“It's a doonricht sin tae abuse the land like yon, but it 'ill be a lesson, neeburs, an' a'm no expeckin' anither pig merchant 'ill get a fairm in Drumtochty.” This incident raised Gormack into a historical personage, and invested him with an association of humour for the rest of his life, so that when conversation languished in the third some one would ask Gormack “what he hed dune wi' his ventilators,” or “hoo the berry hairst wes shapin' this year.” One could not expect a comedy of this kind twice in a generation, but the arranging of a lease was always an event of the first order in our commonwealth, and afforded fine play for every resource of diplomacy. The two contracting parties were the factor, who spent his days in defending his chief's property from the predatory instincts of enterprising farmers, and knew every move of the game, a man of shrewd experience, imperturbable good humour, and many wiles, and on the other side, a farmer whose wits had been sharpened by the Shorter Catechism since he was a boy,--with the Glen as judges. Farms were not put in the _Advertiser_ on this estate, and thrown open to the public from Dan to Beersheba, so that there was little risk of the tenant losing his home. Neither did the adjustment of rent give serious trouble, as the fair value of every farm, down to the bit of hill above the arable land and the strips of natural grass along the burns, was known to a pound. There were skirmishes over the rent, of course, but the battle-ground was the number of improvements which the tenant could wring from the landlord at the making of the lease. Had a tenant been in danger of eviction, then the Glen had risen in arms, as it did in the case of Burnbrae; but this was a harmless trial of strength which the Glen watched with critical impartiality. The game was played slowly between seedtime and harvest, and each move was reported in the kirkyard. Its value was appreciated at once, and although there was greater satisfaction when a neighbour won, yet any successful stroke of the factor's was keenly enjoyed--the beaten party himself conceding its cleverness. When the factor so manipulated the conditions of draining Netherton's meadow land that Netherton had to pay for the tiles, the kirkyard chuckled, and Netherton admitted next market that the factor “wes a lad”--meaning a compliment to his sharpness, for all things were fair in this war--and when Drumsheugh involved the same factor in so many different and unconnected promises of repairs that it was found cheaper in the end to build him a new steading, the fathers had no bounds to their delight; and Whinnie, who took an hour longer than any other man to get a proper hold of anything, suddenly slapped his leg in the middle of the sermon.