As the spring advanced, the beauty of the country around Garnock was

gradually unfolded; the blossom was unclosed, while the church was

embraced within the foliage of more umbrageous boughs. The schoolboys

from the adjacent villages were, on the Saturday afternoons, frequently

seen angling along the banks of the Lugton, which ran clearer beneath the

churchyard wall, and the hedge of the minister's glebe; and the evenings

were so much lengthened, that the occasional visitors at the manse could

prolong their walk after tea. These, however, were less numerous than

when the family were at home; but still Mr. Snodgrass, when the weather

was fine, had no reason to deplore the loneliness of his bachelor's

court.

It happened that, one fair and sunny afternoon, Miss Mally Glencairn and

Miss Isabella Tod came to the manse. Mrs. Glibbans and her daughter

Becky were the same day paying their first ceremonious visit, as the

matron called it, to Mr. and Mrs. Craig, with whom the whole party were

invited to take tea; and, for lack of more amusing chit-chat, the

Reverend young gentleman read to them the last letter which he had

received from Mr. Andrew Pringle. It was conjured naturally enough out

of his pocket, by an observation of Miss Mally's "Nothing surprises me,"

said that amiable maiden lady, "so much as the health and good-humour of

the commonality. It is a joyous refutation of the opinion, that the

comfort and happiness of this life depends on the wealth of worldly

possessions."

"It is so," replied Mr. Snodgrass, "and I do often wonder, when I see the

blithe and hearty children of the cottars, frolicking in the abundance of

health and hilarity, where the means come from to enable their poor

industrious parents to supply their wants."

"How can you wonder at ony sic things, Mr. Snodgrass? Do they not come

from on high," said Mrs. Glibbans, "whence cometh every good and perfect

gift? Is there not the flowers of the field, which neither card nor

spin, and yet Solomon, in all his glory, was not arrayed like one of

these?"

"I was not speaking in a spiritual sense," interrupted the other, "but

merely made the remark, as introductory to a letter which I have received

from Mr. Andrew Pringle, respecting some of the ways of living in

London."

Mrs. Craig, who had been so recently translated from the kitchen to the

parlour, pricked up her ears at this, not doubting that the letter would

contain something very grand and wonderful, and exclaimed, "Gude safe's,

let's hear't--I'm unco fond to ken about London, and the king and the

queen; but I believe they are baith dead noo."




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