rth. Forty years
ago it was an accepted superstition in Thrums that the ghosts of
children who had died before they were baptized went wailing and
wringing their hands round the kirkyard at nights, and that they would
continue to do this until the crack of doom. When the Auld Licht
children grew up, too, they crowed over those of their fellows whose
christening had been deferred until a comparatively late date, and the
mothers who had needlessly missed a Sabbath for long afterwards hung
their heads. That was a good and creditable birth which took place
early in the week, thus allowing time for suitable christening
preparations; while to be born on a Friday or a Saturday was to
humiliate your parents, besides being an extremely ominous beginning
for yourself. Without seeking to vindicate Bell Dundas's behaviour, I
may note, as an act of ordinary fairness, that being the leading
elder's wife, she was sorely tempted. Eppie made her appearance at
9.45 on a Saturday night.

In the hurry and scurry that ensued, Sandy escaped sadly to the square.
His infant would be baptized eight days old, one of the
longest-deferred christenings of the year. Sandy was shivering under
the clock when I met him accidentally, and took him home. But by that
time the harm had been done. Several of the congregation had been
roused from their beds to hear his lamentations, of whom the men
sympathized with him, while the wives triumphed austerely over Bell
Dundas. As I wrung poor Sandy's hand, I hardly noticed that a bright
light showed distinctly between the shutters of his kitchen-window; but
the elder himself turned pale and breathed quickly. It was then
fourteen minutes past twelve.

My heart sank within me on the following forenoon, when Sandy Whamond
walked, with a queer twitching face, into the front pew under a glare
of eyes from the body of the kirk and the laft. An amazed buzz went
round the church, followed by a pursing up of lips and hurried
whisperings. Evidently Sandy had been driven to it against his own
judgment. The scene is still vivid before me: the minister suspecting
no guile, and omitting the admonitory stage out of compliment to the
elder's standing; Sandy's ghastly face; the proud godmother (aged
twelve) with the squalling baby in her arms; the horror of the
congregation to a man and woman. A slate fell from Sandy's house even
as he held up the babe to the minister to receive a "droukin'" of
water, and Eppie c