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Some forms of religious philanthropy had very little hold on the Doctor's sympathy one of the religious prints mentioned him freely as a Unitarian, because he had spoken unkindly of the Jewish mission but in the matter of widows and orphans he was a specialist. "Widows, Posty said; poor things! and very likely bairns. Well, well, we 'll see what can be done out of Daisy's fund."
None gave any sign of what he felt save Drumsheugh, whose sordid slough had slipped off from a tender heart, and Chalmers, who went behind a tombstone and sobbed aloud. Not even Posty asked the reason so much as by a look, and Drumtochty, as it passed, made as though it did not see.
"Posty says that the Afghans are no makin' muckle o' the war," and Hillocks would sally forth to enjoy Sir Frederick Roberts' great march, line by line, afterwards enlarging thereon with much unction, and laying up a store of allusion that would last for many days.
"Naethin', Doctor, worth mentionin', except the failure o' a company Glasgie wy; it's been rotten, a' wes hearin', for a while, an' noo it's fair stramash. They say it 'll no be lichtsome for weedows an' mony decent fouk in Scotland." "That's bad news, Posty. There 's too many of those swindling concerns in the country.
She reads it approvingly, and then carefully puts it into her bosom, but that won't retain it no how she can fix it, so she shifts it to her pocket. It is manifest Posty carries a verbal answer, for she talks very earnestly to him, and shakes hands with him at parting most cordially.
"The auld fouk in Drumtochty pit their siller in a pock and hode it ablow their beds, an', ma certes, that bank didna break;" and Posty went along the avenue, his very back suggestive of a past, cautious, unenterprising, safe and honest. The Doctor glanced at the envelopes and thrust the letters into his pocket.
She was aye against tastin', and a'm judgin' her tribble has ended it at beerials." "Man, it was hard on some o' yon lads the day, but there wesna ane o' them made a mudge. I keepit my eye on Posty, but he never lookit the way it wes. He's a drouthy body, but he hes his feelin's, hes Posty." Before the Doctor began the prayer, Whinnie took me up to the room.
When Posty handed Drumsheugh the factor's letter, with the answer to his offer for the farm, he only remarked, "It'll be frae the factor," and harked back to a polled Angus bull he had seen at the show. "Sall," said Posty in the kirkyard with keen relish, "ye'll never flurry Drumsheugh." Ordinary letters were read in leisurely retirement, and, in case of urgency, answered within the week.
Doctor Davidson allowed himself, in later years, the pleasant luxury of an after luncheon nap, and then it was his habit weather permitting to go out and meet Posty, who adhered so closely to his time-table notwithstanding certain wayside rests that the Doctor's dog knew his hour of arrival, and saw that his master was on the road in time.
Persons raised to the height of a daily newspaper like the minister might be supposed independent of Posty's précis, but even Doctor Davidson, with that day's Caledonian in his hand, still availed himself of the spoken word. "Well, Posty, any news this morning?"
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