"Tat wass a fery coot sairmon today, Malcolm," he said, as they
stepped from the churchyard upon the road.

Malcolm, knowing well whither conversation on the subject would
lead, made no reply. His grandfather, finding him silent, iterated
his remark, with the addition--"Put how could it pe a paad one,
you'll pe thinking, my poy, when he'd pe hafing such a text to keep
him straight."

Malcolm continued silent, for a good many people were within hearing,
whom he did not wish to see amused with the remarks certain to follow
any he could make. But Mr Graham, who happened to be walking near
the old man on the other side, out of pure politeness made a partial
response.

"Yes, Mr MacPhail," he said, "it was a grand text."

"Yes, and it wass'll pe a cran' sairmon," persisted Duncan.
"'Fenchence is mine--I will repay.' Ta Lord loves fenchence.
It's a fine thing, fenchence. To make ta wicked know tat tey'll pe
peing put men! Yes; ta Lord will slay ta wicked. Ta Lord will gif
ta honest man fenchence upon his enemies. It wass a cran' sairmon!"

"Don't you think vengeance a very dreadful thing, Mr MacPhail?"
said the schoolmaster.

"Yes, for ta von tat'll pe in ta wrong--I wish ta fenchence was
mine!" he added with a loud sigh.

"But the Lord doesn't think any of us fit to be trusted with it,