St. James the Least My dear Nephew Darren I have to say that the couple who complained that you never noticed they had been missing from church for a month had a point. There is a simple way of noticing when someone is absent: everyone sits in the same pew. Every Sunday. Always. Little Miss Margison sits in the pew after the third pillar on the right here at St. James the Least. As she walks up the aisle, you can sense her counting the pillars until she reaches the right one, which then allows her to sit in front of it. I have speculated that if I ever had that pillar removed, then the following Sunday, she would have a complete mental collapse. One Sunday a visiting family arrived early and sat down; three people in an empty church seating 200. Colonel Wainwright and his wife were the first of our regulars to arrive and froze in horror. The Colonel said in a deafening whisper to his wife: someone sitting in our “There’s pew.” At least they had the grace no matter how reluctant for one week, to sit – – somewhere else. Unlike the Prentice family of husband, wife and three children, who arrived to discover that a visiting family of husband, wife and four children were sitting in their pew; six people in a pew that held eight. Or, it normally holds eight. That Sunday, it held thirteen. We at least have one iconoclast in Miss Pemberton, who makes a point of sitting in a different place every week. This thoroughly unsettles the rest of the congregation, who fear she may sit in their seats during her nomadic wanderings. I sometimes wonder if she has a chart at home with all the pew spaces marked on it and she strikes one off each week as she returns home after Mattins. Occasionally the unexpected can happen. Mrs Cholmondeley arrived one week in good time, settled herself in her accustomed place, but half-way through the Service suddenly ran out of the building. Ten minutes later, she was back and in her usual place once again. It was only when the church filled with the smell of burned bacon that we understood. That is why replacing pews with chairs in your church was a mistake. Pews can never be moved. You know where everybody is or should be! – Your loving uncle, Eustace
St. James the Least My dear Nephew Darren I have to say that the couple who complained that you never noticed they had been missing from church for a month had a point. There is a simple way of noticing when someone is absent: everyone sits in the same pew. Every Sunday. Always. Little Miss Margison sits in the pew after the third pillar on the right here at St. James the Least. As she walks up the aisle, you can sense her counting the pillars until she reaches the right one, which then allows her to sit in front of it. I have speculated that if I ever had that pillar removed, then the following Sunday, she would have a complete mental collapse. One Sunday a visiting family arrived early and sat down; three people in an empty church seating 200. Colonel Wainwright and his wife were the first of our regulars to arrive and froze in horror. The Colonel said in a deafening whisper to his wife: “There’s someone sitting in our pew.” At least they had the grace – no matter how reluctant – for one week, to sit somewhere else. Unlike the Prentice family of husband, wife and three children, who arrived to discover that a visiting family of husband, wife and four children were sitting in their pew; six people in a pew that held eight. Or, it normally holds eight. That Sunday, it held thirteen. We at least have one iconoclast in Miss Pemberton, who makes a point of sitting in a different place every week. This thoroughly unsettles the rest of the congregation, who fear she may sit in their seats during her nomadic wanderings. I sometimes wonder if she has a chart at home with all the pew spaces marked on it and she strikes one off each week as she returns home after Mattins. Occasionally the unexpected can happen. Mrs Cholmondeley arrived one week in good time, settled herself in her accustomed place, but half-way through the Service suddenly ran out of the building. Ten minutes later, she was back and in her usual place once again. It was only when the church filled with the smell of burned bacon that we understood. That is why replacing pews with chairs in your church was a mistake. Pews can never be moved. You know where everybody is – or should be! Your loving uncle, Eustace