where the minister was fidgeting beside his possessions.

"No, no," said Saunderson, when the situation was put before him, "it's
all here. I counted the boxes, and I packed every box myself. That top
one contains the fathers--deal gently with it; and the Reformation
divines are just below it. Books are easily injured, and they feel it.
I do believe there is a certain life in them, and . . . and . . . they
don't like being ill-used"; and Jeremiah looked wistfully at the
ploughmen.

"Div ye mean tae say," as soon as Mains had recovered, "that ye've brocht
naethin' for the manse but bukes, naither bed nor bedding? Keep's a',"
as the situation grew upon him, "whar are ye tae sleep, and what are ye
tae sit on? An' div ye never eat? This croons a';" and Mains gazed at
his new minister as one who supposed that he had taken Jeremiah's measure
and had failed utterly.

"_Mea culpa_--it's . . . my blame," and Saunderson was evidently humbled
at this public exposure of his incapacity; "some slight furnishing will
be expedient, even necessary, and I have a plan for book-shelves in my
head; it is ingenious and convenient, and if there is a worker in
wood . . ."

"Come awa' tae the dog-cart, sir," said Mains, realizing that even
Kilbogie did not know what a singular gift they had obtained, and that
discussion on such sublunary matters as pots and pans was useless, not to
say profane. So eight carts got a box each; one, Jeremiah's ancient kist
of moderate dimensions; and the tenth--that none might be left
unrecognised--a hand-bag that had been on the twelve years' probation
with its master. The story grew as it passed westwards, and when it