When the new Free Kirk minister was settled in Drumtochty, Jamie told him the story on the road one day and put him to the test. “What think ye, sir, becam' o' Posty on the ither side?” and Jamie fixed his eyes on Carmichael. The minister's face grew still whiter. “Did ye ever read what shall be done to any man that hurts one of God's bairns?” “Fine,” answered Jamie, with relish, “a millstane aboot his neck, an' intae the depths o' the sea.” “Then, it seems to me that it must be well with Posty, who went into the depths and brought a bairn up at the cost of his life,” and Carmichael added softly, “whose angel doth continually behold the face of the Father.” “Yir hand, sir,” said Jamie, and when the great heresy trial began at Muirtown, Jamie prophesied Carmichael's triumphant acquittal, declaring him a theologian of the first order. GOOD NEWS FROM A FAR COUNTRY NARROW circumstances and high spirit drove forth some half-dozen young men and women from the Glen every year, to earn their living in the cities of the South. They carried with them, as a working capital, sound education, unflagging industry, absolute integrity, and an undying attachment to Drumtochty. Their one necessary luxury was a weekly copy of the _Muirtown Advertiser_, which four servant lasses would share between them and circulate at church doors, carefully wrapt in a page of some common daily, and their one hour of unmixed enjoyment its careful perusal, column by column, from the first word to the last. It would have been foolishness to omit the advertisements, for you might have missed the name of Drumsheugh in connection with a sale of stirks; and although at home no Drumtochty person allowed himself to take an interest in the affairs of Kildrummie or Netheraird, yet the very names of neighbouring parishes sounded kindly at the distance of Glasgow. One paragraph was kept for the last, and read from six to twelve times, because it was headed Drumtochty, and gave an account of the annual ploughing match, or the school examination, or the flower show, or a winter lecture, when Jamie Soutar had proposed the vote of thanks. Poor little news and names hard of pronunciation-; but the girl sitting alone by the kitchen fire--her fellow servants gone to bed--or the settler in the far Northwest--for he also got his _Advertiser_ after long delays--felt the caller air blowing down the Glen, and saw the sun shining on the Tochty below the mill, and went up between the pinks and moss-roses to the dear old door--ah me! the click of the garden gate--and heard again the sound of the Hundredth Psalm in the parish kirk. If one wished to take a complete census of our people in Glasgow, he had only to attend when Doctor Davidson preached on the fast day, and make his way afterwards to the vestry door.