… Then we called on Mrs Enock who, about a month or two back underwent a serious operation for gall stones at her daughter’s in the North of England. She says her doctors and friends think she has made, so far, a wonderful recovery. She tells me that her house is part of an ancient Roman temple. The foundations are evidently very good and probably ancient.
I received from the S.P.C.K this morning by Parcels’ Post my manuscript of “Rob Wilder” and 13 other pieces amounting to about 31000 words, with the usual polite “Declined with thanks” etc. After keeping me in suspense for 6 or 7 weeks and causing great loss of time. I sent it up to the Editorial Secretary about October 6th. The Secretary said in a PS that any other manuscripts which I might send should be considered.
The new and improved postal services were commenced today. Our old postman is gone elsewhere. The mail cart goes through from Banbury to Brailes, leaving the Bag of Sibford Gower Post Office at 7.5 am. Elley, who has for a year or two delivered the Sibford Ferris letters, now meets the mail at Sibford Gower P.O. and sorts the letters. Then he delivers the Sibford Ferris bag. Inns, the Sibford Gower Postmaster, sends out the letters for this village. We got ours this morning at about 7.45. The letters used to leave Sibford Gower at 3.50 and now they go at 5.15 in the afternoon.
Second Sunday in Advent.
…
I shivered dreadfully in the Sacrarium this morning just as I did last Sunday, though there was a good fire in the Vestry. There were only 100 present at Church this morning. Mr. Drane told me that next Sunday would be his last in Sibford. It was so dark in Church this morning that Charles was compelled to light the candles, still there was scarcely light enough for me to read the Epistle and Gospel by.
Very bright and pleasant morning, but the roads were so slippery with frost that we were unable to drive to Bloxham to visit Mrs Kershaw as we had promised her we would do. So we went to Sibford Ferris and telephonographed to Mrs Kershaw.
Anniversary of my dear Mother’s burial at St. Margaret’s, Ipswich in 1843. Also of the marriage of myself and my dear wife in St. James’s Church, Halifax, Yorkshire in 1853. A thaw and frost afterwards. I walked as far as Burdrop with Frank this afternoon but palpitatis cordis came on and I was compelled to return. I lay on the couch in the dining room for half an hour, had my feet rubbed and took two or three teaspoonfuls of peppermint with water and a little gin. Then I got very warm, especially in the feet, and was soon all right again.
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Read about the Rev Edward Stevens here.
