[He breaks off abruptly, finding that the chops are
reverberating from column to column with
disproportionate solemnity; a white-haired and
apple-faced verger rustles down from the choir
and beckons the party forward benignantly,
whereupon they advance with a secret satisfaction
at the prospect of "getting the cathedral
'done' and having the rest of the day to themselves;"
they are conducted to a desk and
requested, as a preliminary, to put sixpence
apiece in the Restoration Fund box and inscribe
their names in a book.
Confused Murmurs. Would you put "Portico Lodge, Camden Road, or only London?"... Here, I'd better sign for the lot of you, eh?... They might provide a better pen—in a cathedral, I do think!... He might have given all our names in full instead of just "And party!"... Oh, I've been and made a blot—will it matter, should you think?... I never can write my name with people looking on, can you?... I'm sure you've done it beautifully, dear!... Just hold my umbrella while I take off my glove, Maria.... Oh, why don't they make haste? &c., &c.
[The Stodgy Sightseer fumes, feeling that, while they are fiddling, his chops are burning.
The Verger. Now, ladies and gentlemen, if you will please to follow me, the portion of the building where we now are is part of the original hedifice founded by Ealfrytha, wife of Earl Baldric, in the year height 'undred heighty-height, though we 'ave reason to believe that an even hearlier church was in existence 'ere so far back as the Roman occupation, as is proved by a hancient stone receptacle recently discovered under the crypt and hevidently used for baptismal purposes.
A Spectacled S. (who feels it due to herself to put an intelligent question at intervals.) What was the method of baptism among the Early Christians?
The Verger. We believe it to 'ave been by total immersion, Ma'am.
The Spect. S. Oh? Baptists!
[She sets down the Early Christians as Dissenters, and takes no further interest in them.
The Verger. At the back of the choir, and immediately in front of you, is the shrine, formerly containing the bones of St. Chasuble, with relics of St. Alb. (An Evangelical Sightseer snorts in disapproval.) The 'ollow depressions in the steps leading up to the shrine, which are still visible, were worn away, as you see, by the pilgrims ascending on their knees. (The party verify the depressions conscientiously, and click their tongues to express indulgent contempt.) The spaces between the harches of the shrine were originally enriched by valuable gems and mosaics, all of which 'ave now long since disappeared, 'aving been removed by the more devout parties who came 'ere on pilgrimages. In the chapel to your left a monument with recumbent heffigies of Bishop Buttress and Dean Gurgoyle, represented laying side by side with clasped 'ands, in token of the lifelong affection between them. The late Bishop used to make a rather facetious remark about this tomb. He was in the 'abit of observing that it was the honly instance in his experience of a Bishop being on friendly terms with his Dean. (He glances round for appreciation of this instance of episcopal humour, but is pained to find that it has produced a general gloom; the Evangelical Sightseer, indeed, conveys by another and a louder snort, his sense that a Bishop ought to set a better example.) In the harched recess to your right, a monument in painted halibarster to Sir Ralph Ringdove and his lady, erected immediately after her decease by the disconsolate widower, with a touching inscription in Latin, stating that their ashes would shortly be commingled in the tomb. (He pauses, to allow the ladies of the party to express a becoming sympathy—which they do, by clicks.) Sir Ralph himself, however, is interred in Ficklebury Parish Church, forty mile from this spot, along with his third wife, who survived him.