He was standing in one of the front rooms, speaking to Mrs. McKeel, and David, his son.
"Ma dears, this wee eenstrument ye see in ma han' is desteened to save the lives o' mony o' the sons o' Adam wha may be bruised i' the heel, as the Scripture has it, by the serpent; which I tak' to mean ony beast o' the breed, either whip snake, black snake, brown snake, or tiger snake. If a man or woman, or bairn for that matter, is bitten by a snake, let them be brocht to me, as quick as may be, an' I'll inject into their foreairm a drap or twa o' ammonia, which I hae got frae Melbourne this vera day, alang wi' this eenstrument, by post."
"How wonderful, papa!" said Mrs. McKeel.
"I don't believe it," said David.
"What can ye expec' frae a pig but a grunt," said his father, turning savagely round; "ye are sceptical, Daavid, in things above an' things beneath. Ye dinna follow the sayings o' ye'r namesake the sweet singer o' Israel. A greater than him said, 'Ye will not believe.'"
"Well, father, I wasn't meaning to say I did not believe you; but what I wanted to say was I did not think this hypodermic injection of ammonia, by the instrument you speak of, will cure snake-bite."
"Weel, weel, seein's beleevin'! The proof o' the pudden is the preein' o't. When ye'r opeenion is asked ye may speak; no till then!"
"I am sorry, father."
"Sorry here, sorry there, will never cure a man who is bitten by a snake, or by the Auld Serpent himsel', wha is the Deevil. Pit that in ye'r pipe an' smoke it!"