“One o’ the things we most firrmly endeavour tae cultivate is a true earnestness o’ purpose in a’ branches o’ oor wark, and the consequent avoidance o’ freevolity o’ a’ sorts. Oor little warld has its laws and salutary customs, and tae these a’ must conforrm. As to what these are, I, as senior member o’ the Institution staff, will be glad to gie information. Mr Allister and Mr Benson, in the unavoidable absence o’ oor respected Principal, I bid ye a hearty welcome.”
Allister flatly refused to respond, so Benson arose and made a few appropriate remarks. Soon afterwards the meeting broke up. Jeanie and Benson met at the door and walked on together.
“Are you not ashamed of yourself?” he asked, “for getting us down to that function under false pretences.”
“I am, rather; but I knew that if Mr Allister had had any inkling as to what was going to happen, he would not have come. But all my dissimulation was thrown away, for he did not make a speech after all. But do tell me what you think of us?”
“Well, my dominant feeling is one of hopeless inability to live up to your ideals. You see, I am not in any way cut out for a missionary. Moreover, I could not conscientiously recommend any self-respecting Gentile to light his candle at my lamp.”
“Oh, so far as that goes, Mr Mactavish’s lamp is so overflowing with oil, and shines so vividly that we might all quench ours without putting the Gentile public to any inconvenience. But I am keen on hearing original impressions; do oblige by telling yours.”
“It is quite clear you have not even guessed at the magnitude of my limitations. Nothing, as a rule, strikes my imagination unless it be funny. And I have not yet got sufficient ‘atmosphere,’ as the artists say, to enable me to appreciate properly the local humour. Truly, the pursuit of the humorous is my only serious occupation.”
“You are a disappointing man. Now, I am as fond of running other people’s impressions to earth as you are of hunting jokes. You must have acquired some impressions; do communicate them.”
“Well, the thing which strikes me as most remarkable about these people is the utter absence of anything like friendliness towards each other, or, in fact, towards anyone.”
“Ah, but when you have been here as long as I, you will look upon this afternoon as an oasis in a desert of unfriendly days. Why, most of these people hardly speak to each other when they meet, unless it be at a function such as this. There is, of course, one exception; outside the church on Sunday morning they all shake hands and smile sweetly. But from Monday to Saturday, when not at work, they glower and spend all their time brooding over imaginary slights and each other’s shortcomings.”