Another Saturday night (and Sunday as well) (Day 1 & 2)
Posted: Sat Apr 28, 2012 8:24 pm
Since Taavi's asked what we're up to, I thought I might start things off, since Rev. Poole is a very exciting fellow, brimming with adventure.
Having spent the day attending meetings of the London Asiatic Philatelist's League (tea and biscuits), Anglo-Belgian Friendship Society (cheese, white beer and bread), and a lecture on the natives of Sarawak by the Young Women's Christian Evangelical League by one Doctor Cornelius Schmoke (finger sandwiches, tea, and interminable conversation), Rev. Poole retires to his flat. After putting on the kettle and letting in his cat (an ancient tabby named Virgil), he commences with needed mending and darning over a cuppa and a plate of lemon biscuits procured from a recent gathering of the East London Temperance Association. He then fortifies himself with a small taste of brandy, he settles into bed (after setting out, for Virgil, a plate of gizzards received as a gift from a pious butcher a few blocks away) to read the better part of a history of the Eleusinian Mystery Religion (by Mrs. Julius G.G. Cooke, 1912, Cambridge).
Waking early the next morning (due to a chill and an overabundance of tea), after his morning necessities, he attends services at St. Paul's. Afterwards he lunches at a nearby hot sausage cart (a weekly treat), then ventures to call up three infirm parishioners of Little St. Hugh, who never quite understood that they should head elsewhere after the fire. Mrs. Drew, age 95, is deaf but happily plays the organ while Rev. Poole sings a few of her favorite hymns as best he can. Mrs. Bullard, age 86, is confined mostly to her chair, and wishes to discuss a few passages from the Acts of the Apostles (but mostly wishes to complain about her ungrateful grandchildren), and Mr. Pomfret, age 92, prays a bit, but as soon as Pomfret's nosy son departs the old man produces a deck of cards and the pair plays a few hands for matches.
The afternoon drawing late, barring any chance encounters, Rev. Poole takes a leisurely walk, favoring the City but branching out as the day takes him into greater London. Returning home at dusk, he repeats his evening activities as above, eating a dinner of cold kippers on dry toast with water, finishing the Mrs. Cooke's work, and starting on a bit of fiction.
Having spent the day attending meetings of the London Asiatic Philatelist's League (tea and biscuits), Anglo-Belgian Friendship Society (cheese, white beer and bread), and a lecture on the natives of Sarawak by the Young Women's Christian Evangelical League by one Doctor Cornelius Schmoke (finger sandwiches, tea, and interminable conversation), Rev. Poole retires to his flat. After putting on the kettle and letting in his cat (an ancient tabby named Virgil), he commences with needed mending and darning over a cuppa and a plate of lemon biscuits procured from a recent gathering of the East London Temperance Association. He then fortifies himself with a small taste of brandy, he settles into bed (after setting out, for Virgil, a plate of gizzards received as a gift from a pious butcher a few blocks away) to read the better part of a history of the Eleusinian Mystery Religion (by Mrs. Julius G.G. Cooke, 1912, Cambridge).
Waking early the next morning (due to a chill and an overabundance of tea), after his morning necessities, he attends services at St. Paul's. Afterwards he lunches at a nearby hot sausage cart (a weekly treat), then ventures to call up three infirm parishioners of Little St. Hugh, who never quite understood that they should head elsewhere after the fire. Mrs. Drew, age 95, is deaf but happily plays the organ while Rev. Poole sings a few of her favorite hymns as best he can. Mrs. Bullard, age 86, is confined mostly to her chair, and wishes to discuss a few passages from the Acts of the Apostles (but mostly wishes to complain about her ungrateful grandchildren), and Mr. Pomfret, age 92, prays a bit, but as soon as Pomfret's nosy son departs the old man produces a deck of cards and the pair plays a few hands for matches.
The afternoon drawing late, barring any chance encounters, Rev. Poole takes a leisurely walk, favoring the City but branching out as the day takes him into greater London. Returning home at dusk, he repeats his evening activities as above, eating a dinner of cold kippers on dry toast with water, finishing the Mrs. Cooke's work, and starting on a bit of fiction.