A FIGHTING PARSON.

Stratford Evening Post, Volume XXXIV, Issue 89, 10 December 1912, Page 2

A FIGHTING PARSON.

KNOCKS OUT INTERRUPTERS

EXTRAORDINARY SCENE IN CHURCH. With most parsons meekness and wildness are generally the most prominent characteristics (states a Melbourne telegram to the Sydney Sun), but the Rev. John Hosking, of Fitzroyj is a Christian capable of teaching by/the doctrine of muscle as well as by the doctrine of love. He does a good deal of work in the slum quarter of Melbourne, and has been the subject of more than ordinary attention from the larrikins of the locality. Windows have been broken in his church, crackers have been exploded m church, interruptions have taken place, and Mr Ho&king has been jeered at and insulted. The soft word failed to turn away wrath, and when, on Sunday nigiu (24th November), they interrupted him again, and whistled and made offensive remarks in response to his warning that they 'would have to go out, he quietly got down from the pulpit. He took his clerical coat off. and, walking up to the ringleader, an athletic young fellow of 19, swung his right hand on to his jaw. Down went the rowdy party’s leader, and they lost so much courage at this unexpected attack that they were easily ejected from, the building. Out on the roadway they gathered their forces, and plalnned an attack in force. But the fighting parson was eager for the fray, and he adopted offensive tactics, rushing into the midst of them, and pummelling them as though it was'a pleasant experience. The enemy was dispersed, hup they carried on” a long-range bombardment with road mytal. until the pplice arrived. 'Then qiie, man wap.Jpyked up, and the defeat jyas completed. it transpires tlpit. Mr Hoskpig expert in the use pi, the gloves, > and this fact being apparent to the rowdy element it is not likely that they will again visit the church to scoff. “Oh, yes, I can use my hands, thank goodness ” ...he ip ; published in the Herald. I was taught boxing and wrestling, and have not forgotten these gptp. But I am a man of peace. Six years ago 1 purchased three houees, each with a bad reputation, and made this mission church out of themr'F ,1 am supplied very cheaply ■ with--films, and I show pictures as’an extra .fittractidn'iat the church service. Women come bareheaded and children bare-footed to the services. They listen to the preaching, join in the singing, and enjoy the pictures hugely. I tell you this church has transformed ‘ the neighbourhood. But a number of young men—big hoodlums, I call them—have long annoyed me. In fact, I had to get an assistant to do the preaching, while, with the aid of a nice little baton a policeman gave me, I keep y the gang down to something like decent behaviour.

“This might seem a strange way to conduct a church, but what can a man do PMust the neighbourhood be deprived of these services because some twenty hoodlums choose to try to break them up? I have got to be a detective and pugilist, as well as a preacher. There are men who come into the church with their pockets stuffed full of crackers; so that 1 have got to make a search when anything looks suspicious. I cannot keep a window in the church, or even a grating on a ventilator. They arc all smashed, and I have to take special means to prevent stones from falling on the heads of the congregation. The collection last night was 3s—above the average 1 . It does not even pay for the electric light, to say nothing of the pictures or the money 1 pay in other ways. But lam determined to stay here for the good that I can do. I will let no gang of roughs shift me while I have got a leg to stand on.”