When the bodies assembled next day for their "morning," the Deacon was able to inform them that young Gourlay was back from the College, dafter than ever, and that he had pulled his leg as far as he wanted it. "Oh," he said, "I played him like a kitten wi' a cork, and found out ainything and everything I wished. I dithcovered that he's in wi' Jock Allan and that crowd--I edged the conversation round on purpoth! Unless he wath blowing his trump--which I greatly doubt--they're as thick as thieveth. Ye ken what that meanth. He'll turn hith wee finger to the ceiling oftener than he puts hith forefinger to the pen, I'm thinking. It theemth he drinkth enormuth! He took a gey nip last thummer, and this thummer I wager he takes mair o't. He avowed his plain intention. 'I mean to kick up a bit of a dust,' thays he. Oh, but he's the splurge!" "Ay, ay," said Sandy Toddle, "thae students are a gey squad--especially the young ministers." "Ou," said Tam Wylie, "dinna be hard on the ministers. Ministers are just like the rest o' folk. They mind me o' last year's early tatties. They're grand when they're gude, but the feck o' them's frostit." "Ay," said the Deacon, "and young Gourlay's frostit in the shaw already. I doubt it'll be a poor ingathering." "Weel, weel," said Tam Wylie, "the mair's the pity o' that, Deacon." "Oh, it'th a grai-ait pity," said the Deacon, and he bowed his body solemnly with outspread hands. "No doubt it'th a grai-ait pity!" and he wagged his head from side to side, the picture of a poignant woe. "I saw him in the Black Bull yestreen," said Brodie, who had been silent hitherto in utter scorn of the lad they were speaking of--too disgusted to open his mouth. "He was standing drinks to a crowd that were puffing him up about that prize o' his." "It's alwayth the numskull hath the most conceit," said the Deacon. "And yet there must be something in him too, to get that prize," mused the ex-Provost. "A little ability's a dangerous thing," said Johnny Coe, who could think at times. "To be safe you should be a genius winged and flying, or a crawling thing that never leaves the earth. It's the half-and-half that hell gapes for. And owre they flap." But nobody understood him. "Drink and vanity'll soon make end of _him_," said Brodie curtly, and snubbed the philosopher.