States."

Mr. Basketful was coming out with the mall-bag.

"It's true, every word of it, Coonie," he said, his wrath having
vanished. "That's the way with them Presbyterians; they're that stiff
they can't 'elp 'avin' trouble."

Coonie scrambled into his buckboard, feeling doubly crippled in the
galling restriction that had been put upon his unruly member. He drove
off without a word, not even stopping at Mrs. Fraser's gate at the top
of the hill. Syl Todd sat upon the veranda of the store, watching
until his old buckboard sank behind the south hill, wondering if he
were ill.

Duncan had never before tried to exercise a restraining influence upon
Coonie's tongue, though as he watched his old buckboard straying down
into the valley, crossing and recrossing the road, to allow its owner
to joke and gossip with this one and that, the Watchman often thought
what a power for good Coonie might be in Glenoro if only his heart were
touched by the grace of God. His first attempt at stemming the tide of
the mail-carrier's gossip met with wonderful success, however. People
discovered that for some inexplicable reason, Coonie seemed to have no
interest whatever in Splinterin' Andra's behaviour over the proposal of
an organ, and with the chief stoker idle, the fire of gossip soon died
for want of fuel. The young people postponed their project
indefinitely, and gradually the affair dropped out of the public
interest, making way for a much more important matter.

IV

THE SECOND JOHN McALPINE

Donald's first year at college passed uneventfully. He returned the
next spring to his work on the farm, covered with honours, full of
tales of his studies or his freshman adventures, but never a word of
his final destiny, though Duncan Polite anxiously awaited it. He was
in some trouble about Donald. He had set up a high standard for his
boy and was pained and surprised when he failed to attain it. If only
Mr. Cameron were living, he often reflected with a sigh, he would soon
set Donald's feet in the right path. The lack of a pastor was a great
grief to Duncan Polite. What would happen to his covenant if the flock
were left so long shepherdless?

And then into the midst of his doubts and fears, his anxiety for the
future and his regrets for the past, there came such a rich and
abounding blessing, such an abundant answer to all his prayers, that
for a season the Watchman was overwhelmed with contrite joy. For,
after ne