"The muckle kirk!" repeated Thomas, in a tone of contempt. "What get ye there but the dry banes o' morality, upo' which the win' o' the word has never blawn to pit life into the puir disjaskit skeleton. Come ye to oor kirk, an' ye'll get a rousin', I can tell ye, man. Eh! man, gin ye war ance convertit, ye wad ken hoo to sing. It's no great singin' 'at _ye_ guide." Before the conversation had reached this point another listener had arrived: the blue eyes of Annie Anderson were fixed upon the speaker from over the half-door of the workshop. The drip from the thatch-eaves was dropping upon her shabby little shawl as she stood, but she was utterly heedless of it in the absorption of hearkening to Thomas Crann, who talked with authority, and a kind of hard eloquence of persuasion. I ought to explain here that the _muckle kirk_ meant the parish church; and that the religious community to which Thomas Crann belonged was one of the first results of the propagation of English Independency in Scotland. These Independents went commonly by the name of _Missionars_ in all that district; a name arising apparently from the fact that they were the first in the neighbourhood to advocate the sending of missionaries to the heathen. The epithet was, however, always used with a considerable admixture of contempt. "Are ye no gaein to get a minister o' yer ain, Thamas?" resumed George, after a pause, still wishing to turn the cart-wheels of the conversation out of the deep ruts in which the stiff-necked Thomas seemed determined to keep them moving. "Na; we'll bide a bit, and try the speerits. We're no like you--forced to lat ower (swallow) ony jabble o' lukewarm water that's been stan'in' i' the sun frae year's en' to year's en', jist because the p�tron pleases to stick a pump intil 't an' ca' 't a well o' salvation. We'll ken whaur the water comes frae. We'll taste them a', and cheese accordin'." "Weel, I wadna like the trouble nor yet the responsibility." "I daursay not." "Na. Nor yet the shame o' pretennin' to jeedge my betters," added George, now a little nettled, as was generally the result at last of Thomas's sarcastic tone. "George," said Thomas solemnly, "nane but them that has the speerit can ken the speerit." With these words, he turned and strode slowly and gloomily out of the shop--no doubt from dissatisfaction with the result of his attempt.