CHAPTER EIGHT 



PIGEONS OF THE 



CHURCH 



I N that western corner of Gloucestershire which 

 lies between the converging streams of Severn 

 and Wye, and was formerly included in the now 

 shrunken limits of the Forest of Dean, there 

 stands, overlooking the larger of the two riv- 

 ers, the church of Tidenham, its massive tower 

 a bold landmark visible from far down-stream. 

 The story is told that the Gloucester harbour 

 commissioners once approached the vicar and 

 churchwardens with the following naive pro- 

 posal. The tower, they said, was a good guide 

 to mariners upon their way to port; but its 

 utility in this respect would be enormously 

 increased by a periodical coat of whitewash. 

 Might they apply such dressing, and continue 

 so to do from time to time? 



The guardians of the church no doubt re- 

 ceived the suggestion with something of the 

 indignation shown by the High Church vicar 

 who, in the pages of Punch, interrupts a pair 

 of tourists who have lost their way and are en- 

 deavouring to locate their whereabouts by the 



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