You, gentle reader, who have not, I presume, been implicated in the unfortunate demise of a prelate of the church, and who are far from sinister carvings made from accursed wood, need not tremble but note the season, the drawing in of the evenings, the increasing darkness and the chill of the wind. To cap it all, the wood from which they have been carved has come from a tree once known locally as "the Hanging Oak". It came as a shock: I find that I absolutely shrink from the dark season." And well may Archdeacon Haynes shrink from the dark season for he has a dark secret himself, and the prayer desk at his stall is decorated with carvings of a cat, crouching as if to strike, a prick-eared and horned figure, "invested with the attributes of royalty", and a cowled figure who, on close inspection, is revealed to be "the King of Terrors" (I presume this means Death). H ere is an entry from the diary of the archdeacon of Barchester Cathedral, for Octo(or 197 years ago next week): "Candles lit in the choir for the first time at evening prayers.
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