“It’s sitting to snaw,” Waster Lunny said, drawing near, and just as I was to reply, “It is so,” Silva slipped in the words before me.

“You wasna at the kirk,” was Elspeth’s salutation.  I had been at the glen church, but did not contradict her, for it is Established, and so neither here nor there.  I was anxious, too, to know what their long faces meant, and therefore asked at once,—­“Was Mr. Dishart on the riot?”

“Forenoon, ay; afternoon, no,” replied Waster Lunny, walking round his wife to get nearer me.  “Dominie, a queery thing happened in the kirk this day, sic as—­”

“Waster Lunny,” interrupted Elspeth sharply, “have you on your Sabbath shoon or have you no on your Sabbath shoon?”

“Guid care you took I should ha’e the dagont oncanny things on,” retorted the farmer.

“Keep out o’ the gutter, then,” said Elspeth, “on the Lord’s day.”

“Him,” said her man, “that is forced by a foolish woman to wear genteel ’lastic-sided boots canna forget them until he takes them aff.  Whaur’s the extra reverence in wearing shoon twa sizes ower sma’?”

“It mayna be mair reverent,” suggested Birse, to whom Elspeth’s kitchen was a pleasant place, “but it’s grand, and you canna expect to be baith grand and comfortable.”

I reminded them that they were speaking of Mr. Dishart.

“We was saying,” began the post briskly, “that—­”

“It was me that was saying it,” said Waster Lunny.  “So, Dominie—­”

“Haud your gabs, baith o’ you,” interrupted Elspeth.  “You’ve been roaring the story to one another till you’re hoarse.”

“In the forenoon,” Waster Lunny went on determinedly, “Mr. Dishart preached on the riot, and fine he was.  Oh, dominie, you should hae heard him ladling it on to Lang Tammas, no by name, but in sic a way that there was no mistaking wha he was preaching at.  Sal! oh, losh!  Tammas got it strong.”

“But he’s dull in the uptake,” broke in the post, “by what I expected.  I spoke to him after the sermon, and I says, just to see if he was properly humbled:—­’Ay, Tammas,’ I says, ’them that discourse was preached against winna think themselves seven-feet men for a while again.’  ‘Ay, Birse,’ he answers, ’and glad I am to hear you admit it, for he had you in his eye.’  I was fair scunnered at Tammas the day.”

“Mr. Dishart was preaching at the whole clan-jamfray o’ you,” said Elspeth.

“Maybe he was,” said her husband, leering; “but you needna cast it at us, for my certie, if the men got it frae him in the forenoon, the women got it in the afternoon.”

“He redd them up most michty,” said the post.  “Thae was his very words or something like them:—­’Adam,’ says he, ’was an erring man, but aside Eve he was respectable.’”

“Ay, but it wasna a’ women he meant,” Elspeth explained, “for when he said that, he pointed his finger direct at T’nowhead’s lassie, and I hope it’ll do her good.”