The Lilac Sunbonnet: A Love StoryCrockett, S. R. (Samuel Rutherford)
General
The Lilac Sunbonnet: A Love Story
Crockett, S. R. (Samuel Rutherford)
Fiction; Love stories
"Weel, I ken juist this if nae mair: my son disna sit on ony o'
yer stools o' repentance," said Eppie Mowdiewort, demonstrating
the truth of her position with her hand clenched at the dominie,
who, like all clerks of ecclesiastical assemblies, was exceedingly
industrious in taking notes to very small purpose. "Mair nor that,
I'm maybe an unlearned woman, but I've been through the Testaments
mair nor yince--the New Testament mair nor twice--an' I never saw
naethin' aboot stools o' repentance in the hoose o' God. But my
son Saunders was readin' to me the ither nicht in a fule history
buik, an' there it said that amang the Papists they used to hae
fowk that didna do as they did an' believe as they believed. Sae
wi' a lang white serk on, an' a can'le i' their hands, they set
them up for the rabble fowk to clod at them, an' whiles they tied
them to a bit stick an' set lunt [fire] to them--an that's the
origin o' yer stool o' repentance. What say ye to that?"
Mrs. Mowdiewort's lecture on church history was not at all
appreciated by the session. The minister rose.
"We will close this sederunt," he said; "we can mak' nocht o'
these two. Alexander Mowdiewort, thou art removed from thy office
of grave-digger in the parish kirkyard, and both thysel' and thy
mother are put under suspension for contumacy!"
"Haith!" said Elspeth Mowdiewort, pushing back her hair; "did ye
ever hear the mak' o' the craitur. I haena been within his kirk
door for twenty year. It's a guid job that a body can aye gang
doon to godly Maister Welsh, though he's an awfu' body to deave
[deafen] ye wi' the Shorter Quastions."
"An it's a guid thing," added Saunders, "that there's a new
cemetery a-makkin'. There's no room for anither dizzen in yer auld
kailyaird onyway--an' that I'm tellin' ye. An' I'm promised the
new job too. Ye can howk yer ain graves yersel's."
"Fash na yer heid, Saunders, aboot them," said the old betheral at
the door; "it's me that's to be grave-digger, but ye shall howk
them a' the same in the mornin', an' get the siller, for I'm far
ower frail--ye can hae them a' by afore nine o'clock, an' the
minister disna pu' up his bedroom blind till ten!"
Thus it was that Saunders Mowdiewort ended his connection with an
Erastian establishment, and became a true and complete member of
the Marrow kirk. His mother also attended with exemplary
diligence, but she was much troubled with a toothache on the days
of catechising, and never quite conquered her unruly member to the
last. But this did not trouble herself much--only her neighbours.
CHAPTER XVII.
WHEN THE KYE COMES HAME.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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