"Will you be so good as to proceed?" "Yes, and gladly, miss," he answered. "And I'll begin with the Gollops, since they've done as much for this parish as anybody, living or dead. My father was parish clerk afore me, and a very remarkable man, wasn't he, Eliza?" "He was." "A remarkable man with a large faith in the power of prayer, was father. You don't see such faith now, worse luck. But he believed more than even I hold to, or my sister, either. You might say that he wasn't right always; but none ever dared to doubt the high religious quality of the man. But there he was--a pillar of the Church and State, as they say. He used to help his money a bit by the power of prayer; and they fetched childer sick of the thrush to him; and he'd tak 'em up the church tower and hold 'em over the battlements, north, south, east, and west--while he said the Lord's Prayer four times. He'd get a shilling by it every time, and was known to do twenty of 'em in a good year, though I never heard 'twas a very quick cure. But faith moves mountains, and he may have done more good than appeared to human eyes. And then in his age, he very near let a heavy babby drop over into the churchyard--just grabbed hold of un by a miracle and saved un. So that proper terrified the old man, and he never done another for fear of some lasting misfortune. Not but what a few devilish-natured people said that if 'twas knowed he let the childer fall now and again, he'd brisk up his business a hundred per centum. Which shows the evil-mindedness of human nature." "I'll have no gross superstition of that sort here," said Mr. Masterman firmly. "No more won't I," answered Thomas. "'Other times, other manners,' as the saying is. Have no fear. The church is very safe with me and Eliza for watch-dogs. Well, so much for my father. There was only us two, and we never married--too busy for that. And we've done no little for Shaugh Prior, as will be better told you in good time by other mouths than ours." He stopped to take breath, and Miss Masterman spoke. "My brother will tell you that with regard to parish clerks the times are altering too," she said. "And don't I know it?" he answered. "Why, good powers, you can't get a clerk for love or money nowadays! They'm regular dying out. 'He'll be thankful he've got one of the good old sort,' I said to my sister. 'For he'd have had to look beyond Dartymoor for such another as me.' And so he would." "That's true," declared Miss Gollop. "I mean that the congregation takes the place of the clerk in most modern services," continued Miss Masterman. "In point of fact, we shall not want exactly what you understand by a 'clerk.' 'Other times, other manners,' as you very wisely remarked just now." Mr. Gollop stared. "Not want a clerk!" he said. "Woman alive, you must be daft!"