“’Deed, mem,” said Hillend, “gi’e us farmers a gude miller an’ a gude smith, an’ we can do weel enough wi’ ony ministers or doctors that likes to come.”
“That wasna bad for Hillend,” said Bell.
“Well, Bell,” said Mr. Walker, “I thought it rather hard on the ministers when I first heard the story, but—” And here he gave his views of the Non-Intrusionists with, for him, unusual fervour, and added, “Now I quite agree with Hillend, that congregations should accept, and welcome, and honour the ministers who are appointed over them.”
“That’s without a doubt,” said Bell; “and esteem them very highly for their work’s sake.”
“AS YOU LIKE IT.”
The news of Mr. Walker’s appointment to Blinkbonny was received with first a stare, then a shrug of the shoulders, then a pretty general feeling that “they might have had worse.” He was certainly not a shining light, but he was a nice man, had a large family, and it would be a good change for them. And although the local poetaster circulated a sorry effusion on the subject, in which he, without acknowledgment, stole from Cowper’s Needless Alarm,—
“A mutton statelier than the rest,”—
and—
“His loving mate and true,
But more discreet than he, a Moorland ewe,”—