The Annals of the Parish: Or, the Chronicle of Dalmailing During the Ministry of the Rev. Micah BalwhidderGalt, John
General
The Annals of the Parish: Or, the Chronicle of Dalmailing During the Ministry of the Rev. Micah Balwhidder
Galt, John
Clergy -- Fiction; Scotland -- Fiction
It seems that poor Jenny, having heard of the luminations that were
lighted up through the country on the ending of the Popish Bill, had,
with Meg, travelled by themselves into Glasgow, where they had gathered
or begged a stock of candles, and coming back under the cloud of night,
had surprised and alarmed the whole clachan, by lighting up their window
in the manner that I have described. Poor Miss Sabrina, at Jenny’s
uncivil salutation, went back to my lady with her heart full, and would
fain have had the idiots brought to task before the session, for what
they had said to her. But I would not hear tell of such a thing, for
which Miss Sabrina owed me a grudge that was not soon given up. At the
same time, I was grieved to see the testimonies of joyfulness for a holy
victory, brought into such disrepute by the ill-timed demonstrations of
the two irreclaimable naturals, that had not a true conception of the
cause for which they were triumphing.
CHAPTER XXII
YEAR 1781
IF the two last years passed o’er the heads of me and my people without
any manifest dolour, which is a great thing to say for so long a period
in this world, we had our own trials and tribulations in the one of which
I have now to make mention. Mungo Argyle, the exciseman, waxing rich,
grew proud and petulant, and would have ruled the country side with a rod
of iron. Nothing less would serve him than a fine horse to ride on, and
a world of other conveniences and luxuries, as if he had been on an
equality with gentlemen. And he bought a grand gun, which was called a
fowling-piece; and he had two pointer dogs, the like of which had not
been seen in the parish since the planting of the Eaglesham-wood on the
moorland, which was four years before I got the call. Every body said
the man was fey; and truly, when I remarked him so gallant and gay on the
Sabbath at the kirk, and noted his glowing face and gleg een, I thought
at times there was something no canny about him. It was indeed clear to
be seen, that the man was hurried out of himself; but nobody could have
thought that the death he was to dree would have been what it was.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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