Clergy -- Fiction; Country life -- Scotland -- Fiction; Deception -- Fiction; Romanies -- Fiction; Scotland -- Fiction
"But the most astounding thing has yet to be telled," went on
Elspeth. "The minister shook himsel' like one wakening frae a
nasty dream, and he cries in a voice of thunder, just as if he was
shaking his fist at somebody--"
"He cries," Birse interposed, cleverly, "he cries, 'You will find
the text in Genesis, chapter three, verse six.'"
"Yes," said Elspeth, "first he gave out one text, and then he gave
out another, being the most amazing thing to my mind that ever
happened in the town of Thrums. What will our children's children
think o't? I wouldna hae missed it for a pound note."
"Nor me," said Waster Lunny, "though I only got the tail o't.
Dominie, no sooner had he said Genesis third and sixth, than I
laid my finger on Ezra. Was it no provoking? Onybody can turn up
Genesis, but it needs an able-bodied man to find Ezra."
"He preached on the Fall," Elspeth said, "for an hour and twenty-
five minutes, but powerful though he was I would rather he had
telled us what made him gie the go-by to Ezra."
"All I can say," said Waster Lunny, "is that I never heard him
mair awe-inspiring. Whaur has he got sic a knowledge of women? He
riddled them, he fair riddled them, till I was ashamed o' being
married."
"It's easy kent whaur he got his knowledge of women," Birse
explained, "it's a' in the original Hebrew. You can howk ony
mortal thing out o' the original Hebrew, the which all ministers
hae at their finger ends. What else makes them ken to jump a verse
now and then when giving out a psalm?"
"It wasna women like me he denounced," Elspeth insisted, "but
young lassies that leads men astray wi' their abominable wheedling
ways."
"Tod," said her husband, "if they try their hands on Mr. Dishart
they'll meet their match."
"They will," chuckled the post. "The Hebrew's a grand thing,
though teuch, I'm telled, michty teuch."
"His sublimest burst," Waster Lunny came back to tell me, "was
about the beauty o' the soul being everything and the beauty o'
the face no worth a snuff. What a scorn he has for bonny faces and
toom souls! I dinna deny but what a bonny face fell takes me, but
Mr. Dishart wouldna gie a blade o' grass for't. Ay, and I used to
think that in their foolishness about women there was dagont
little differ atween the unlearned and the highly edicated."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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