Clergy -- Fiction; Love stories; Scotland -- Fiction
"Ay, he can pray for a black frost as if it was ane o' the Royal
Family. I ken his prayers, 'O Lord, let it haud for anither day, and
keep the snaw awa'.' Will you pretend, Jeames, that Mr. Duthie could
make onything o' Rob Dow?"
"I admit that Rob's awakening was an extraordinary thing, and
sufficient to gie Mr. Dishart a name. But Mr. Carfrae was baffled wi'
Rob too."
"Jeames, if you had been in our kirk that day Mr. Dishart preached
for't you would be wearying the now for Sabbath, to be back in't
again. As you ken, that wicked man there, Jo Cruickshanks, got Rob
Dow, drucken, cursing, poaching Rob Dow, to come to the kirk to annoy
the minister. Ay, he hadna been at that work for ten minutes when Mr.
Dishart stopped in his first prayer and ga'e Rob a look. I couldna see
the look, being in the precentor's box, but as sure as death I felt it
boring through me. Rob is hard wood, though, and soon he was at his
tricks again. Weel, the minister stopped a second time in the sermon,
and so awful was the silence that a heap o' the congregation couldna
keep their seats. I heard Rob breathing quick and strong. Mr. Dishart
had his arm pointed at him a' this time, and at last he says sternly,
'Come forward.' Listen, Joseph Cruickshanks, and tremble. Rob gripped
the board to keep himsel' frae obeying, and again Mr. Dishart says,
'Come forward,' and syne Rob rose shaking, and tottered to the pulpit
stair like a man suddenly shot into the Day of Judgment. 'You hulking
man of sin,' cries Mr. Dishart, not a tick fleid, though Rob's as big
as three o' him, 'sit down on the stair and attend to me, or I'll step
doun frae the pulpit and run you out of the house of God.'"
"And since that day," said Hobart, "Rob has worshipped Mr. Dishart as
a man that has stepped out o' the Bible. When the carriage passed this
day we was discussing the minister, and Sam'l Dickie wasna sure but
what Mr. Dishart wore his hat rather far back on his head. You should
have seen Rob. 'My certie,' he roars, 'there's the shine frae Heaven
on that little minister's face, and them as says there's no has me to
fecht.'"
"Ay, weel," said the U. P., rising, "we'll see how Rob wears--and how
your minister wears too. I wouldna like to sit in a kirk whaur they
daurna sing a paraphrase."
"The Psalms of David," retorted Whamond, "mount straight to heaven,
but your paraphrases sticks to the ceiling o' the kirk."
"You're a bigoted set, Tammas Whamond, but I tell you this, and it's
my last words to you the nicht, the day'll come when you'll hae Mr.
Duthie, ay, and even the U. P. minister, preaching in the Auld Licht
kirk."
"And let this be my last words to you," replied the precentor,
furiously; "that rather than see a U. P. preaching in the Auld Licht
kirk I would burn in hell fire for ever!"
This gossip increased Gavin's knowledge of the grim men with whom he
had now to deal. But as he sat beside Margaret after she had gone to
bed, their talk was pleasant.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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