It was about this time, I remember being struck with the fact that in the whole Imitation, from beginning to end, there is not one single word or hint of any worship offered to the Virgin. I ventured to say as much once to Father Austin, with whom I still did a Latin lesson now and then, and to ask him what he thought was the reason; whereat he smiled, and said when I saw Saint Thomas in Paradise I might ask him.
The orchards bore very plentifully that year, and we sold our crop at a good price. We were helping to pick up the last of them one fine October day, when old Adam remarked that he wondered who would have the ordering of those same trees another year.
"Why, you yourself—why not?" said I.
"Na, na, lassie, I'll no be here next year; at least I think not."
"You do not think you are going to die?" said I, anxiously, for he was a great friend of mine. "Do you feel ill?"
"No, I have my health well enough for one of my years. But we Islesmen have whiles a gliff of the second sight, and I have had strange visions concerning this house."
"Oh, you are thinking about the visit of the commissioners!" said I. "But you see that has blown over and nothing has come of it."
"I have whiles seen a storm blow over and then come back!" said the old man, seriously. "Na, na, lassie. Dinna be too confident. What's fristed * is no forgotten."
* Fristed is "covered up," or "skinned over."
