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Talking of gomerals, do tell Dauvit Balfour. I would I could see the face of him at the thought of a long-legged lass in such a predicament! to say nothing of the levities of your affectionate daughter, and his respectful friend. So my rascal signs herself!" continued Prestongrange. "And you see, Mr.
"Maister Dauvit Balfour is informed a friend was speiring for him, and her eyes were of the grey," it ran and seemed so extraordinary a piece to come to my hands at such a moment and under cover of a Government seal, that I stood stupid. Catriona's grey eyes shone in my remembrance. I thought, with a bound of pleasure, she must be the friend.
I was about to withdraw, when I heard a familiar voice, above the noise of a phonograph, from one of the rooms just above the bar. It was Geordie's. "Gie us 'Nearer, my God, to Thee," I heard him cry, with drunken unction. "Gin ye haena ane o' the psalms o' Dauvit i' yir kist o' tunes, mak' the creetur play 'Nearer, my God, to Thee."
She shook her head. "I never heard a note of it," said she. "Whistle it all through. And now once again," she added, after I had done so. Isnae this the tune that ye whustled?" "You see," she says, "I can do the poetry too, only it won't rhyme." And then again: "I am Miss Grant, sib to the Advocate: You, I believe, are Dauvit Balfour." I told her how much astonished I was by her genius.
It's not a bad thing a while wi' a lass after the horses are bedded and foddered, but horses first; and as for Joseph" his smile broadened until I could see his teeth "if it had been Dauvit the leddy had met on the stair, the meenisters wid never hiv heard a cheep about it. . . . "It's a fine lesson yon, I aye think, for auld men to be preaching, but deevil a word about their ain youthfu' rants.
Gie them the hymes, an' we'll hear Martyrdom nae mair, an' Coleshill an' Duke Street'll be by. For what did oor faithers dee if it wasna for the psalms o' Dauvit? An' they dee'd to the tunes I've named to ye." "But Mr. M'Cormack will admit," said Mr. Blake, "that many of God's people worship to profit with the hymns. There is the Episcopal church across the way.
"Forbye," Archie went on, pursuing his line of thought, "I've my misgivin's aboot wha wrote thae hymes. It wasna the deevil, an' it wasna Watts, an' it wasna yon great Methody body; they set them doon, nae doot but wha started them? I'm sair dootin' they had their rise amang the hills, the same whaur Dauvit saw the glory o' God." "Above the hills of time," I added softly.
But King Dauvit himsel' was mair fearsome than me wi' blasphemers no' to ca' Margaret yin; but I'm mindin' that the Maister aye took anither way, a better yin, I'm dootin'. An' I'm feart I was mair like Dauvit, for a' I'd raither be like the Maister." "You have the right of it, Archie; He showed us the more excellent way."
'We canna do wi' them ava, they cried; 'gie us the Psalms o' Dauvit. But they set an example to many of their fellows, and the remarkable spectacle was witnessed in more than one barrack room of these stalwart crofters engaged in family prayer. But it is time we saw our soldiers depart.
But, troth, if it wasna prentit in the Bible, I wad whiles be temp'it to think it wasna the Lord, but the muckle black deil that made the sea. There's naething good comes oot o't but the fish; an' the spentacle o' God riding on the tempest, to be shüre, whilk would be what Dauvit was likely ettling at. But, man, they were sair wonders that God showed to the Christ-Anna wonders, do I ca' them?
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