Drawing himself up to his full height, the beadle replied, “Well, you did wrong, shir—very far wrong; it was your duty, shir, to have stopped and admonished me.” The minister was pleased enough to see Donald’s back, as by this time it was very apparent the sympathies of the Session were with the accused.
We rarely find the beadle at loggerheads with the minister, however. He rather inclines to regard the minister’s and his own interests as identical, and is disposed to be friendly and confidential. So confidential, indeed, that it is recorded of one that, when the minister was in a state of exasperation about something or other, John looked sympathisingly towards him and said, “Gin ye think that an aith wad relieve ye, sir, dinna mind me!”
“John,” said a parish minister in Perthshire to his beadle not very long ago, “that Disestablishment cry is becoming serious. Dr. Hutton and his crew are apparently not to rest until they have us all put out of church and manse together. Why, I see there’s to be a set of agitators from Glasgow and elsewhere to be holding a meeting in our very own parish this week.” “Dinna ye bother yersel’, minister,” was the beadle’s reply, “dinna ye bother yersel’. If the kirk continues to do her duty, the very gates o’ hell will no prevail against her. We have Scripture for that. As an instance, sir. Ye mind o’ yon five dissenters wha tried to put me oot o’ the grave-diggin’ twa years syne, I’ve happit four o’ them noo!”
“Drunk again, John,” said a north country minister one day to his beadle, meaning, of course, that John was clearly the worse of liquor.
“Don’t mention’t,” replied John, with a bleary wink, “I’m geyan weel on mysel’, sir.”
“Drunk again, John,” said a north country minister to his beadle (meaning, of course, that John was clearly the worse of liquor). “Don’t mention’t,” replied John, with a bleary wink, “I’m geyan weel on mysel’, sir.”—[Page 131.]
“That’s a damp, cold morning,” said the minister, as he entered the Session-house, chaffing both hands and feet.
“Deevilish, sir, deevilish!” replied John, catching the sense perhaps, although the sound reached him imperfectly.