In abundance of time Malcolm was ready to allow a quiet, unhurried walk with his mother which would bring them to the church a full quarter of an hour before the hour of service.
It happened that the Rev. Murdo was on a congenial theme and in specially good form that morning.
“How much better is a man than a sheep,” was his text, from which with great ingenuity and eloquence he proceeded to develop the theme of the supreme value of the human factor in modern life, social and industrial. With great cogency he pressed the argument against the inhuman and degrading view that would make man a mere factor in the complex problem of Industrial Finance, a mere inanimate cog in the Industrial Machine.
“What did you think of the sermon, Mother?” asked Malcolm as they entered the quiet lane leading home.
“No sae bad, laddie, no sae bad. Yon's an able laddie, especially on practical themes. Ay, it was no that bad,” replied his mother with cautious approval.
“What about his view of the Sabbath?”
“What about it? Wad ye no lift a sheep oot o' the muck on the Sawbath?”
“A would, of course,” replied Malcolm.
“Weel, what?”
“A was jist thinkin' o' Mr. Wigglesworth this morning.”