His eye had fallen on that of Andrew Semple, who was looking up and listening with all attention, and there, unwittingly fixed, it had remained, till Andrew feeling himself singled out and addressed individually, stood up as by special command, and after some introductory stammering, found voice. 'It's little I can say 'at I _ken_, Mester Dowlas, an' I see na what for ye suld look to me to mak yer statement; but seein' ye're a minister 'at kens what's richt, an' wad na be for leadin' simple folk 'at lippens to ye, intil harm, I'm no mindin' gin I say what I can. A weel, sir, ye see it was just the very day our Davie was ta'en down wi' the jandies. It may hae been on a Tuesday? Na, it was Wadnesday, I'm gye an' sure it was a Wadnesday. I had gotten thegither a score o' yows, an' I was just gaun to herd them down by til Elluc Powie's; an' the gudewife she comes to me an' she says, "Andra," says she, "I'm sair misdoubtin' but our Davie"--or na! It was "that puir bairn Davie" she ca'd him. Ay! thae was her very words, "that he's gotten the jandies, an', gin yer road's through Glen Effick, I wuss ye wad just rin in as ye gang by, an' tell my Auntie Lillie, she's just graund on the jandies." An', says I, "gudewife, I'll do yer biddin'." An' sae, me an' my yows, an' my dug Bawtie--ay it was--Bawtie, I'm thinkin'--Mustard had gotten a lang jag in's forepaw, sae he bed at hame. Aweel, as I was sayin'--' 'Hurry up! Andra,' whispered the Laird, 'or it will be supper time before you get through! I want to get home.' 'The truith's better nor rubies, Laird! speer the minister there gin it's no! I wull no lee, for a' the lairds atween here an' Fruchie! an' it's a sair job to be mindin' byganes. But, as I was sayin', minister, we was just fornent the smiddie, (me, an' the yows, ye ken, an' Bawtie) whan wha suld I see but Auntie Lillie hersel, an' says I to her, "Hoo's a' wi' ye, Auntie?" says I--Na! that's no hit. It was her 'at says to me, "Andra Semple," says she, "but the sicht o' you's gude for sair eyen," says she, an' syne she speered for the gudewife. An' I up an' telled her hoo our Davie was down wi' the jandies, an' her, she was sair afflicket to hear tell o't, for she's a rael kindly auld body. An' says she to me, "It's just trouble an' affliction a' round," says she, "I'm thinkin' it's the days of the end 'at's comin' to pass," says she. "An' there's nane to lippen til. We're just born til evil as the sparks flee up. An' there's non that doeth gude, no not wan," for she's weel grundet e'y scripter, our Auntie Lillie. "An' ye'll no hae been hearin' what's come o'er our minister," says she, "Him we a' tuk for sic a sonsie honest laad, an' a gude!--aweel gin a' the folk says," says she, "be true, he's gaen clean wrang a' thegither." An' sae she up an' telled me a' 'at a'body kens a'ready; an' ye a' ken't, an' that's just hoo I cam to hear tell o't at the first. An' sae I hae telled ye a' I ken.'