the floor, his forehead on his
hand. Donal did not see his face. He seemed waiting, like his father
for the Book, while his mother got it from the top of the wall. He
stepped over the threshold, and in the simplicity of his heart, said:--

"Ye'll be gaein' to hae worship!"

"Na, na!" returned the man, raising his head, and taking a brief, hard
stare at his visitor; "we dinna set up for prayin' fowk i' this hoose.
We ley that to them 'at kens what they hae to be thankfu' for."

"I made a mistak," said Donal. "I thoucht ye micht hae been gaein' to
say gude mornin' to yer makker, an' wad hae likit to j'in wi' ye; for I
kenna what I haena to be thankfu' for. Guid day to ye."

"Ye can bide an' tak yer parritch gien ye like."

"Ow, na, I thank ye. Ye micht think I cam for the parritch, an' no for
the prayers. I like as ill to be coontit a hypocrite as gien I war
ane."

"Ye can bide an' hae worship wi' 's, gien ye tak the buik yersel'."

"I canna lead whaur 's nane to follow. Na; I'll du better on the muir
my lane."

But the gudewife was a religions woman after her fashion--who can be
after any one else's? She came with a bible in her hand, and silently
laid it on the table. Donal had never yet prayed aloud except in a
murmur by himself on the hill, but, thus invited, could not refuse. He
read a psalm of trouble, breaking into hope at the close, then spoke as
follows:--

"Freens, I'm but yoong, as ye see, an' never afore daured open my moo
i' sic fashion, but it comes to me to speyk, an' wi' yer leave speyk I
wull. I canna help thinkin' the gudeman 's i' some trible--siclike,
maybe, as King Dawvid whan he made the psalm I hae been readin' i' yer
hearin'. Ye observt hoo it began like a stormy mornin', but ye h'ard
hoo it changed or a' was dune. The sun comes oot bonny i' the en', an'
ye hear the birds beginnin' to sing, tellin' Natur' to gie ower her
greitin'. An' what brings the guid man til's senses, div ye think?
What but jist the thoucht o' him 'at made him, him 'at cares aboot him,
him 'at maun come to ill himsel' 'afore he lat onything he made come to
ill. Sir, lat's gang doon upo' oor knees, an' commit the keepin' o'
oor sowls to him as til a faithfu' creator, wha winna miss his pairt
'atween him an' hiz."

They went down on their knees, and Donal said,

"O Lord, oor ain father an' saviour, the day ye hae sent 's has arrived
bonny an' gran', an' we bless ye for sen'in' 't; but eh, oor father,