Birkin settles gratefully into a routine, feeling a happy contentment as he works on the mural. In one of her visits, Kathy suggests if Birkin is so happy in Oxgodby that he could stay there, perhaps as a schoolteacher. Even Alice inquires about Birkin’s curious career choice—there can’t be that many old church murals that need to be restored—but for Birkin the mural work has been less about his future and more the past. He is finding his way to the Middle Ages: “They weren’t us in fancy dress, mouths full of these and thous, quoths, prithees and zounds” (66). As he works, he reflects on his drift from religion. He overhears the church services and has begun to sit in. The preachers differ each week. It is not always Keach. Members of the congregation take turns and deliver the word of God with “zeal and conviction” (69). On Sunday nights, the congregation gathers around the church’s old pipe organ and have an open house sing-along. Caught up in the moment, Birkin volunteers to sing—but he only knows an off-color drinking song from the military. He accompanies himself and sings all six verses. Later, Kathy’s mother suggests next time he change “ale” to “tea.