Oor ain folk times

204 ANITHEB HALF-MUTGHKIN
said he was whustlin' on his dowg, as if that made ony
difference neither.'
The bareness of the Scottish ritual, too, of the old
school, and the wearisome lengthy sermons and services,
tended to create a distaste for church-going which is
much to be regretted. Here is an anecdote about Dr.
Kidd of Aberdeen. One of his hearers was an old
wifey who kept a ' cheenge - hoose,' but she regularly
attended the Doctor's kirk, and being wearied with
much service during the week, she often fell asleep in
church. One day the old Doctor was preaching as
usual rather lengthily when his ear caught a rather
stentorian snore. His eagle eye, following the lead thus
given, lit on the flushed face of the portly cheenge-
hoose keeper placidly slumbering in her pew. With a
touch of humour which was not at all uncommon in the
pulpit in those days, he called out in a loud tone,
' Anither half-mutchkin, mem ! '
' Comin', sir,' cries the wife, starting up at the well-
known summons, and then blushing purple with chagrin
to find herself in the kirk, the centre of some hundreds of
pairs of observant eyes. Then the good Doctor pointed
the moral by showing how eager many folk were to
acquire worldly wealth, but alas ! how careless they
seemed to be about getting the true riches.
I have heard of an old innkeeper who, being some-
what of a diplomatist, had tried to make the best of
two worlds by getting himself nominated as an elder in
some northern parish. It so happened that while a
fast-day was being held in his own parish there were
some Highland sports in a populous glen on the other
side of the range, for which he had acquired the right