neither swinging his arms as he would have done on an ordinary day.
Saunders had come all the way over Dee Water to follow the far-noted man
of God to his rest.

"There's no siccan men noo as the Andersons o' Deeside," said Rob Adair,
with a kind of pride and pleasure in his voice. "I'm a dale aulder than
you, Saunders, an' I mind weel o' the faither o' him that's gane." (Rob
had in full measure the curious South-country disinclination to speak
directly of the dead.)

"Ay, an angry man he was that day in the '43 when him that's a cauld
corp the day, left the kirk an' manse that his faither had pitten him
intil only the year afore. For, of coorse, the lairds o' Deeside were
the pawtrons o' the pairish; an' when the auld laird's yae son took it
intil his head to be a minister, it was in the nature o' things that he
should get the pairish.

"Weel, the laird didna speak to his son for the better part o' twa year;
though mony a time he drave by to the Pairish Kirk when his son was
haudin' an ootdoor service at the Auld Wa's where the three roads meet.
For nae _sicht_ could they get on a' Deeside for kirk or manse, because
frae the Dullarg to Craig Ronald a' belanged to the laird. The minister
sent the wife an' bairns to a sma' hoose in Cairn Edward, an' lodged
himsel' amang sic o' the farmers as werena feared for his faither's
factor. Na, an' speak to his son the auld man wadna, for the very
dourness o' him. Ay, even though the minister wad say to his faither,
'Faither, wull ye no' speak to yer ain son?' no' ae word wad he answer,
but pass him as though he hadna seen him, as muckle as to say--'Nae son
o' mine!'