whisker; gray locks strayed from an old red handkerchief tied round the
brows under a dilapidated wide-awake hat. To add to his woe-begone
aspect, the poor wretch was streaming with wet, for a Scottish mist had
been steadily falling all the morning.

Leaning on his stick, the man slowly shuffled up the central path
toward the porch in which I was sitting, striving to get the nearest
possible approach to an open-air pipe. Touching his sorry headgear, he
looked at me with mild eyes of faded blue, and smiled benignly as he
asked:

"Could I see himsel'?"

I had not long come to that part of the country, and I was not
thoroughly conversant with the terminology of the people, but it
flashed upon me what he meant.

"Did you wish to see the priest?" I rejoined.

"Aye," replied the old vagrant--for so I deemed him. The smile seemed
stereotyped, for it never faded. His face, when one regarded it
attentively, had a quite attractive pleasantness.

"I'm sorry to say he's out just now," I said. "But you may go round to
the back and get something to eat, if you wish."

It struck me as strange that he did not ask for money, but thanked me
profusely and politely, as he touched his wretched hat once more and
shuffled off toward the kitchen quarters.