"An' what office may ye haud yersel', sir, i' the ministry o' the
temple?"

"I think I un'erstan' ye," replied Donal; "my mother says curious
things like you."

"Curious things is whiles no that curious," remarked Andrew.

A pause following, he resumed:

"Gien onything gie ye reason to prefar waitin' till ye ken Doory an'
me a bit better, sir," he said, "coont my ill-mainnert queston no
speirt."

"There's naething," answered Donal. "I'll tell ye onything or
a'thing aboot mysel'."

"Tell what ye wull, sir, an' keep what ye wull," said the cobbler.

"I was broucht up a herd-laddie," proceeded Donal, "an' whiles a
shepherd ane. For mony a year I kent mair aboot the hill-side nor
the ingle-neuk. But it's the same God an' Father upo' the hill-side
an' i' the king's pailace."

"An' ye'll ken a' aboot the win', an' the cloods, an' the w'ys o'
God ootside the hoose! I ken something hoo he hauds things gaein'
inside the hoose--in a body's hert, I mean--in mine an' Doory's
there, but I ken little aboot the w'y he gars things work 'at he's
no sae far ben in."