"You aint seen the Standard, sir?" The Mayor, of course, meant the East Denshire Standard, not the London paper of the same name.
"No."
"Well, last week they printed the Vicar's sermon on 'The Work of Christianity in the World.' A fine sermon it was, sir. I heard it, being a Church of England man. Mrs. Hedger goes to Chapel."
"'Customers differ too,'" thought Philip, smiling.
"Well, as I was sayin', Jones of the Standard got the Vicar to give it 'im, and it came out, with a leadin' article of Jones' crackin' it up."
"But how does the Doctor——"
"This week, sir," continued the Mayor, shaking an impressive forefinger, "in the Chronicle—that's the Liberal paper, sir—there's a letter from the Doctor—two columns—just abusin' the Church and the parsons, and the 'ole—whole thing, fit to—well, I never did!"
"Hum! Rather rash, isn't it?"
"Rash, Mr. Hume, sir? It's madness, that's what it is, sir. He talks about 'pestilent priests,' and I don't know what all, sir, and ends with quotin' thirty or forty lines from a poem called, I think, 'The Arch Apostates'—would that be it, sir?—by Mr. Bannister."