It had been evident to him for some time that he must try other means, and, being a great reader, he had latterly come across, and been much attracted by, a remarkable account of some ancient methods of the ‘Jesu-ytes’ in cases of this sort.
Sometimes the sinner in question had been unwittingly tempted into the ‘narrow path’ by the gratification of his ambitions on some point or other, conversion resulting, as in the case of Tom Appleby—once a fire-hot Socialist, now a sleek Conservative—from unexpected prosperity.
At other times the same end had been attained by a crafty flattery. Suppose a man ambitious of eminence and State distinction: he might be diverted from politics to the Church, and many were the instances given of bold and ambitious men who had done great work and attained high place as the servants of St. Peter.
Could Scotty not be caught hold of in some such fashion? queried Geordie to himself, as he sat by his fireside that night, deeply pondering the records he had just been studying. ‘I divvn’t think he’s ambitious, for he cares nowt aboot politics, an’ he never even thought o’ stannin’ for election on wor Parish Cooncil. Aal he cares for is his beer, an’ his quoits, an’ bettin’, an’—an’—his pansies; an’ I doot I cannot catch haud ov him in any one of those partic’lors, for it wouldn’t be fittin’ for us that’s a local preacher to gan an’ send him a barril o’ beer, or back him at a quoitin’ match. But stay—there’s the pansies; he’s pansy champion, dootless; but then I’s leek champion, an’ if I can grow leeks, I’s warn’d but I can grow pansies, for flooers is easier grown nor vegetables.’
Geordie puffed at his pipe vigorously for a minute or two in silence as he turned the matter over in his mind.
A light kindled slowly in the back of his deep-set eye, a smile showed upon his lips, then he cuffed himself vigorously upon the knee.
‘Ho-way, gan on, Geordie!’ he encouraged himself aloud; ‘thoo’s turnin’ a fair Jesu-yte, I’s warn’d!’
* * * * *
As the day appointed for the annual meeting of the Flower Show drew near, Geordie had been heard to drop hints of the ‘wonnerfu’ new specie’ of pansies he had become possessed of—‘seedlin’s’ he had obtained ‘doon the south-country way,’ and it was not long before the rumour reached the ears of Scotty.
Nothing could exceed the contempt of the latter when he heard of Geordie’s trying to grow pansies—‘him that’s just a vegetable man, a tormut (turnip) grower, a sort o’ ha’penny farmer,’ and as for anything good in the way of seedlings coming out of the south-country, it was just ‘bang ridi’klous, for a’ folk kenned that a’ the best growers lived in auld Scotland.’