be, in a manner not altogether unlike that by which it came."

In contemplative moods, the schoolmaster spoke in a calm and
loftily sustained style of book English--quite another language
from that he used when he sought to rouse the consciences of his
pupils, and strangely contrasted with that in which Malcolm kept
up his side of the dialogue.

"I houp, sir," said the latter, "it'll be nae sort o' a celestial
Mistress Catanach 'at 'll be waiting for me o' the ither side; nor
yet for my puir daddy, wha cud ill bide bein' wamled aboot upo'
her knee."

Mr Graham laughed outright.

"If there be one to act the nurse," he answered, "I presume there
will be one to take the mother's part too."

"But speakin' o' the grave, sir," pursued Malcolm, "I wiss ye cud
drop a word 'at micht be o' some comfort to my daddy. It's plain to
me, frae words he lats fa' noo an' than, that, instead o' lea'in'
the warl' ahint him whan he dees, he thinks to lie smorin' an'
smocherin' i' the mools, clammy an' weet, but a' there, an' trimlin'
at the thocht o' the suddent awfu' roar an' din o' the brazen
trumpet o' the archangel. I wiss ye wad luik in an' say something
till him some nicht. It's nae guid mentionin' 't to the minister;
he wad only gie a lauch an' gang awa'. An' gien ye cud jist slide
in a word aboot forgiein' his enemies, sir! I made licht o' the
maitter to Mistress Courthope, 'cause she only maks him waur. She
does weel wi' what the minister pits intill her, but she has little