Scotland -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Short stories
He was already selecting the psalm, when Burnbrae asked leave to say a
word, and there was such a stillness that the ticking of the clock in
the lobby was heard over the kitchen.
“It isna needfu' for me tae tell ye, freends, that my mind is wi' the
Free Kirk in her contention, and a' houp for grace tae obey ma licht as
lang as a' live.
“Nae man's conscience, hooever, is a law tae his neebur, but every man
maun follow the guidance o' the Speerit; an' gin a' hev said a hasty or
bitter word against the Auld Kirk, or called her ony unworthy name thae
past years, a' want tae say that nane regrets it mair than a' dae masel,
and it becomes me, this nicht, tae ask yir pardon.”
“You never did anything of the kind, Burnbrae,” said the doctor huskily.
“I wish to God we were all as good men,” and the Free Kirk elder and the
Moderate minister clasped hands across the open Bible. Then the
doctor cleared his throat with great majesty, and gave out the
Hundred-and-thirty-third Psalm:
“Behold how good a thing it is,
And how becoming well,
Together, such as brethren are
In unity to dwell.”
And the sweet sound of Eastgate floated out on the peaceful air of the
Glen, where the harvest moon was shining upon fields of gold.
A MANIFEST JUDGMENT
When the practice of Drumtochty was advertised, and the duties defined
by geography--the emoluments being treated with marked reserve--the
medical profession did not contend in a body for the post, and it was
more than a year before William Maclure had a successor. During the
interregnum temporary physicians of varied experience and erratic
character took charge of our health for short periods, and the Glen
had experiences which are still fondly cherished, and afforded Elspeth
Macfadyen the raw material for some of her most finished products. One
of these worthies was a young gentleman twenty-four years of age and of
Irish descent, whose thirst for fees and hatred of anything beyond the
minimum of labour bordered on genius. It was he who declined to enter
Lizzie Taylor's house, although sent for in the most interesting
circumstances, and discoursed outside the door with a volubility that
seemed almost Satanic, till he had received an earnest of ten shillings
in fourteen coins of the realm. Perhaps the Glen was more indignant when
Dr. O'Bralligan declined to rise one night and go to Glen Urtach, “not
even if his sainted grandmother came to ask him, riding on-the back of
the Angel Gabriel.”
“It 'ill no be Gabriel 'at 'ill tak chairge o' him,” said Janies
Soutar succinctly. And the feeling in the kirkyard was so decided
that O'Bralligan left within a week, explaining to Peter Bruce at the
Junction that the people of Drumtochty were the “most oudacious and
on-reasonable set o' blackguards” he had ever seen.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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