Charlie and the Chaplain

For a brief period during the end of the nineteenth century, while his parents were playing the music halls in Liverpool, the young Charlie Chaplin attended school at St Francis Xavier’s Church. Fr Gerard Manley Hopkins was there around the same time as priest and school chaplain.

Chaplain! Chaplain!

Yes, Chaplin?

Chaplain! Chaplain!

What is it, Chaplin?

Can I borrow your cane, sir?

My cane?

My lark-charmed, rook-racked, river-rounded rod?

My swish-fulfilled, fear-of-God into toothsome,

lion-limbed, lithe and wicked boys?

An odd request.

And your hat, sir?

My hat? My pudding-domed, vole-velvet bowler?

My brim-bridled, black as coal, soul-mate, balding pate-protector?

I don’t see why not.

And your boots, sir.

My boots?

My cow-given, rough-scored companions of walk and toil?

My gleaming fettlers, shining out like shook foil?

Why, they’re much too big for you.

The bigger the better, sir.

Glory be to God. And what, may I ask, do you intend doing

with a cane, bowler hat and a pair of oversized boots?

Pause.

Chaplin! Come back here. Chaplin! Stop acting the fool … Chaplin! Chaplin!’

Cue silent-movie piano music. Roll credits.

The End