"'It was but glow-worms!' said Walter Ker.
"'It was, aiblins, Wull-o'-the-Wisp?' said John Young.
"'Ay, that's mair like the thing, noo!' said Auld Anton, with something like a smile on his face.
"So saying he drove all the women (save two or three that had scattered over the moss) before him, till we came to the place of the ordinary Societies' Meeting at Howmuir, from which we set out.
"Here were assembled sundry of the husbands of the women—for the black shame of it was, that the most part of them were wives and mothers of families, of an age when the faults of youth were no longer either temptation or excuse.
"To them he delivered up the women; each to her own husband, with certain advice.
"'I have wrestled with the men,' he said, 'and overcome them. Wrestle ye with the women, that are your own according to the flesh. And if ye think that my oaken stave is too sore, discharge your duty with a birch rod, of the thickness of your little finger—for it is the law of the realm of Scotland that every husband is allowed to give his wife reasonable correction therewith. But gin ye need my staff or gin your wives prefer it, it is e'en at your service.'
"So saying, he threw his plaid over his shoulder, and made for the door.
"'Learn them a' the sweet singin',' he said. 'John Gib was grand at it. He sang like a mavis oot by there, on the moor at the Deer-Slunk.'"
This was the matter of Sandy's cheerful tale about John Gib and Auld Anton Lennox.