s that wearisome a body canna
heed him wi'oot takin' peppermints to the kirk, he's nane the less, at
seeventy-sax, a better mon than the new asseestant. Div ye ken the new
asseestant? He's a wee-bit, finger-fed mannie, ower sma' maist to wear
a goon! I canna thole him, wi' his lang-nebbit words, explainin' an'
expoundin' the gude Book as if it had jist come oot! The auld doctor's
nae kirk-filler, but he gies us fu' meesure, pressed doun an' rinnin'
ower, nae bit-pickin's like the haverin' asseestant; it's my opeenion
he's no soond, wi' his parleyvoos an' his clishmaclavers!... Mr. C?"
(Now comes the shaking and straightening and smoothing of the first
blanket.) "Ay, he's weel eneuch! I mind aince he prayed for oor Free
Assembly, an' then he turned roon' an' prayed for the Estaiblished,
maist in the same breath,--he's a broad, leeberal mon is Mr. C!... Mr.
D? Ay, I ken him fine; he micht be waur, though he's ower fond o' the
kittle pairts o' the Old Testament; but he reads his sermon frae the
paper, an' it's an auld sayin', 'If a meenister canna mind [remember]
his ain discoorse, nae mair can the congregation be expectit to mind
it.'... Mr. E? He's my ain meenister." (She has a pillow in her mouth
now, but though she is shaking it as a terrier would a rat, and drawing
on the linen slip at the same time, she is still intelligible between
the jerks). "Susanna says his sermon is like claith made o' soond 'oo
[wool] wi' a guid twined thread, an' wairpit an' weftit wi' doctrine.
Susanna kens her Bible weel, but she's never gaed forrit." (To 'gang
forrit' is to take the communion). "Dr. F? I ca' him the greetin'
doctor! He's aye dingin' the dust oot o' the poopit cushions, an'
greetin' ower the sins o' the human race, an' eespecially o' his ain
congregation. He's waur sin his last wife sickened an' slippit awa'.
'Twas a chastenin' he'd put up wi' twice afore, but he grat nane the
less. She was a bonnie bit body, was the thurd Mistress F! E'nboro could
'a' better spared the greetin' doctor than her, I'm thinkin'."

"The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away, according to His good will
and pleasure," I ventured piously, as Mrs. M'Collop beat the bolster and
laid it in place.

"Ou ay," responded that good woman, as she spread the counterpane over
the pillows in the way I particularly dislike,--"ou ay, but whiles I
think it's a peety he couldna be guidit!"

Chapter XI. Holyrood awakens.

We were to make our bow to the L