r's nae improvement to whusky," he slowly averred at length,
"forbye, I was richt. I was richt frae a medeecinal standpoint, ye ken.
The verra next day ma doctor ordered me to tak a little whusky for the
pain I tell't ye o'. An' I did; I took it afore he tell't me."

"And it did you good, Archie?" I asked indulgently.

"Guid?" replied Archie, in a tone of much reproach. Then he said no
more, scorning to demonstrate an axiom. But he was not through with the
subject. The moral had still to be pointed.

"Is't no won'erfu', minister, the law o' compensation that oor Creator
gies us, to reach a' through oor lives?

"Pain has its ither side, ye ken. An' when we say as hoo it's an ill
wind that blaws naebody guid, we're acknowledgin' the love o' the
Almichty. Ilka cloud has aye its siller linin'. Noo, for instance, it
was a fearfu' pain I took--but the ither that I took to cure it--it was
Scotch," and Archie drew a gentle sigh, half of piety and half of
reminiscence.

* * * * *

When next I turned my steps towards Archie's door, though only two short
days had fled, all life had changed to me and darkness hung about me
like a pall. Upon which change I was bitterly reflecting when I was
interrupted by a message that Archie was taken somewhat worse and not
expected to live longer than through the night. And I could not but be
glad of this summons from my own life's tragedy, that I might share
another's. It is God's blessed way. The balm for secret sorrow is in the
bosom of another burden, unselfishly assumed; and the Cyrenian of every
age hath this for his hire, that, while he bends beneath another's
cross, he is disburdened of his own.

I found my old precentor weak, and failing fast, but "verra composed,"
as we say in New Jedboro.

He welcomed me with a gentle smile.

"Ye'll pray wi' me," he said gravely, "but it'll no' be the closin'
prayer. I'm wearin' awa fast, but I'll no' leave ye till the morn, I'm
dootin'. Pit up a bit prayer noo--but there's ae thing--dinna mind the
Maister o' His promise to come again an' receive me till Himsel'--no'
that it isna a gowden word; but I want it keepit till the last an' it's
the last word I want to hear. Speak it to me when I hear the surge.
That'll gie Him time eneuch, for He'll no' be far awa. An' I want to
hear it aboon the billows. Noo pit up yir prayer."

Short and simple were our petitions; for the prayer of little children
is best for those