,
Through the sequestered vale of rural life,
The venerable patriarch guileless held
The tenor of his way."
(_Porteus--"Death."_)

The priest who ministered to the Catholic flock of Ardmuirland in the
far-off days when "Bell o' the Burn" was a lassie was known as "Mr.
McGillivray"; for the repeal of the penal laws had not yet emancipated
the people from the cautious reticence of the days of persecution, and
they still spoke of "prayers" instead of "Mass," and of "speaking to
the priest" and "going forward" to intimate Confession and Holy
Communion.

"He wes a stoot, broad-shouldered gentleman o' middle size," said Bell
in one of her reminiscent moods; "when I first knew him he wes gettin'
bent wi' age, and his hair wes snow-white and lang on his shoulders
like. I couldna' ha' been muckle mair ner five or sax year auld when
he took me by the hand and askit me if I'd like to come an' herd his
coos an' leeve wi' his niece at the chapel hoose. That wes in 1847,
sir, ten years aifter Queen Victoria (God rest her!) cam' to the
throne. That's a good bit back, ye ken."

Bell dwelt under the same roof as the priest until she was needed at
home, a few years later. Although chiefly employed during the day in
looking after the two cows that grazed on the hillside about a mile
distant, and driving them out and in, she was sufficiently within doors
to be able to gain much knowledge of the daily life of a simple
Scottish pastor of the old school.

That life, as her reminiscences witness, was one of extreme
homeliness--not to say austerity. The food of the priest was that of
the ordinary peasant class among which he lived. "His denner," said
Bell, "wes juist tatties, taken in their skins; his supper wes brochan
an' sometimes tatties as weel. Some o' the neebors would come an' join
him, whiles, an' share the supper wi' him, as they sat roond the
hearth." (In answer to my query Bell explained that "brochan" was a
kind of soup or gruel, made from oatmeal.)

"My faither an' mither," Bell remarked with some pride, "usit often to
tak' denner wi' the priest o' Sundays. They wes bidin' a good bit awa'
frae the chapel, ye ken, sir, an' they aye likit a talk wi' me aifter
Mass. So Mr. McGillivray wouldna' aloo them to fast till they got
hame, but aye pressit them to stay. For they wouldna' break their fast
till the priest did, ye ken; it had aye been the custom in their young
days, and they keepit it till the