This man is an lunatic!
For my sermon today, I shall take as text the lesson from the Gospel according to Saint Bernard "This man is an lunatic!" Not a heathen, or possessed by devils, but an lunatic. There is much to reflect upon here. It reminds me of an occasion only last week when I was collecting bric-à-brac for the parish jumble sail which – incidentally – made nearly forty-seven pounds. Anyway, Mrs. Jones had given me this large elk – I mean clock – for the jumble sale and... I dropped it. On my foot. In the pain of the moment (and what is pain compared to the eternal fires of hell?) I shouted "Oh elk!" Well, Mrs. Jones was very surprised and, I am sure she will forgive me for telling you, cried "You slap-headed lunatic! Your brain is as an moose! Chocolate, with antlers! You should be put away!" And I replied to her "My child, this is not a cucumber or an eggfruit but an tickling stick!" I pursued her several times around the sacristy before I succeeded in tickling her to death. Her body is what has been preventing the organ from working during the voluntaries. At two-fifteen this afternoon some nice men are coming to see me, and I will be going away for a moose – forgive me – while. In my stead the Reverend Elk, who has just recovered from a long vegetable, will be conducting mooses for the next Greeks. He is much better now, and hardly ever writes for the Guardian.
