiver and placed it to his ear.
"Is that the Dickel Liquor Company?" a woman asked.
Mr. Abbitt recognized the voice as that of one of his parishioners.
"No," he replied in stern reproof; "it is your rector."
Was there a dull thud?
No.
"Indeed," said the lady, quick as a flash, "and pray what are you doing there?"
TEARFUL PARISHIONER (saying farewell to departing minister)—"I don't know what we will do when you are gone, Dr. Blank."
MINISTER—"Oh, the church will soon get a better man than I am."
TEARFUL PARISHIONER—"That's what they all say, but they keep getting worse and worse."
A clergyman was accustomed to use scientific terms which the people did not understand. A deputation waited on him with the request that in the future, whenever he used such terms, he would explain them.
On the following Sunday he used the word "hyperbole," and added:
"As agreed on, I beg to explain this word. Were I to say that at this moment the whole of my congregation are sound asleep, it would be hyperbole; but if I say that one-half are asleep, that is not hyperbole, but the truth."
The next day the deputation again called to say that the minister need not explain technical terms; they'd learn their meaning from a dictionary.
A minister came to the Episcopal church, at Williamsport, Pa., to speak.
"Do you wish to wear a surplice?" asked the rector.
"Surplice!" cried the visitor. "Surplice! I am a Methodist. What do I know about surplices? All I know about is a deficit!"
The Scotch minister rose and cleared his throat, but remained silent, while the congregation awaited the sermon in puzzled expectancy. At last he spoke:
"There's a laddie awa' there in the gallery a-kissin' a lassie," he said. "When he's done ah'll begin."
A clergyman famous for his begging abilities was once catechizing a Sunday-school. When comparing himself as pastor of the church to a shepherd, and his congregation to the sheep, he put the following question to the children: "What does the shepherd do for the sheep?"
To the confusion of the minister a small boy in the front row piped out: "Shears them!"
A small town boasts a female preacher. One day when working in her study she heard a timid knock at her door. Answering the summons she found a bashful young German on the step.
"Good-afternoon," the preacheress remarked. "What do you wish?"
"Do der minister lif in dis house?"
"Yes, sir."
"Yess? Veil, I vant to kit merriet."
"All right; I can marry you."
The lady's hair is beginning to silver and the German glanced at it. Then without comment he jammed his hat on his head and hurried down the walk.
"Will you be back?" she called.
"You gits no chance mit me," he answered. "I don't want you; I haf got me a girl alreaty."
A clergyman was spending the afternoon at a house in the English village where he had preached. After tea he was sitting in the garden with his hostess. Out rushed her little boy holding a rat above his head. "Don't be afraid, mother," he cried; "he's dead. We beat him and bashed him and thumped him until"—catching sight of the clergyman, he added, in a lowered voice—"until God called him home."
Two Irish women in the market place of Cork were talking of the new curate.
"Arrah, Biddy," said one, "did ye hear him last Sunday when he preached on 'Hell'?"
"Faith an' I did that same, and shure he might have been born and reared there, so well did he know all about it."
An Episcopal rector and a Roman Catholic priest had neighboring churches and didn't get along very well. After some time, however, they got together and decided to bury the hatchet.
"For, after all," said he of the Episcopal faith, "we are both doing the Lord's work."
"That is true," said the priest. "Let us therefore do his work to the best of our ability: you in your way," concluded the priest, and then added with a twinkle, "and I in his!"
See also Contribution box; Preaching.