birds and
pottered among the flowers, and then it always ended in the old man
sitting down on a seat at the foot of the lawn, with Skye at his feet,
and looking across the Glen where he had been born and where for nearly
half a century he had ministered. Kate caught him once in this
attitude, and was so successful in her sketch that some have preferred
it to the picture in oils that was presented to the Doctor by the
Presbytery of Muirtown, and was painted by an R. A. who spent a
fortnight at the manse and departed with some marvellous heads, still
to be identified in certain councillors and nobles of the past. Both
are hanging in the same house now, far from Drumtochty, and there they
call one "Public Capaucity" and the other "Private Capaucity," and you
require to have seen both to know our kindly, much-loved Moderate.

[Illustration: "Private Capaucity."]

As John grew old with his master and mellowed, he would make believe to
work close by, so that at times they might drop into talk, recalling
names that had died out of the Glen, shrewd sayings that fell from lips
now turned to dust, curious customs that had ceased forever, all in
great charity. Then there would come a pause, and John would say, "Ay,
ay," and go away to the bees. Under the influence of such
reminiscences John used to become depressed, and gently prepare Rebecca
for the changes that were not far off, when Drumtochty would have a new
minister and a new beadle.

"The Doctor's failin', Becca, an' it's no tae be expeckit that a 'll be
lang aifter him; it wudna be fittin', an' a 'm no wantin' 't. Aifter
ye 've carried the bukes afore ae minister for five and thirty year,
ye're no anxious for a change; naebody 'll ever come doon the kirkyaird
like the Doctor, an' a' cudna brak ma step; na, na, there's no mony
things a' michtna learn, but a' cudna brak ma step."

Rebecca went on with her dinner in silence; even capable men had
weaknesses somewhere, and she was accustomed to those moralisings.

"A 'm the auldest beadle in the Presbytery o' Muirtown--though a' say
it as sudna--an' the higher the place the mair we 'll hae tae answer
for, Becca. Nae man can hold the poseetion a 'm in withoot anxieties.
Noo there wes the 'Eruption' in '43"--it could not be ignorance which
made John cling to this word, and so we supposed that the word was
adopted in the spirit of historical irony--"that wes a crisis. Did a'
ever tell ye, Rebecca, that there wes juist