Recollect this circumstance, for it is connected with my
story.
'In the porch Dr. Leatrim had placed a box against the wall, on the
right-hand side as you went in, for receiving contributions for the
poor. It was only unlocked twice a year, at Christmas and Easter, and
its contents distributed to the most needy among his parishioners.
There were many wealthy people in the neighbourhood, and the poor-box
generally yielded a plentiful harvest for the destitute.
'The key of the box was always kept in the rector's study, and occupied
the same hook with the key of the church. The windows of this room were
directly opposite to the church. No person had access to this apartment
but Dr. Leatrim, his wife and son, and old Ralph. The latter kept it in
order, for fear the women folk should disarrange his master's papers.
He performed all the dusting and cleaning, and never was there a room
kept more scrupulously neat. He had a private desk for his own use
under one of the windows, in which he kept all the accounts that passed
through his hands; and it was not an unusual sight to see the Doctor
composing his startling, soul-awakening sermons at the large table in
the centre of the room, and the little shrewd-looking, grey-haired
house-steward dotting down figures quietly at the desk below the
window. His presence never disturbed his master, who often read to him
portions of the discourse he was writing, for his approval.
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