1902
Miss Mary Louise Boyle, who counted Dickens, Lever, Browning, Lowell and Tennyson among her friends, records in her "Book" a story about a sporting parson she knew, the Rev. Loraine Smith, who hunted in purple instead of pink because the former was the correct episcopal color:
"His reverence was always well mounted and was a keen sportsman. He had a pretty living and a good church in the neighborhood, but he surprised his parishioners very much by altering the whole disposition of the tombstones. He thought they looked awkward and untidy in their actual position, so he had them all taken up and rearranged according to his fancy in lines, crosses, squares, etc. One Sunday morning, a very cold winter's day, he had performed the service to a scanty congregation, and on going up into his pulpit, instead of opening his sermon book, he pronounced the following address: 'My dear friends, you require it I will preach you the sermon which I have brought with me, but if you are as cold and hungry as I am I think you will prefer going with me to the rectory, where you will find some cold beef and some good ale.'"
Showing posts with label tombstones. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tombstones. Show all posts
Monday, March 10, 2008
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Huz and Buz
1900
In one of the hill towns of Connecticut Parson Fuller, an eccentric minister of a century ago, is still a living tradition. He was rather austere in voice and manner, and quite imperious enough to suit his sacred profession at a time when a New England minister was expected to be the autocrat of his parish.
A larger church edifice had lately been built, and it happened that the first children to be "presented" in the new meeting-house were the twin baby boys of Mr. and Mrs. Timothy Green. The happy couple felt the distinction of standing at the head of the record, and made every fond preparation.
Mrs. Green, while not exactly a literary woman, conceived herself a little superior to her neighbors on account of the number of books she had read. She had made up her mind what her little boys should be called, and at the appointed time she and her husband and the twins appeared before the minister, ready for the public ceremony.
"What are their names?" asked Parson Fuller, looking at the two infants.
Mrs. Green had carefully conned her lesson, but now she wished she had written it down. The eyes of the congregation were upon her. She was so overawed that she pronounced the names in a half whisper.
"Augustus Gerard Green and Gustavus Gerald Green."
"Speak louder, madam," said the minister.
A glance at her bashful husband convinced the flustered woman that any vocal attempt on his part would be less articulate than her own. Making a brave effort, therefore, she repeated the names.
"Augustus Gerard Green and Gustavus Gerald Green."
"Nonsense, good woman!" said the stern old man, loud enough to be heard by the whole congregation. "These helpless little creatures must not begin life with such a burden. I will christen them out of the Bible, after the two nephews of Abraham."
And christen them he did, with the names of Nahor's sons, "Huz his first-born, and Buz his brother."
The mortified young parents, after a season of secret rebellion, submitted to the inevitable, realizing that, as the matter stood, "Huz" and "Buz" would stick to the boys beyond recall. Indeed, it is asserted that the queer names became such a "drawing card" for the Green family that not only curious visitors rode long distances to see the twins, but a leading citizen of the next town hired Timothy to run his grist-mill, and his wife to keep school in the mill-chamber. Huz and Buz would attract customers to the combination, he said.
And so it proved. The prosperity and popularity of the father and mother increased apace, we are told, and the twin boys grew to be respected and useful men. One survived the other to old age, but the single stone — now crumbled away — that marked both their graves in the country burial-ground bore, besides the dates, only the simple inscription: "Huz Green, and Buz his brother." — Youth's Companion.
In one of the hill towns of Connecticut Parson Fuller, an eccentric minister of a century ago, is still a living tradition. He was rather austere in voice and manner, and quite imperious enough to suit his sacred profession at a time when a New England minister was expected to be the autocrat of his parish.
A larger church edifice had lately been built, and it happened that the first children to be "presented" in the new meeting-house were the twin baby boys of Mr. and Mrs. Timothy Green. The happy couple felt the distinction of standing at the head of the record, and made every fond preparation.
Mrs. Green, while not exactly a literary woman, conceived herself a little superior to her neighbors on account of the number of books she had read. She had made up her mind what her little boys should be called, and at the appointed time she and her husband and the twins appeared before the minister, ready for the public ceremony.
"What are their names?" asked Parson Fuller, looking at the two infants.
Mrs. Green had carefully conned her lesson, but now she wished she had written it down. The eyes of the congregation were upon her. She was so overawed that she pronounced the names in a half whisper.
"Augustus Gerard Green and Gustavus Gerald Green."
"Speak louder, madam," said the minister.
A glance at her bashful husband convinced the flustered woman that any vocal attempt on his part would be less articulate than her own. Making a brave effort, therefore, she repeated the names.
"Augustus Gerard Green and Gustavus Gerald Green."
"Nonsense, good woman!" said the stern old man, loud enough to be heard by the whole congregation. "These helpless little creatures must not begin life with such a burden. I will christen them out of the Bible, after the two nephews of Abraham."
And christen them he did, with the names of Nahor's sons, "Huz his first-born, and Buz his brother."
The mortified young parents, after a season of secret rebellion, submitted to the inevitable, realizing that, as the matter stood, "Huz" and "Buz" would stick to the boys beyond recall. Indeed, it is asserted that the queer names became such a "drawing card" for the Green family that not only curious visitors rode long distances to see the twins, but a leading citizen of the next town hired Timothy to run his grist-mill, and his wife to keep school in the mill-chamber. Huz and Buz would attract customers to the combination, he said.
And so it proved. The prosperity and popularity of the father and mother increased apace, we are told, and the twin boys grew to be respected and useful men. One survived the other to old age, but the single stone — now crumbled away — that marked both their graves in the country burial-ground bore, besides the dates, only the simple inscription: "Huz Green, and Buz his brother." — Youth's Companion.
Sunday, May 6, 2007
Not Many Reverends Buried in Our Cemetery
Warren, Pennsylvania, 1877
— Rev E. F. Crane, will preach in the Baptist Church, Sunday afternoon and evening next, at the usual hours. He is from Little Falls, N. Y., and the understanding is that he will be secured permanently.
— It is related of a clergyman who received a call to a pulpit at Warren, R. I., that in investigating the question whether previous pastors had been kept for many years, he went into a graveyard and finding that no clergyman were buried there, declined the call.
— We doubt if "Rev." is engraved on many tomb stones in our cemetery. The pulpits of Warren, Pa., have been occupied by men of the best ability in the country, but we have kept them so well that they have always found it necessary to leave here to die.
— Titusville is convulsed with a temperance revival. Temperance is the absorbing subject among all classes.
— Over five hundred persons in Tidioute have signed the temperance pledge.
— The temperance revival widens and deepens every day. It is generally understood that "wine is a mocker and strong drink is" ten cents.
— Francis Murphy, the temperance apostle has a hard job on hand. He goes to Harrisburg soon, thinking to reform that town with a Republican legislature in session.
— "If you have sixty-six winters on your head, you have also sixty-six summers in your heart." The above remark, made by an elderly gentleman, the other day, has enough poetry in it to make it worthy of record.
— There were nine persons added to the Presbyterian Church last Sunday on profession of their faith in Christ. The church now numbers about 280 members. If each individual of this large number should, during the coming year, bring one other person to Christ; and should those thus brought influence others in the same way, how soon would the scripture, "and all shall know Him from the least unto the greatest," be fulfilled in this town. The Sunday School counted, on the last Sabbath, 265, visitors not included. There are six adult Bible classes containing in the aggregate about seventy persons.
—Warren Ledger, Warren, PA, March 22, 1877, p. 3.
— Rev E. F. Crane, will preach in the Baptist Church, Sunday afternoon and evening next, at the usual hours. He is from Little Falls, N. Y., and the understanding is that he will be secured permanently.
— It is related of a clergyman who received a call to a pulpit at Warren, R. I., that in investigating the question whether previous pastors had been kept for many years, he went into a graveyard and finding that no clergyman were buried there, declined the call.
— We doubt if "Rev." is engraved on many tomb stones in our cemetery. The pulpits of Warren, Pa., have been occupied by men of the best ability in the country, but we have kept them so well that they have always found it necessary to leave here to die.
— Titusville is convulsed with a temperance revival. Temperance is the absorbing subject among all classes.
— Over five hundred persons in Tidioute have signed the temperance pledge.
— The temperance revival widens and deepens every day. It is generally understood that "wine is a mocker and strong drink is" ten cents.
— Francis Murphy, the temperance apostle has a hard job on hand. He goes to Harrisburg soon, thinking to reform that town with a Republican legislature in session.
— "If you have sixty-six winters on your head, you have also sixty-six summers in your heart." The above remark, made by an elderly gentleman, the other day, has enough poetry in it to make it worthy of record.
— There were nine persons added to the Presbyterian Church last Sunday on profession of their faith in Christ. The church now numbers about 280 members. If each individual of this large number should, during the coming year, bring one other person to Christ; and should those thus brought influence others in the same way, how soon would the scripture, "and all shall know Him from the least unto the greatest," be fulfilled in this town. The Sunday School counted, on the last Sabbath, 265, visitors not included. There are six adult Bible classes containing in the aggregate about seventy persons.
—Warren Ledger, Warren, PA, March 22, 1877, p. 3.
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