imself to public scorn for lack of a word. What word?
they asked testily, but even now he could not tell. He had wanted a
Scotch word that would signify how many people were in church, and it
was on the tip of his tongue but would come no farther. Puckle was
nearly the word, but it did not mean so many people as he meant. The
hour had gone by just like winking; he had forgotten all about time
while searching his mind for the word.

When Mr. Ogilvy heard this he seemed to be much impressed, repeatedly he
nodded his head as some beat time to music, and he muttered to himself,
"The right word--yes, that's everything," and "'the time went by like
winking'--exactly, precisely," and he would have liked to examine
Tommy's bumps, but did not, nor said a word aloud, for was he not there
in McLauchlan's interest?

The other five were furious; even Mr. Lorrimer, though his man had won,
could not smile in face of such imbecility. "You little tattie doolie,"
Cathro roared, "were there not a dozen words to wile from if you had an
ill-will to puckle? What ailed you at manzy, or--"

"I thought of manzy," replied Tommy, woefully, for he was ashamed of
himself, "but--but a manse's a swarm. It would mean that the folk in the
kirk were buzzing thegither like bees, instead of sitting still."

"Even if it does mean that," said Mr. Duthie, with impatience, "what was
the need of being so particular? Surely the art of essay-writing
consists in using the first word that comes and hurrying on."

"That's how I did," said the proud McLauchlan, who is now leader of a
party in the church, and a figure in Edinburgh during the month of May.

"I see," interposed Mr. Gloag, "that McLauchlan speaks of there being a
mask of people in the church. Mask is a fine Scotch word."

"Admirable," assented Mr. Dishart. "I thought of mask," whimpered Tommy,
"but that would mean the kirk was crammed, and I just meant it to be
middling full."

"Flow would have done," suggested Mr. Lorrimer.

"Flow's but a handful," said Tommy.

"Curran, then, you jackanapes!"

"Curran's no enough."

Mr. Lorrimer flung up his hands in despair.

"I wanted something between curran and mask," said Tommy, dogged, yet
almost at the crying.

Mr. Ogilvy, who had been hiding his admiration with difficulty, spread a
net for him. "You said you wanted a word that meant middling full. Well,
why did you not say middling full--or fell mask?"

"Yes, why not?" demanded the ministers,