Hughie gazed indignantly over the golden mill-pond and hummed
"The March o' the Cameron Men."

"Well, sir, that McIntyre man has a hard row to hoe," said Jake Sawyer,
wisely steering away from the dangerous topic. "It's a caution now,
ain't it, how some folks seems to have everything they want in this
world, an' others gets all the things nobody wants?"

"Man, did you ever think what a queer, botched-up world we live in,
anyhow?" inquired William Winters, who, whenever he found himself
beyond the influence of his well-managed home, was always in a
rebellious state. "The minister, now, 'ud like to make ye believe
everything's ordered for our good, but it don't look that way to me.
Gosh! Sometimes, when I'm patchin' up somethin' at the shop, I think I
could take my hammer an' bang things up into better shape myself than
the Almighty's done."

"Lord love ye, William!" cried Silas Long in alarm. "Take care wot
ye're sayin'!"

"Well, when I was at Neeag'ra Falls," persisted the blacksmith, "there
was a man preachin' there on the streets that said he didn't believe
there was any God at all----"

'"Ere, William," interrupted the astronomer, shoving his telescope into
Winters' hand, as one would give a new toy to a complaining child, "you
take a squint through this 'ere spyglass, an' if you ain't convinced in
five minutes that there is a God, well, sir, you can smash it, that's
all."

Sandy McQuarry regarded the blacksmith sternly. For sufficient reasons
of his own, he never entered the Elmbrook church, but for all that he
was as strict in religious matters as he was at gaining a penny in a
bargain.

"Ye've no right to creeticize the Almighty yon way, Weeliam," he
admonished. "If He wishes to make one vessel to honor, and another,
such as this MacIntyre, to dishonor, it is the Lord's wull, an' we maun
jist abide by it."

The blacksmith, one eye inside the telescope, paid no attention.

"That's so," agreed Spectacle John, with suspicious cordiality,
"especially as He's made an occasional vessel jist to hold money."

"That's better than bein' a bag to hold wund, like some folks you
admire, John," said Sandy McQuarry with deep meaning.

"Lookee 'ere, Sandy," said Silas Long solemnly, "criticizin' the
minister is next thing to criticizin' the Almighty. You'd better take
a warnin'." His voice dropped to a whisper. "It ain't safe, Sandy,
now, that's wot it ain't."

Sandy McQuarry grunted scornfully. "Ony ma