A BISHOP TELLS STORIES.

Pukekohe & Waiuku Times, Volume 5, Issue 163, 7 April 1916, Page 4 (Supplement)

A BISHOP TELLS STORIES.

•SOME AMI'SING ANECDOTES I v \ COLONIAL DIVINE. A book has been written by Bishoi; i' rodsham, in which he tells of his experiences in the wilds of Australia. .Many of them are amusing. Here are home ot the stories: MEMORIES REVIVED. Dnvrng with a sugar-cane farmer near the coast one afternoon, the wheel of our buggy slipped over the side of a cu'vert hu.den in the long, coarse glass, and, in far less time than it takes to write it, we found' ourselves ;, ng beyond the wreckage on opposite sides of a fallen tree. for a moment spec,., failed us, but memory, which according to Locke is • ' a wm d sweeping over a field or <orn, reasserted itself in my com panion. He remarked impressively: ' I turned another bishop out" here twenty years ago." PREACHING ON A DOG EIGHT Divine service may be a little trying to those who are b'essed—or cursed—with a sense of humour. I remember taking one service in i practically mining township where the congregation consisted of more t.ogs [lian human beings. I record with red . t,ie - v peace-loving dog.T But during the consecration of a little wooden church elsewhere, a number of quarrelsome dogs had a general mMee under the flooring beneath my seat. The male population hastily left the church, and, after many obviously bad shots, dislodged with stones the combatants, who fled howling.

AND HIS L'ORDSHIP DID. The first Bishop of North Queensland used to relate how in one mining camp he received in nis hands a huge slice of water-melon—a great delicacy in the bush. Before ever tho segment of the globular fruit had touched his lips, the bishop was confronted by the same proglem, in an aggravated form, which the cherry tart presented to Mr. Tittlebat Titmouse. What was he to do with the many large black seeds?'' The official iiostess saw his dilemma, and, with a true instinct of politeness, whispered in his ear: "Spit 'em on the floor, my lord. ' DANCES ALL THE PAGE. I have come to the conclusion that dances are among the best forms 01 popular amusement in the bush. They are well managed. They are populni. 'They inculcate; so far as I could tee, habits of politeness and respect, ancj they are never-ending sources of pleasure.

They are held on far more incongr ious occasions than the yearly visit 5f a bishop to his people. Has' death laid bin hand upon the father of a family? Tho ready sympathy of the community at once issues a subscription list for the widow, and then organises a subscription dance or a nigger minstrel show. This is a common occurrence; but the most incongruous "object'' of a charitv dance I have ever known was tho fenc. ing-in of the cemetery . in a certain small township. The particular effort was a mixed dance and concert. And the vocal part ine'uoed two appropriats items: "Oh, dry those tears," and " See that my grave's kept green h