But in the opening temperance campaign the latter had come out avowedly on the side of local option, and was looked upon as one of the party's strongest speakers, while Jock had not yet declared himself. It was a delicate subject with Mr. McPherson, and he could not endure to be twitted about it.
He paused at the church steps and laid his hand on the doctor's velvet sleeve. He cleared his throat, always a dangerous sign.
"Yes," he said very slowly, "it will be a ferry fine song indeed, and if Edward would jist be putting big Aye-men on the tail of it to-morrow night, it will sound more feenished." The whole procession was waiting to enter the church, but Jock did not hurry. "As for the Glenlevit, the McPhersons were no more noted for liking their drop than many another clan I might mention. But they were honest about it." He paused again and then said even more deliberately: "And if you would like to be referring to the Scriptures again, you might be taking a look at your Bible when you get home, you will be finding some ferry good advice in Romans the 2nd chapter and 21st verse."
He turned away and marched solemnly into the church. The procession followed and it was then that J. P. Thornton, standing at his post, and wondering why Ed had not long ago appeared to receive the Scotchmen, beheld the amazing spectacle of his Irish friend and very brother, marching in their front rank, bonnet and plaid and all!
J. P. was too dignified to make a demonstration of his outraged feelings in church, but Miss Annabel Armstrong reported afterwards that when she passed him she heard him say something about Edward, that sounded like "You're too brutish"—or "too bruty" or something like that, and Miss Armstrong said it was exceedingly improper language for an elder to use in church.
J. P. was always in a state of mild irritation when he settled himself to hear the annual St. Andrew's sermon, but this morning he was decidedly indignant. By the time the Scotchmen had gone through two long psalms, with Lawyer Ed leading, he was hot and disgusted, and when the sermon came it was like acid poured upon an open wound.
The famous minister from the city made all the mistakes of his St. Andrew's predecessors and a great many more of his own. He lingered long at Bannockburn, he recited "Scots Wha Hae" in full, he quoted portions of the death of Wallace and altogether behaved in a way to leave the usually genial English listener with his temper red and raw and anxious for a fight.
Monday evening Lawyer Ed was to have driven out to McClintock's Corners with his friend, to speak at a tea meeting, and convince the farmers that Algonquin would be a much more desirable place as a market town with a prohibitory liquor law than it was at present.
But Lawyer Ed went to the St. Andrew's supper instead and ate haggis and listened to the pipes play "The Cock O' the North," and Archie Blair recite Burns and Jock McPherson make a speech on Scottish history.
That was more than J. P. could stand. He telephoned to Roderick early the next morning telling him to inform his chief that he, J. P., would go to no more temperance meetings with him. If Lawyer Ed wanted help in his campaign let him look for it among his brother Scotchmen. And the receiver slammed before Roderick could enquire what he meant.