The Rev, Wyer Honey, M.H. 149 



the work fell on Mr. Honey, who did not complain, as the vicar 

 had always taken his full share, and sometimes more than his 

 share while he was able to do so. But the work was no joke for 

 the curate single-handed, as there were two churches, three 

 miles apart, and there were always four services on Sunday. 



While still a curate, he was taking the three o'clock service 

 in St. John's Church, Modbury, one Sunday, when in walked 

 two extremely drunken men and sat down, one at each end of 

 a bench. As they were quiet, he proceeded with the service 

 until the second lesson was reached, when one of the men sud- 

 denly stood up, letting the one at the other end of the bench 

 down rather heavily on to the floor. Loud argument broke out 

 between them, followed by blows and tumult. At that time 

 Mr. Honey weighed nine stone seven pounds, which is a lovely 

 hunting weight, but of little use when it comes to over-awing 

 drunken coal-heavers. He bore down on them, nevertheless, 

 and bade them begone. The combatants merely turned from 

 their wrath for one short moment to see who it was that in- 

 terrupted them, and then returned to their battle. This was a 

 bad start, but the curate assumed his fiercest expression and 

 addressed them again. " Now," he said, " I give you both half 

 a minute to get out, and if you don't go then / shall put you out ! " 

 To his surprise and joy they picked up their caps and went. 

 Some days later he rode past them sitting at the side of the road, 

 and one of them called out to him, " Passon Honey, we be 

 coming to your church again soon." But they did not carry out 

 their threat. 



Mr. Honey got on well with Gypsies, and understood their 

 ways. They often camped in the neighbourhood, perhaps 

 because his horse-buying qualities endeared him to their hearts. 

 One awful night of wind and rain his friend, the parish doctor, 

 was awakened by a Gypsy who said his wife was " terrible bad." 

 " All right, I will come and see her," said the doctor, resigning 

 himself to the prospect of a midnight ramble in the rain. 

 " You need not do that," was the unexpected reply ; "I have 

 brought her along in a cart for you." And sure enough, there 

 she was laid on straw in a little cart. I tell this story to please 

 country practitioners, who will instantly recognise this practice 

 as a valuable one v>'hich wdll make their lives much happier if it 

 becomes more widely adopted. 



