Snowdrops from a Curate’s Garden

nothing about that unfortunate little contretemps of the Countess : and I hope to see you again some time, and I will go on with the story of my life. Au revoir, then, and farewell ! The Lord bless you, and keep you : the Lord lift up the light of his counte- nance upon you and give you peace : both now and for evermore, Amen ! He made the sign of the Cross, spat in my left eye, and spunked in my right ; then ushered me to the door with courtly politeness. At the gate he impressed a loving kiss upon my arsehole, and gave a final but business-like frig to my weary yard. I passed out : the great Churchman was but a memory in my life. [77]