BUSH PARSON

Greymouth Evening Star, 14 May 1929, Page 9

BUSH PARSON

AUSTRALIAN EXPERIENCES.

1 In the first place, the ’bush parson’s life is often-far from being in clover, ’as his travels are lonesome, and more often than not difficult in the way of transport. When the wet season is on, the roads—whith are usually mere tracks —are in a terrible state, and since the man of the cloth, as a rule, c only travels in a sulky, and, more often than ’not, with a tired horse, it is •a risky undertaking for him. But, ‘however bad the weather, he faces- it 'with a stout heart, and has a genial smile for all whom he may meet (writes P. B. Prior in the Sydney Morning Herald). His circuit is scattered, since all the districts he travels through are sparsely populated, his congregations being made up of farmers and settlers, intermixed with bushmen, charcoal burners, and other men of the wilds. Services are held in quite little churches —merely huts compared with churches in town and city. The services are also irregular, and they are held usually every two or three months. On such an occasion the farmers and others in the vicinity drive as. many miles to attend the services, some of them coming as far as thirty or forty miles. Then, there is a general meeting of the “clan,” as you might say, and the day’s outing is more in the shape of a picnic than anything else, for a hamper is packed with all good things to last for the day. In the morning;, numbers of the scattered congregation have arrived at the little wayside church ready to attend morning service. All sorts of vehicles are scattered about’the grounds, and the arrivals are a motley throng. As soon as the service is over, the menfolk fill their billies with water and boil them to make tea, while the women-folk prepare the food part of the business. Gathering under the shade, the good folk partake of their midday meal in true picnic fashion. After the meal is over the men gather and discuss such affairs as the breaking of the drought, the price of cattle, sheep, and corn, and a hundred and one matters concerning farm and other bush work. While they are thus talking, a young people’s service is being held, and the parson is trying his best to make it as interesting as possible for those bush children who see so little of life as compared with the town and city youngsters. But for all that, many of these bush children are quick, eager to learn, and often put the city children in the shade in that respect, especially in most na- - ture subjects, for what a bush child does not know about birds, animals, and’ flowers, is not, as a rule, worth explaining.

EVENING SERVICE. Afternoon service over, again the billies are boiled, and another hearty outdoor meal is enjoyed. The evening service is then held, this being the best attended service of the day. Thus the day passes only too quickly. At the end of the evening service the jovial parson greets each of his congregation with a hearty handshake and a few words of encouragement concerning their farm interests, until the last of them passes out into the night. Horses are then rounded up and hitched to their respective buggies. A last farewell is said, and the travellers start for home, as the moon casts its. shadows hmong the trees. Thus, they leave the little church, with its few gravestones within the small enclosure that forms a miniature cemetery. Doubtless, these graves, contain the remains of some of the early pioneers of the district who paved the way, with many privations and hardships, for the present-day settler, until they laid down their sickles to sleep that last long sleep, having fulfilled faithfully and well. the work that their Master gave them to do. Apart from the usual routine of the bush parson’s life there is always the humorous side of it. I happen to know one of these worthy men of the cloth, and some time ago he related to me some of his amusing encounters in 'the bush with various individuals. On one occasion the pilot—as he is often called on his travels —was called upon to perform the marriage cerepiony for a cattle-station boundary rider and a bush maiden. The wedding took place in the station woolshed. From the (outset the parson was struck by the 'strange antics and gestures of the bridegroom, but the climax came when the happy man was asked “If he would take this woman to be his lawful wife.” “My oath,” said the bridegroom, and he upended himself, and stood on his head. It transpired that his mates had got hold of a prayer book, and had been “coaching” the would-be benedict beforehand, and had told him what fanciful antics must be performed when he was given different cues by the parson.

“"BLASPHEMY AND PIETY. At another bush wedding the bridegroom had put the wedding ring in his trousers’ pocket. Unfortunately there was a hole in this receptacle, and during the ceremony the ring escaped, and slid down, the man’s leg into his sock. When the psychological moment for producing the ring arrived the blushing bridegroom was forced to sit upon the floor and to remove his boot, where a large hole was revealed in his sock. “It’s about time, young man, that you did get married,” said the parson. At another time this, same parson was overtaken by night while travelling in the heart of the bush. Seeing a light, he made his way thither, and came to the hut of a charcoal-burner. He asked the proprietor if he could manage to /“hang him up” for the night. “Well, I’ll do my best,” said the sooty bushman, “but my missus is away, and I’m here with three young children.” After the bush supper, and a fireside yarn, the guest wa,s given a camp before the fire, and he overheard the father in the adjoining apartment —separated only by a newspaperplastered, hession partition—attending to tlie nightly prayers of the family. One kiddie broke down in the Lord’s Prayer, and said: “I can’t remember it, daddy. “No, you blankety, thickheaded, blankety blockhead, I know you can’t,” replied the father. The parson said that it was the most remarkable mixture of blasphemy and piety that had ever come undei’ his notice. The same cleric was once preaching in a small cocky’s chaffshed. It was a close, muggy night, and every now and then one or another of the congregation would bound from his bag of chaff seat to stamp on a scorpion, a red-backed spider, oi’ a centipede. It made the parson feel quite creepy, and he cut out the

“thirdly,” “againly,” and “once merely,” and was glad when the service' was over.

The worst experience, however, that this cleric could recall was when he was thrown out of the dwelling-tent of a married atheist kangarooer because he wanted to christen the children. After a very heated altercation blows -were exchanged, and the parson, true to liis college training in boxing, came off victorious.

“You’re the best sky-pilot I’ve ever struck,” said the vanquished fur merchant, “and you may christen the whole blankety lot of us, if you like.”

The parson “liked.” “I don’t know whether I managed to sprinkle the water in the right direction though,” he said, “for my starboard top-light was in mourning, and the other optic completely closed.”