At Kenwyn two dogs, one of which belonged to the parson, were fighting
at the west end of the church; the parson, who was then reading the
second lesson, rushed out of the pew and went down and parted them.
Returning to his pew, and doubtful where he had left off, he asked the
clerk, "Roger, where was I?" "Why, down parting the dogs, maister,"
replied Roger.

Two rocks stand out on the South Devon coast near Dawlish, which are
known as the Parson and Clerk. A wild, weird legend is told about these
rocks--of a parson who desired the See of Exeter, and often rode with
his clerk to Dawlish to hear the latest news of the bishop who was nigh
unto death. The wanderers lost their way one dark night, and the parson
exhibited most unclerical anger, telling his clerk that he would rather
have the devil for a guide than him. Of course, the devil or one of his
imps obliged, and conducted the wanderers to an old ruined house, where
there was a large company of disguised demons. They all passed a merry
night, singing and carousing. Then the news comes that the bishop is
dead. The parson and clerk determine to set out at once. Their steeds
are brought, but will not budge a step. The parson cuts savagely at his
horse. The demons roar with unearthly laughter. The ruined house and all
the devils vanish. The waves are overwhelming the riders, and in the
morning the wretches are found clinging to the rocks with the grasp of
death, which ever afterwards record their villainy and their fate.

Among tales of awe and weird mystery stands out the story of the
adventures of Peter Priestly, clerk, sexton, and gravestone cutter, of
Wakefield, who flourished at the end of the eighteenth century. He was
an old and much respected inhabitant of the town, and not at all given
to superstitious fears. One Saturday evening he went to the church to