of Glenoro church.

Duncan scarcely felt equal to shouldering any more burdens that day,
for only the morning before Donald had left for college. The old man
had sent him away with high hopes for his future; but he missed his boy
more than he could tell. For Donald had been as his own son ever since
the Neil boys had been left fatherless. "The Neil boys" they were
always called, for their father, as well as their mother, had been a
McDonald and, of necessity, his sons used his first name only. Neil
McDonald had died when Archie was an infant, and had left Donald at the
head of the family, a circumstance which might have proved disastrous
to both Donald and the family had it not been for Duncan Polite. For
in his boyhood Donald had bade fair to inherit his father's fame, and
in the good old fighting days when men used their axes in argument,
Neil More was the fiercest warrior between the two lakes. But as
manhood approached, discretion had tempered young Donald's valour; he
had grown up under the gentle but potent influence of his uncle and had
developed a character of which Duncan Polite was justly proud.

But now Donald was gone; and Duncan was sitting thinking sadly of his
loss and of this coming trouble, when a sturdy, square figure came down
the darkening road.

"Come away in, Andra," said Duncan Polite rising, while Collie bowed
his respectful welcome, "come away in, for you will be finding it cool
on the step, whatever."

But Andrew preferred to sit out of doors.

Duncan divined at once from his manner that he was in a very bad frame
of mind, and so attempted to lead the conversation into a safe channel.
"I hear we will be having a fine young man next Sabbath," he commenced
hopefully, "Mr. Murray. I would be hearing Mr. Cameron speak of him
often."

Andrew Johnstone grunted.

"Aye, mebby," he remarked sourly. "Whatever he's like he'll suit the
young folk anyway, for he'll be new, an' that's a' they want. Man,
Duncan, the youth o' this day are jist fair daft! The Athenians were
naething to them, for their one desire is to possess some new thing.
They've got a new church, an' they're goin' to hae a new meenister, an'
they're wantin' them new bit tinklin' hymns; aye, an' they're wantin'
new elders, Ah'm sure o' that. When you an' me an' a few more o' the
auld buddies slip awa, they'll jist be gettin' a new God an' then Ah
houp they'll be setisfied!"

"Och, och, Andra," said Duncan Polite soothing