e
mind, lads, hoo they gied back an' forward in his head--oscillatin'
like? Sall, they were fearsome."

"An' the rush to get in afore the last stroke o' nine"--the third man
cannot be restrained--"an' the crack o' his cane on the desk an'
'Silence'; man, ye micht hae heard a moose cross the floor at the
prayer."

"Div ye think he keekit oot atween his eyelids, Jock?"

"Him? nae fear o't," and Howieson is full of contempt. "Ae day I pit a
peen into that smooth-faced wratch Dowbiggin, juist because I cudna
bear the look o' him; an' if he didna squeal like a stuck pig. Did
Bulldog open his een an' look?"

The audience has no remembrance of such a humiliating descent.

"Na, na," resumes Jock, "he didna need; he juist repeated the first
sentence o' the prayer ower again in an awfu' voice, an' aifter it wes
dune, doon he comes to me. 'Whatna prank wes that?'"

"Wes't nippy?" inquires Bauldie with relish, anticipating the sequel.

"Michty," replies Jock; "an' next he taks Dowbiggin. 'Who asked you to
join in the prayer?' an' ye cud hae heard his yowls on the street.
Bulldog hed a fine stroke." And the three smoked in silent admiration
for a space.

"Sandie, div ye mind the sins in the prayer? 'Lord deliver the laddies
before Thee from lying----'"

"'Cheating,'" breaks in Bauldie.

"'Cowardice,'" adds Sandie.

"'And laziness, which are as the devil,'" completes Jock.

"An' the laist petition, a' likit it fine, 'Be pleased to put common
sense in their heads, and Thy fear in their hearts, and----'"

"'Give them grace to be honest men all the days of their life,'" chant
the other two together.

"It wes a purpose-like prayer, an' a' never heard a better, lads; he
walkit up to his words, did Bulldog, an' he did his wark well." And as
they thought of that iron age, the railway president and the big banker
and the corn merchant--for that is what the fellows have come to--smack
their lips with relish and kindly regret.

It may be disappointing, but it remains a fact, that the human history
of the ages is repeated in the individual, and the natural boy is a
savage, with the aboriginal love of sport, hardy indifference to
circumstances, stoical concealment of feelings, irrepressible passion
for fighting, unfeigned admiration for strength, and slavish respect for
the strong man. By-and-by he will be civilised and Christianised, and
settle down, will become considerate, merciful, peaceable--will be
concerned about his o