want to (h)announce a special, a very
special meetin' of the Union this (h)afternoon."

"A releegious meetin', Mr. Wigglesworth?" enquired Mrs. McNish.

"Well--not exactly--that is--I don't know but you might call it a
religious meetin'. To my mind, Mrs. McNish, you know--"

But Mrs. McNish would have no sophistry.

"Mr. Wigglesworth," she began sternly.

But Malcolm cut in.

"Now, Mother, I suppose it's a regular enough meeting. Just wait till I
get my hat, Mr. Wigglesworth. I'll be with you."

His mother followed him into the house, leaving Mr. Wigglesworth at the
door.

"Malcolm," she began with solemn emphasis.

"Now, now, Mother, surely you know me well enough by this time to trust
my judgment in a matter of this kind," said her son, hurriedly searching
for his hat.

"Ay, but A'm no sae sure o' yon buddie--"

"Hoot, toot," said her son, passing out. "A'll be back in abundant time
for the Kirk, Mither. Never you fear."

"Weel, weel, laddie, remember what day it is. Ye ken weel it's no day
for warldly amusement."

"Ay, Mither," replied her son, smiling a little at the associating of
Mr. Wigglesworth with amusement of any sort on any day.

In abundance of time Malcolm was ready to allow a quiet, unhurried walk
with his mother which would bring them to the church a full quarter of
an hour before the hour of service.

It happened that the Rev. Murdo was on a congenial theme and in
specially good form that morning.

"How much better is a man than a sheep," was his text, from which with
great ingenuity and eloquence he proceeded to develop the theme of the
supreme value of the human factor in modern life, social and industrial.
With great cogency he pressed the argument against the inhuman and
degrading view that would make man a mere factor in the complex problem
of Industrial Finance, a mere inanimate cog in the Industrial Machine.

"What did you think of the sermon, Mother?" asked Malcolm as they
entered the quiet lane leading home.

"No sae bad, laddie, no sae bad. Yon's an able laddie, especially on
practical themes. Ay, it was no that bad," replied his mother with
cautious approval.

"What about his view of the Sabbath?"

"What about it? Wad ye no lift a sheep oot o' the muck on the Sawbath?"

"A would, of course," replied Malcolm.

"Weel, what?"

"A was jist thinkin' o' Mr. Wigglesworth this morning."

"Yon man!"

"You were rather hard on him this morning', eh, Mither?"

"Hard on