It was a tribute in its way to Milton that he alone of all men aroused the dislike of the kindest of parishes, so that men fled from before his face. Hillocks, who was never happy unless he had two extra on his dogcart, and unto that end only drew the line at tramps, would pass with a bare compliment on board, and drop the scantiest salutation. “Hoo are ye the day, Milton? a' doot it's threatenin' a shoor.” Drumsheugh had been known to disappear into a potato field at Milton's approach, under pretence of examining the tubers, while Bumbrae, who was incarnate charity, and prejudiced in favour of anything calling itself religion, abandoned this “professor” in regretful silence. Drumtochty was careful not to seat themselves in the third until Milton had taken his place, when they chose another compartment, until at last Peter used to put in this superior man with Kildrummie to avoid delay. It was long before Milton realised that Drumtochty did not consider his company a privilege, and then he was much lifted, seeing clearly the working of conscience in a benighted district. “Milton hes been giein' oot in Muirtown that he's thankfu' he wes sent tae Drumtochty,” Jamie announced one Sabbath, with chastened delight, “an' that his example wes affectin' us already. 'They daurna face me in the verra train,' says he tae Tammas Bisset; 'it's the first time yon fouk ever came across a speeritual man. They're beginnin' tae revile, an' we ken what that means; a' never thocht a' wud hae the honour of persecution for righteousness' sake.' That 's his ain mind on't, an' it's a comfort tae think that Milton's contented.” “A've kent anc or twa fair leears in ma time,” reflected Hillocks, “but for a bare-face--” “Persecuted is a lairge word,” broke in Drumsheugh, “ay, an' a graund tae, an' no fit for Milton's mooth. Gin he named it tae me, a'd teach him anither story. A foumart (pole cat) micht as weel speak o' persecution when he's hunted aff the hillside. “Na, na,” and Drumsheugh set himself to state the case once for all, “we 've oor faults maybe in Drumtochty,” going as far by way of concession as could be expected, “but we 're no juist born fules; we 've as muckle sense as the chuckies, 'at ken the differ atween corn an' chaff wi' a luke.” Jamie indicated by a nod that Drumsheugh was on the track. “Noo there's ane o' oor neeburs,” proceeding to illustration, “'at lectures against drink frae ae new year tae anither. He's a true man, an' he luves the Glen, an' naebody 'ill say an ill word o' Airchie Moncur--no in this kirk-yaird at ony rate.” “A fine bit craiturie,” interjected Hillocks, whom Archie had often besought in vain to take the pledge for example's sake, being an elder.