His successor had enjoyed the remarkable privilege of ministering in a fleeting capacity to the health of sixty-three parishes during a professional practice of under twenty years, and retained through all vicissitudes a pronounccd Glasgow accent, and an unquenchable thirst for distilled liquors. Dr. Murchieson was not greedy about fees, and had acquired considerable skill in his eventful life, so the Glen endured him for three months, but used him with precautions. “Gin ye catch him gaein' east,” Hillocks summed up, “he's as quiet a man as ye wud wish, and skilly tae, but comin' wast he's clean redeeklus; last nicht,” added Hillocks, “he wes cairyin' his hat on the pint o' his stick an' singin' 'Scots wha hae.'” An unaccountable tendency in certain states of mind to prescribe calomel tried the patience of the Glen, and Gormack conceived a personal prejudice against Murchieson because he had ordered him to be blistered with croton oil till he returned next day, when Gormack had a “titch” of bronchitis; but his cup ran over the night he sounded a pillow instead of Maggie Martin's lungs, and gave her mother no hope. “Congested frae top tae bottom; nae whasle (rales) at a' the day; naethin' can be dune; a fine lassie,” and he departed, after a brief nap, full of music. Hillocks drove him to the station, and he seemed to bear no grudge. “That maks saxty-fower--a 've forgotten the names, but a' keep the coont.” His farewell was divided between a generous appreciation of Drumtochty and an unfeigned regret that Kildrummie had no refreshment-room. “Ilka trade hes some ne'er-dae-weels, an' the doctors hae fewer than maist. Ye canna expect onything else frae thae orra craturs,” said Drumsheugh next Sabbath, “an' we 're better withoot them. It passes me hoo yon body stude it, for he wes aye tastin'.” “He didna stand it,” broke in Hillocks with eagerness; “div ye ken hoo mony whups he 's hed? 'A've been saxty-fower times,' he says to me at Kildrummie; a' doot he wes exaggerating though.” “Been what, Hillocks?” inquired Jamie with keen interest. “Ye ken what a'm ettlin' aifter fine, Jamie, an' it's no a chancy word tae mention.” “Wes't _locum tenens?_” “That,” said Hillocks, “is the word, if ye maun hae it; a' wunner the body's no feared; it's an awfu' business,” and Hillocks dropped into morals, “when a man canna manage his drink.” Jamie declared that he had never seen the kirkyard so overcome, and ever afterwards Hillocks's name suggested sudden and captivating strokes of humour, so that men's faces lit up at the sight of him.