But his greatest delight of all was to hear Jack struggling with the genealogy in St. Luke. A series of chuckles issued from the corner where the old man lay ensconced, that gathered in volume with every fresh fall; and when the boy, hot and discomfited, retired from the fray, there was a pause in the proceedings till the old man had recovered himself sufficiently to resume his functions. His luncheon meanwhile had been progressing steadily, not without the gurgling sound of something comforting to facilitate digestion. It puzzled me for years to discover the _raison d’ être_ of this extraordinary meal, knowing as I did that an hour later he would be dining with one of his cottagers, after careful preliminary enquiry as to which house could offer the most attractive fare. Only quite lately, long after the idea of luncheon had been stereotyped upon my brain, I found out that the so-called luncheon was, after all, no luncheon at all, but only a retarded breakfast. Our Rector being a late riser, and having a five-mile walk before him, could find no opportunity of taking it in comfort till he had reached the haven of the parish reading desk. A cigar was the indispensable accompaniment of the second Lesson, during which period its fumes could be seen ascending like “curling incense” to the blackened rafters of the roof. Indeed, the only thing that ever really shattered my father’s equanimity was the sight of its reeking end, projected over his head from the sill of the reading desk, where the Rector had reluctantly placed it while he applied himself to the requirements of the “Benedictus.” When the flageolet sounded the key note of the first hymn, the Rector regarded it as the signal of a temporary relaxation. He was for a time off duty, and the cigar was again in requisition. But in fine and balmy weather, he found the atmosphere of the church too close for its enjoyment. It “gathered sweetness from the open air.” So, attired in surplice, stole and bands, our Rector strolled out into the churchyard—giving us pleasant little vista-views of his enjoyment as he passed and re-passed the windows of the aisles. That it might be enjoyed in perfection and unto the end, the hymns selected were inordinately long. But, if fate was against him, and the wind light, and the cigar drew slowly, he had no false shame in appearing on the chancel steps to announce with all the dignity of a formal notice that the last two verses of the hymn would be repeated. After which he disappeared into the churchyard again.