t
his friend was taking the advice of his wife. The words of old
Fleming's ballad of evil wives came into his mind:--

"An evil wyfe is the werst aught
That ony man can haif,
For he may never sit in saught
Onless he be her sklaif."

As he muttered the last words, forgetful of his own case, his friend
entered.

"My wife's brither," said he, "has a bill in your corporation's box
for L250. You can impledge that in my hands, and I'll sign yer
father-in-law's security."

"The corporation's property's no mine," answered the deacon; "I hae,
besides, nae power owre't; the bill's i' the box, and Mr Andrew Todd
has the key."

"I ken that," replied the other (who was a dishonest man), with a
knowing wink; "but ye can easily get haud o' the paper, and I'll gie
ye a back letter that I winna use't unless I'm obliged to pay yer
father-in-law's debt. Naebody will ever hear o't."

The proposition did not altogether please the deacon, who, though very
far from being an upright man, did not care about his frailty being
known to another. He said he would think of what had passed between
them, and came away. His wife, when he came home, was waiting in the
greatest anxiety. Her father had called in the meantime, and told her,
that, if he did not get the bill immediately, with two good names upon
it, he would be put in jail. This alarmed his daughter, who, if she
could save her father, cared little for the ruin of her husband. She
heard with deep anguish the announcement of another disappointment.
Having been weeping before he came in, her eyes were red and swollen,
and the bad intelligence again struck the fountain of her tears, and
made her weep and moan bitterly. The deacon was moved at the picture
of distress. He had not told her William M'Gillavry's proposition, but
only simply that he had refused, unless adequate security were put
into his hands. His wife's grief wrung from him every satisfaction he
could bestow; for he could not stand and witness the sorrow of his
tender and obedient partner, while there remained any chance of
ameliorating her anguish.

"There is ae way, Peggy, o' gettin this affair managed," said he, at
last.

"What is that?" said she, looking up, and throwing back her curls,
which, amidst all her grief, were never forgot.

"William M'Gillavry's wife's brother," said he, "is awin our
corporation L250; and his bill for that sum is in our corporation box.
He says he would sign the bill