A good story is told of the late George Augustus Sala in his early and impecunious days. At some festive gathering where Mr. Sala was present, Mr. Attemborough, the famous pawnbroker, was also a guest. They recognized each other, and shook hands.
“How do you do, Mr. Attemborough,” said the journalist. “We have met often before, but I think this is the first time I have ever seen your legs.”
A clergyman in the West Country had two curates, one a comparatively old man, the other very young. With the former he had not been able to work agreeably; and on being invited to another living, he accepted it, and took the young curate with him. Naturally, there was a farewell sermon; and we can imagine the feelings of the curate who was to be left behind when he heard the text given out, “Abide ye here with the ass, and I and the lad will go yonder and worship.”
A bishop was staying with a friend in a country house. On Sunday morning as he passed through the library he found a small boy curled up in a big chair, deeply interested in a book.
“Are you going to church, Tom?” he asked.
“No, sir,” he replied.
“Why, I am,” said the Bishop.