But the boycotting brought even better results than these I have indicated. A neighboring laird who had for years been an ardent follower of Kingsley, and a strong Christian Socialist, came to the front with counsel and material help which ended in our being able to convert our disused church into a hall for classes and social gatherings. We opened it on three nights a week as a reading and recreation room; by and by it was duly enrolled as a school under the South Kensington Science and Art Department; classes in chemistry, physiography and agriculture were commenced and carried on with great success; popular lectures were given on all kinds of useful subjects, and today there are of our young men not a few in various parts of the world whose ability to perform the important work committed to them was largely due, in the first instance, to the narrow-minded policy which caused the Frees to boycott the “Gentle Persuasion.” X. The Auld Provost Tammas Brown, ex-provost of the ancient burgh of Drumscondie, held a most unique position in the little commonwealth. For many years he had filled the civic chair; his tenure of the office was still proudly remembered, and his opinions quoted, by the burgesses of the “toon.” It was he who bore the cost of restoring the steeple which for over a century had carried the bell that rung the “curfew.” The “auld provost,” as he was called, was a notable man in the community. While he never now interfered openly in civic affairs, he was kept well posted as to all the doings of the “Cooncil,” and it was well known that to attempt any scheme which did not have his approval was to court certain failure. His successor was a “hairmless, haverin’ bodie,” not overstocked with prudence, and certainly not over-burdened with wisdom; and, had there not been sometimes the unseen influence of Tammas Brown at work, things would not have gone as smoothly as they did. Speaking of Willie Dundas, the provost in my day, I am reminded of an amusing incident that well illustrated his crass ignorance and self-conceit. He had gone to spend a day or two in his native village of Friockheim, about twenty miles from Drumscondie. On his return he was met at the railway station by a member of the “Toon Cooncil,” and the two men walked home together, discussing current events. During his absence there had been a solar eclipse, which caused quite a commotion among the villagers. “Aye, Provost, an’ did you see the eclipse?” said the Cooncillor. The great man was amazed at the question, and replied in a tone that was meant to crush the questioner: “Man, Donald, I wonder at ye speerin’ sic a thing; hoo cud I see the eclipse, an’ me at Friockheim?”