Now, after all, extempore preaching is merely a matter of habit and experience.
Strangely enough, assistance came to Sandie from quite an unexpected quarter.
It was while he was in his third year, that one Thursday evening he was told by Elsie, who could hardly keep from smiling, that a lady and gentleman wanted to see him on a matter of business.
“Where are they, Elsie?”
“In the drawing-room, Sandie.”
“Say, I’ll be down in a moment.”
He dashed his fingers through his hair, smoothed down his dark brown beard, pulled up his collar, cleared his throat, and descended.
When he opened the drawing-room door, he was certainly somewhat surprised and taken aback at the youth and diminutive stature of the lady and gentleman. The boy was about eight, the girl barely ten.
But she opened negotiations with a promptitude that did her credit.
“Oh, if you please, Mr. M‘Crae, long, long ago when father first comed to this country from the Norf, he builded a school, and every Sunday night now there is preachin’ in the school, ’cause the people likes it, an’ every Fursday night little wee Williamie Gordon here, my bludder, and myse’f comes in to get a minister. But, oh, if you please, sir, we can’t get one to-night, and oh, would you come?”