Follows the prayer, the readin’ next, An’ than the fisslin’ for the text— The twa-three last to find it, vext But kind o’ proud; An’ than the peppermints are raxed, An’ southernwood. XIX For noo’s the time whan pows are seen Nid-noddin’ like a mandareen; When tenty mithers stap a preen In sleepin’ weans; An’ nearly half the parochine Forget their pains. XX There’s just a waukrif’ twa or three: Thrawn commentautors sweer to ’gree, Weans glowrin’ at the bumlin’ bee On windie-glasses, Or lads that tak a keek a-glee At sonsie lasses. XXI Himsel’, meanwhile, frae whaur he cocks An’ bobs belaw the soundin’-box, The treesures of his words unlocks Wi’ prodigality, An’ deals some unco dingin’ knocks To infidality. XXII Wi’ snappy unction, hoo he burkes The hopes o’ men that trust in works, Expounds the fau’ts o’ ither kirks, An’ shaws the best o’ them No muckle better than mere Turks, When a’s confessed o’ them. XXIII Bethankit! what a bonny creed! What mair would ony Christian need?— The braw words rumm’le ower his heid, Nor steer the sleeper; And in their restin’ graves, the deid Sleep aye the deeper. AUTHOR’S NOTE It may be guessed by some that I had a certain parish in my eye, and this makes it proper I should add a word of disclamation. In my time there have been two ministers in that parish. Of the first I have a special reason to speak well, even had there been any to think ill. The second I have often met in private and long (in the due phrase) “sat under” in his church, and neither here nor there have I heard an unkind or ugly word upon his lips. The preacher of the text had thus no original in that particular parish; but when I was a boy he might have been observed in many others; he was then (like the schoolmaster) abroad; and by recent advices, it would seem he has not yet entirely disappeared.