he congregation, which
belonged to the body who seceded from the Established Church a hundred
and fifty years ago, had split, and as the New Lights (now the U. P.'s)
were in the majority, the Old Lights, with the minister at their head,
had to retire to the commonty (or common) and hold service in the open
air until they had saved up money for a church. They kept possession,
however, of the white manse among the trees. Their kirk has but a
cluster of members now, most of them old and done, but each is equal to
a dozen ordinary church-goers, and there have been men and women among
them on whom the memory loves to linger. For forty years they have
been dying out, but their cold, stiff pews still echo the Psalms of
David, and, the Auld Licht kirk will remain open so long as it has one
member and a minister.

The church stands round the corner from the square, with only a large
door to distinguish it from the other building in the short street.
Children who want to do a brave thing hit this door with their fists,
when there is no one near, and then run away scared. The door,
however, is sacred to the memory of a white-haired old lady who, not so
long ago, used to march out of the kirk and remain on the pavement
until the psalm which had just been given out was sung. Of Thrums's
pavement it may here be said that when you come, even to this day, to a
level slab you feel reluctant to leave it. The old lady was Mistress
(which is Miss) Tibbie McQuhatty, and she nearly split the Auld Licht
kirk over "run line." This conspicuous innovation was introduced by
Mr. Dishart, the minister, when he was young and audacious. The old,
reverent custom in the kirk was for the precentor to read out the psalm
a line at a time. Having then sung that line he read out the next one,
led the singing of it, and so worked his way on to line three. Where
run line holds, however, the psalm is read out first, and forthwith
sung. This is not only a flighty way of doing things, which may lead
to greater scandals, but has its practical disadvantages, for the
precentor always starts singing in advance of the congregation (Auld
Lichts never being able to begin to do anything all at once), and,
increasing the distance with every line, leaves them hopelessly behind
at the finish. Miss McQuhatty protested against this change, as
meeting the devil halfway, but the minister carried his point, and ever
after that she rushed ostentatiously from the chur