Oor ain folk times

A SHEPHERD ON LOST SHEEP 31
mounted a sod wall to address the reverently-ex-
pectant crowd of plaided hearers ranged on the
heather in front of him. Unwittingly to himself
he had taken his stand on an ants' or emmets'
nest, and in the fervour of his exhortation he dis-
turbed the serenity of the busy little colony of
black biting ' beasties ' underneath his feet. Out
they sallied in an angry swarm, and rapidly began
to attack the intruder, running up his legs and
swarming inside his pantaloons. The poor minister,
not comprehending the situation, but keenly conscious
of the hostile activity of the enraged colony, grew pale
and red by turns, and no longer able to maintain his
equanimity, blurted out to the amazed congregation : —
'My dear brethren, I may hae the word o' God
in ma mooth, but I believe the vera deil himsel's
gotten intill ma breeks.'
He had to beat an ignominious retreat and leave
the dyke in full possession of the emmets.
This calls to mind a good shepherd story in which
rather an original piece of Bible criticism occurred.
The shepherd was a quiet old character, named Sandy
Murray, and he dearly loved to engage in a long
philosophical or theological discussion with his lenient
master, who patiently humoured his little weaknesses.
One day old Murray opened the conversation by
saying :—
'Ye'll mind, sir, thon story o' the ninety-and-nine
sheep in the wilderness.'
' Ay ! fat o't 1 '
'Shepherdin' maun hae been gey different in thae
days.'