About eleven I saw a clerical gentleman arriving, who I rightly concluded was the parson coming to conduct the service.

Presently the strangest of noises I have ever heard arose from the back-premises of the tiny house.

It is difficult to conceive anything so grotesque as some Dutch singing is.
Imagine a doleful wail of many voices, shrill treble and deep bass, all on one note, now swelling in volume, now almost dying away, sung with a certain metre, and presumably with soul-stirring words, but with no attempt to keep together or any pretensions to an air of any kind, and you will have an idea of a Dutch chant or hymn.

This noise--for it cannot be called a harmony--might equally well be produced by a howling party of dogs and cats.

Then followed long prayers--for only the parson's voice could be heard--then more dirges, after which it was over, and all trooped away, apparently much edified.