Some Tame Gazelle (Open Road)

by Barbara Pym

Mr. Donne looked so interested that he must have found it quite a strain.

Agatha was reminded of Piers Plowman, Belinda of the poetry of Crabbe, which she could not remember very exactly, but she felt she had to be reminded of something out of self-defence, for Agatha had got a First and knew all about Piers Plowman.

Belinda thought that as the Archdeacon was going to preach, he was perhaps doing too much of the service himself, and what with the curious intoning and the curate’s church voice, which was like nothing so much as a bleating sheep’s, it was difficult for Belinda to keep from smiling. And even she was forced to admit to herself that they were getting a little too much for their money, when she realized that they were going to have the Litany.

Everyone knelt down rather angrily. They had had the Litany last Sunday and the Archdeacon never made any attempt to shorten it. As he could not sing, he made up for it by making his voice heard as much as possible in other ways.

By the time the Archdeacon had ascended the pulpit steps, Belinda had forgotten all about the special sermon, and settled herself comfortably in her pew, as did the rest of the congregation, having just sung with great vigour that the world was very evil.