unnecessarily severe in these days; still, there is no doubt he managed
by them to keep his people well in hand.

"I canna' mind muckle aboot Mr. McGillivray's discoorses," she
answered, when I questioned her on that subject. "I wes but a bit
lassie, an' I couldna' onderstand weel. He seemed to me to stan' an'
drone awa' mostly. Whiles, he wud gi' great scoldin's, an' then I usit
to think it wes splendid! He could be eloquent then, I assure ye, sir!
I mind weel when there wes a marriage in Advent in a Protestant family,
an' Mr. McGillivray warned the fowk that they mightna' attend it; some
o' them, in spite o' that, went to the marriage, an' I could niver
forget the awfu' way he chided them in the chapel on the Sunday aifter!
It wes tarrible!

"If ony o' the fowk cam' to the chapel in their working clothes he
would be greatly pit aboot. He would ca' them up to the rail at
catechism time an' reprove them before a' the congregation."

"So you said your catechism in public!" I asked.

"There wes aye catechism, atween the Mass an' the preachin'. Aebody
had to be prepared to be callit up till they wes marrit, at least!
Even aifter that, a body couldna' be sure o' bein' left alane! I mind
him callin' a mon o' saxty years o' age ane Sunday! He wes a mon
greatly thought of by the congregation, an' maybe the priest wes
afeared he wes gettin' prood. Onyways, Mr. McGillivray had him at the
rails wi' the bairns. 'Are you ashamed,' he says, 'to learn your
Christian Doctrine?' 'Na, na, sir,' says he. 'Then gae back an' sit
ye doon,' says the priest."