“This preaching forfcy : five minutes,” said a rector, at dinner one Sunday to his curate, “ will never do. Here’s a fine goose roasted to a rag, and not a drop of gravy in it, ”
A pompous clergyman once said to a chubby faced lad, who was passing him without raising his hat, “Do you know who I am, sir, that you pass me in this unmannerly way ? You are better fed than taught, I think.” “Wal, maybe it be soa, said the boy, “fur you teaches me, an’ T feeds myself.”
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/ESD18700824.2.17.2
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Evening Star, Volume VIII, Issue 2277, 24 August 1870, Page 2
Word count
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91Page 2 Advertisements Column 2 Evening Star, Volume VIII, Issue 2277, 24 August 1870, Page 2
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