the occasion—these remarks were never ill ta’en. I mind to
this day a gey droll interruption that took place ae nicht in
the middle o’ David Whammond’s address. The subject wis, I
think, the Origin o’ Evil. The speaker leant ower his desk in
real earnest, and James Reid sat i’ the precentor’s seat wi’ his
head cuist on ae side as if waitin’ for something to pick a
quarrel wi’.
“Did ye niver think o’t, my dear young lassocks,” says David, laying aside his glesses, “ did ye niver think it wis a curious thing that the serpent should have come to the woman —a puir, helpless, unoffensive woman ? But he kent fine what he wis daein’—he wis cunnin’ enough for that. My dear young lassocks, if the serpent had come to Adam, dae ye ken what Adam wud hae dune ? He wud hae chappit aff his heid wi’ a spade.”
“ Noo, David Whammond, I wonner to hear ye,” says James Reid; “ man I wonner to hear ye! I never like to accept onything ye canna prove. Hoo dae ye ken they had spades in Adam’s time ? ”
“ Do you think, James Reid,” quoth David, lookin’ doon wi’ great dignity, “ do ye think the Lord wis gaun to let Adam delve the yaird o’ Eden wi’ his fingers ? ”
It’s funny hoo this should come into my heid at sic a solemn time, but the interruption wis real droll.
So puir David Whammond has won awa’. His wis a faithfu’ life, an’ he had been spared to work out his guid twal ’oors i’ the vineyaird. It wud hae been an unchristian thing to vex. I gaed awa’ doon to his dochter’s to see his remains, and I must alloo it wis as bonny a corp as ever I saw. Weel, as I wis cornin’ awa’ his dochter took me into the wee room where he keepit his books, and she tak’s doon ane that had been weel read and weel thoom’t.
