found that he was quite pleased with the "chapel."

"An' yon mon!" he exclaimed. "Isna' he dressed fine? Wha's yon mon
wi' the fine dress?"

"Yen's the priest," explained Robina. "Father Fleming, he's callit."

"Father Fleming! Father Fleming!" repeated Bildy over and over again,
as though to familiarize himself with the sound of it.

"Aye, aye! He's the boy! He can gab, canna' he? He's the boy to tell
us what to dee!" he continued in his broad Scots.

"It's extraordinary how well he behaves at Mass--or at any rate during
the sermon," said Val when he heard the story. "I wish some others
were as good!"

That reminded me of another anecdote. After one or two Sundays, Bildy
had got familiar with the church, and was inclined to gaze about more
than Robina approved of. She therefore took it upon herself to
instruct him upon the sacred character of the place, and to threaten to
keep him at home if he did not behave better.

"Remember, Bildy," she said as they started next Sunday, "it's the
hoose o' God ye're goin' tee. Ye musna' glower aboot! Juist sit ye
still an' look straicht at Father Fleming a' the time."

After that his manner was irreproachable. But one Sunday, as Penny was
leaving the church after Mass, she caught sight of Bildy furiously
shaking his fist--at her, she thought! So she mentioned the fact