young
man did not notice the ominous sign and hastened on to his doom.

"I believe your Sabbath school to be a most exemplary one, Mr.
Johnstone, but I hope you do not mind my saying that I believe the
children should take a more active part in the exercises. They should
feel it is theirs. A few good rousing hymns, now, in which they are
interested, and--" he hesitated a moment, and then remembering how
often the young people had begged him to open the subject of a musical
instrument to Splinterin' Andra, and feeling that he was doing well,
and now was his opportunity, continued--"and perhaps the use of an
organ to help the music would aid greatly and add brightness and
interest to the school."

The red rag had been shaken in the bull's face! Shaken very politely
and gently it is true, but a maddening challenge nevertheless. Had the
minister only left out the organ the presence of Duncan Polite might
have restrained his friend from violence, but an organ stood for
everything that was frivolous and worldly. And now that this man who
had been the Joshua of his hopes, who was to lead the young people into
the promised land of righteousness after their old leader had gone up
to his rest, now that he had come out avowedly the promoter of
instability and the apostle of fashion, it was too much for Splinterin'
Andra. He had loved and revered the young man so long, in spite of his
many failures, that his resentment was now in proportion to his former
confidence.

Peter McNabb saw the danger, and burst in with a not altogether
irrelevant remark about there being thunder in the air; but he was too
late; already Splinterin' Andra's stick had darted from its place like
a sword from its scabbard.

"Man!" he exclaimed, turning a face of righteous wrath upon the
well-meaning young clergyman, "man! It's ma' opeenion, that wi' an
instrument o' wund in the pulpit, we're no in great need o' anither in
the congregation!" and sweeping a clattering shower of stones down the
hill, he tramped away ahead, leaving consternation and dismay in his
wake.

Duncan Polite walked by his friend's side in silence. He sympathised
deeply with Andrew's feelings, but this new disaster was like to break
the old man's heart. But Andrew Johnstone was not done.

"An organ!" He repeated the words with all the bitterness of his
disappointed soul. "An organ! The Lord peety the kirk that has a fule
for a meenister!"

"Oh, you must not be sayin