last slope of a grassy hill, where many huge stones rose out of the
grass. A few yards beneath was a country road, and on the other
side of the road a small stream, in which the brook that ran swiftly
past, almost within reach of his hand, eagerly lost itself. On the
further bank of the stream, perfuming the air, grew many bushes of
meadow-sweet, or queen-of-the-meadow, as it is called in Scotland;
and beyond lay a lovely stretch of nearly level pasture. Farther
eastward all was a plain, full of farms. Behind him rose the hill,
shutting out his past; before him lay the plain, open to his eyes
and feet. God had walled up his past, and was disclosing his
future.

When he had eaten his dinner, its dryness forgotten in the condiment
his book supplied, he rose, and taking his cap from his head, filled
it from the stream, and drank heartily; then emptied it, shook the
last drops from it, and put it again upon his head.

"Ho, ho, young man!" cried a voice.

Donal looked, and saw a man in the garb of a clergyman regarding him
from the road, and wiping his face with his sleeve.

"You should mind," he continued, "how you scatter your favours."

"I beg your pardon, sir," said Donal, taking off his cap again; "I
hadna a notion there was leevin' cratur near me."

"It's a fine day!" said the minister.

"It is that, sir!" answered Donal.