He seldom passed any remark about the doings of the Free Church, and those he did pass were of an inoffensive kind. He did not grumble at their successes, nor did he show any ill-feeling towards its adherents. Certainly he wondered at the interest their services seemed to excite, and the money they could command. He thought there were too many meetings and evening services, which might interfere with family and domestic duties; that they were in danger of spiritual pride (there he was right); but he thought upon the whole that good was being done,—at least he hoped so, and as the minister of the parish, he rejoiced in everything that promoted its real welfare.
He had a few good sermons, and was especially proud of a series of lectures on the parables. These he had commenced to re-deliver, although he did not do so in strict chronological order. One of his best, he thought, was on the Ten Virgins; but he felt crestfallen when, after asking an old friend’s opinion of it, he was answered:
“Mr. Walker, I’ve heard that lecture twenty years ago, and middling often since then. The virgins are auld maids by this time; ye should either marry them off or let them alane.”
The lecture Mr. Walker thought his very best was about the sower going out to sow. It was a congenial subject, as he had given agriculture very great attention, and he actually made it into two lectures, thus spreading it over two Sabbaths. He had preached the first half, and intimated that on next Sabbath he would resume the subject, and hoped to conclude it. Unluckily for him, an eminent clergyman from Edinburgh was to preach in the Free church on that day, and for the first time he felt chagrined at seeing a very small audience in his church.
He said to his candid friend John Tait, on the following Monday, “that he was sorry to see so few folk in church yesterday. If I know myself at all, I feed my people with the finest of the wheat, and my memory of what Mr. Mc—— was at college and in the hall is, that he was an indifferent scholar, although a showy speaker.”
Johnnie’s reply was at least honest: “Oh ay, Mr. Walker, nae doubt, nae doubt ye gi’e us as ye ca’t the finest o’ the wheat; but our wife bakes the best wheat scones in the kintra-side, and even they are the better o’ a little butter or jelly or honey to them; and maybe ye’re a wee scrimpit o’ that sort o’ kitchen to mak’ your substantial fare mair toothsomer.”
“ON HOUSEHOLD CARES INTENT.”
Between Mr. Barrie and Mr. Walker the intercourse was cordial, although not familiar. And Bell got reconciled to Mr. Walker, and even jealous of him when she saw that the manse garden and park were fully as productive as they had been under her management, although not quite so tidy.
The miracle already referred to, of how Mrs. Barrie could do what she did, and as she did it, on the income they had, still continued to exercise the wondering attention of the neighbourhood.
The flitting had been attended with considerable expense. Some new things had to be got for Knowe Park. The children were growing up, and the boys were, like all healthy boys, “heavy” on their clothes; and besides, Mr. Barrie was a liberal contributor for the maintenance of ordinances and the erection of the new church.