puir lassie a message frae the gude
Lord--`Yet return again to Me'--and she just took it as heartily as it
was gi'en, and went and fand rest--puir, straying, lost sheep!--but when
she came to the table o' the Lord, the ninety and nine wad ha'e nane o'
her--she was gude eneuch for Him in the white robe o' His richteousness,
but she was no near gude eneuch for them, sin she had lost her ain--and
not ane soul i' a' the parish wad kneel down aside o' her. Miss Cary, I
ne'er saw the minister's e'en flash out sparks o' fire as they did when
he heard that! And what, think ye, said he?"

"I should like to hear, Sam."

"`Vara gude,' says he. `I beg,' he says, `that none o' ye all will come
to the Table to-morrow. Annie Crosthwaite and I will gang thither our
lane: but there'll be three,' says he, `for the blessed Lord Himsel'
will come and eat wi' us, and we wi' Him, for He receiveth sinners, and
eateth with them.' And he did it, for a' they tald him the Bishop wad
be doun on him. `Let him,' says he, `and he shall hear the haill
story': and not ane o' them a' wad he let come that morn. They were no
worthy, he said."

"And did the Bishop hear of it?"

"Ay, did he, and sent doun a big chiel, like an auld eagle, wi' a' his
feathers ruffled the wrang way. But the minister, he stood his ground:
`There were three, Mr Archdeacon,' says he, as quiet as a mill-tarn,
`and the Lord Himsel' made the third.' `And how am I to ken that?' says
the big chiel, ruffling up his feathers belike. `Will ye be sae gude as
to ask Him?' says the minister. I dinna ken what the big chiel made o'
the tale to the Bishop, but we heard nae mair on't. Maybe he did ask
Him, and gat the auld answer,--`Touch not Mine anointed, and do My
prophet no harm.'"

"Still, rules ought to be kept, Sam."

"Rules ought to be kept in ordinar'. But this was bye-ordinar', ye see.
If a big lad has been tauld no to gang frae the parlour till his
faither comes back, and he sees his little brither drooning in the pond
just afore the window, I reckon his faither 'll no be mickle angered if
he jumps out of the window and saves him. Any way, I wad nae like to
ha'e what he'd get, gin he said,--`Faither, ye bade me tarry in this
chalmer, and sae I could nae do a hand's turn for Willie.' Rules are
man's, Miss Cary, but truth and souls belang to God."

My Aunt Kezia and Sophy had come in while Sam was talking, and Father
and Hatty followed now, so we sat down to brea