"I am told," said the minister, "that there is a good deal of loose talk in bothies, and that one bad man often corrupts the whole lot."
"I fear, sir," replied Strang, "that that's the fault, not of bothies, but of human nature itself. In almost every company objectionable persons will be found. They are to be met with in the most select society, and even, I am told, in the rooms of divinity students. You'll correct me if I am wrong. There was Mr Joram's son of Kilbaigie, a divinity student, rusticated last year for being tipsy and uproarious at a gathering in his own lodgings."
Then after a little, Mr MacGuffog said—"this bothy of yours seems to be an exception. Is it not?"
"No," said Strang, "all in this neighbourhood are very much alike."
"Then I'm afraid," said the minister, looking very uncomfortable, "I've done the farmers injustice."
"Indeed you have, sir," replied Strang earnestly, "and they feel it very keenly. The country folk are talking of leaving your church in a body. 'Nurseries of hell' and 'servants of the devil' are uncommonly strong terms."
"But such terms," said the minister, "if I am rightly informed, must apply to the system as it exists elsewhere."
"Not so far as I am aware," said Strang. "Besides, your remarks referred to this neighbourhood."
Then after a long pause the minister said in a tone of great embarrassment, "What am I to do?"