CLERK AND THE LAST RAVENS 



-35 



For nic, a stran^a-r ami liater of gabblers, his presence 

 had made the service endurable and I was glad to make 

 his acquaintance. It was easily made on a week day: 

 dressed in his frayed and discoloured old clothes that 

 hung like sacks about him and rusty shapeless hat, he 

 was the most familiar figure in the village, in appearance 

 an animated scarecrow. He was also the busiest man 

 there. He kept fowls and grew fruit and vegetables in 

 his cottage garden and an allotment a little distance 

 away. Twice a week, on market day, he loaded his 

 little cart with his produce and went off to sell it at 

 the neighbouring town. His spare time was filled up 

 with odd jobs — hedge-trimming, lawn-mowing, garden- 

 ing generally, repairing thatched roofs, and forty things 

 besides. I never found him sitting down, nor could 

 get him to sit down for more than five minutes at a 

 stretch ; but he would rest on his spade sometimes and 

 give me scraps of his ancient history. Yet he was a 

 small weak-looking man, aged 74! He had been parish 

 clerk over forty-five years, and his father before him 

 had held the office for upwards of fifty. 



I was reminded of his case afterwards on two occa- 

 sions in Hampshire churchyards by epitaphs on parish 

 clerks. One was at Heckfield, near Eversley. The in- 

 scription reads: — 



"Beneath this stone lies William Neave, who on the 

 lOth January, 182 1, ended a blameless and inoffensive 

 life of 79 years during 45 of which he was Clerk of 

 the Parish. His father, Thomas Neave, and his grand- 

 father, William Neave, had previously filled this office^ 



