Ill woodwind blows no-one any good
06 June 2004. Inspired by .
"There followed a surreal interlude, in which the Lady Reverend lugged a fat little girl out of a pew, who proceeded to produce a recorder and blow into it. Pain-ful-note-by-note, with an occasional macaw-like squawk. I couldn’t even identify the tune, but the key and appalling fact about it was that it repeated after about ten bars. Again, and again, and again, and again, and again.
"After a while, everyone was looking at each other, muttering ‘Fit’s thus a’ aboot?’; while the unfortunate child, thus condemned to do her recorder practice in public, was scarlet in the face, and rolling her eyes piteously at the Lady Reverend who, with a firm little nod, directed her, ‘and again, my dear.’ The Lord alone knows why. When at last she let her go and the victim had dived thankfully back into the shelter of a pew, the good lady informed us that we had just heard a performance of ‘Sleep, Baby, Sleep.’ -- Fortunately, he had."
The Deep North attends a christening.