“What think ye yersel?” and Jamie eyed Hillocks with a gleam of humour.
“As sure 's deith, Jamie, a' canna guess, unless it be a notion.”
“Toots, man, a' thocht ye wud hae been sure tae jalouse the truth o' a' the fouk in the Glen; div ye no ken that a band hides the grease an' maks a hat laist twice as lang?”
“Is that a'?” said Hillocks; “juist economy?”
“Ye hae the word,” answered Jamie, with unblushing face. “That band's savit me the price o' twa new hats in forty year.”
It was on the way home from kirk, and after Hillocks had turned into his own road Jamie took off his hat and brushed the band with a reverent hand.
When Jamie “slippit awa” and the kirkyard met to pass judgment, it was agreed that he had been a thorough-going imposter and had quite befooled the outer world, but that he had never taken in the Glen.
“It cowed a' tae hear Kildrummie lecturin' on Jamie in the third laist Friday,” said Drumsheugh, with immense contempt; “ye sud hae been there, Hillocks; a' never heard as muckle doonricht nonsense atween the Junction an' the station in forty year. Man, gin Jamie hed juist been in the train himsel, he wud hae been terrible pleased.
“'He's awa noo.' says that jultlin' (tricky) twa-faced body Sandie Mackay, that gied Jamie licht wecht wi' his coal, 'an' it's oor duty tae be charitable, but a 've ma doots aboot him. His tongue wes nae scannal, an' he wes aye maist veecious against speeritual releegion.'”
“What said ye, Drumsheugh?” inquired Hillocks, with keen expectation.