'I dinna belang to yer kirk, sir, an' I hae nae claim on ye ava'; tho' I canna but say it's whiles gye an' hard for a puir body to gar the twa ends meet. What wi' sickness, an' a' things sae dear, it's a sair fecht for puir folk, whiles, to keep saul an' body thegither. But we maun thole. Them 'at sends a' things kens what's for our gude.' And so on. A spirit of fine sturdy independence, uncomplaining poverty, and patient trust in Providence, moderately expressed, furnished out a harangue which refreshed the soul of the worthy preacher. If tares must inevitably be found among the standing corn, it is all the more refreshing to the disappointed husbandman to see the good seed springing up outside his enclosure, and Tibbie Tirpie bore the reputation of being a cold and worldly person with the fervid professors among whom he laboured. He felt himself privileged in being allowed to minister assistance to so much modest worth, and returned home refreshed in spirit. When he left the cottage the night had closed in, with only the glimmering stars to light him on his way. He walked slowly homewards, musing as he went on the trials and hardships of the poor, and the pious fortitude and noble courage with which they so often bear them. He fell into a reverie, and did not perceive that two men coming down behind him had overtaken and passed him. It was quite otherwise with them. Like the owls and other creatures which fly by night, their faculties were all awake. 'Preserve us a! Saw ye e'er the like? Slinkin' hame e'y dark, wi' his head atween 's feet, like a dug scaddet wi' puddin' brue. He ne'er turned round e'en whan we gaed by, like's he thocht shame to meet the glint o' honest folk's e'en.' 'What mean ye? Peter Malloch. Yon's the minister! or I'm sair mistaen, stappin' cannily hame. He's been readin', belike, an' prayin wi' some auld puir body 'at's ower frail to gang t'ey kirk. My certie! but he's the faithfu' servant, 'at sees the folk hae their meat i' due season. I wuss there were mair like him. It gars a body think shame o' their ain puir fushionless godliness, to see the gude he's aye after. Ne'er sparin' himsel', but juist spendin,' an' spent for the gude o' ither folk. He'll hae his reward!' 'Man, Tummas, ye're a rael Nathanael! It diz a body gude to hear til ye whiles. Ye hae the charity 'at thinketh no evil, an' mony's the time I'm juist winderin' hoo ye can carry on wi't. Ye do weel to think nae ill, but hoo ye can look about ye, an' stick til't, passes me. I dinna see either 'at we're ca'd on to let folk mak a fuil o's wi' their sough o' godliness an them nae better than oorsels, but rather waur, seein' what they set up for. I'm thinkin' they're juist maist like whitet sepulchers ower the dead men's banes; an' naebody's ca'd on to think weel o' sic like, ye ken.' 'I see na what ye're drivin' at. But I'se lippen 'til our young minister afore ony man I hae e'er clappit my eyen on!'