us verdict that they had had a
grand time and that the new minister was beyond praise. The young man
walked up the hill with Flora McNabb in an equal state of satisfaction.
He had the pleasant assurance that his young flock liked him and he
felt sure he was going to be very happy in Glenoro. He wondered
laughingly what his fastidious Helen would say could she have seen him
playing "Blind Man's Buff" with Miss Duffy. He wrote her a very
laughable account of the affair before he retired, and went to bed to
dream that he and she lived in the little manse by the bend in the
river.

So the evening which Duncan Polite had prayed over so fervently came to
an end and, as the young shepherd of the flock slept peacefully in his
comfortable home in the valley, well pleased with himself and the
world, the old Watchman lay awake in his little shanty on the hilltop,
hoping and praying that the young servant of the Master had dropped
some words that would lead Donald and the young people of the Glen into
a higher and nobler life.

V

A PASTORAL VISITATION

No sooner was he settled in Glenoro than the young pastor commenced a
thorough and systematic course of visiting. He found it very slow
work, however, in spite of his activity. Each family of his flock vied
with the other in lavishing upon him its hospitality. He was detained
for nearly a day at each place, and dinners, teas and lunches, so many
and so elaborate, were forced upon him that he was divided between the
fear of giving offence by refusing to partake and the dread of becoming
a chronic dyspeptic.

His earliest visits, he felt, should be paid to the homes of his
elders, so, a few days after the lively evening spent at the
Hamiltons', he took his slim cane and went up over the northern wall of
Glenoro to pay his respects to old Andrew Johnstone. A somewhat
difficult task he knew it would be, for he had already been warned by
Mrs. McNabb that Splinterin' Andra was a dour old man. But he felt no
apprehensions; his sunny smile and his charming manner had often swept
away greater obstacles than this old fellow's crustiness. So he strode
along in high spirits, flicking the tops off the wayside weeds,
whistling a gay operatic air and incidentally wondering whether her
eyes were blue or grey.

When he climbed the northern hill of Glenoro and came out upon the
broad, sun-flooded highlands, he found that the country sloped gently
upwards, rising in great sweep