Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1893-08-03
"THE MINISTER. 4"

1
ing singly upon the soft, thick grubs
which the plowshare was turning out
upon an unkindly world. Itwas bask.
blowy day in the end Of March, and
there was hint Of storm in the air-a
hint emphasized for those skilled in
weather lore by the presence Of half .
dozen sea gulls, white vagrants among
the black coats, blown by the south
wind up from the Solway-a smell,
Scotch, but not unfriendly day alto
i gether.
Robert Fraser bent to the plow ham
dies and cast keen and wary eye to-
ward his guide posts on the ridge. His
face was colorless, even when dash Of
rain came swirling across from the crest
of Ben Gairn, whose steep bulk heaved
itself blue haystack above the level
horizon of the moorland. He was dressed
like any other plowman Of the south up
lands-rough homespun much the worse
for wear, and leggings the color of the
red soil which he was reversing with the
share Of his plow.
Yet there was that about Ropert Fra
ser which marked him no common man.
When he paused at the top Of the ascent
and stood with his back against the
horns Of the plow-the countryman's
legacy from Adam of the Mattock-he
pushed back his weatherbeaten straw
hat with Characteristic gesture and
showed white forehead with blue veins
channeling it-a damp, heavy lock of
black hair clinging to it as in Severn's
picture of John Keats on his deathbed.
Robert Fraser saw a couple Of black
specks which moved smoothly and even
ly along the top of the distant dixie Of
the highway.
He stood still for a moment or two
watching them. AS they came nearer
they resolved themselves into o smart
young man sitting in a well equipped
gig drawn by showily actioned horse
and driven by man in livery. As they
passed rapidly along the road the hand
of the young man appeared in careless
wave of recognition over the stone dixie,
and Robert Fraser lifted his slack reins
in staid acknowledgement. 1t was more
than year since the brothers had looked
each other so nearly in the eyes. They
were DR.. Henry Fraser, the rising physi-
clan of Cairn Edward, and his elder
brother Robert, once student of divinity
at Edinburgh college, whom three par
ishes knew as "stickit minister"
When Robert Fraser stabbed his
horses that night and went in to his sup
per, he was not surprised to find his
friend, Saunders M'Quhirr of Drumqu-
hat, sitting by the peat fire in the ''room."
Almost the only thing which distin-
guished the stickit minister from the
other small farmers of the parish of Dull
larg was the fact that he always sat in
the evening by himself "ben the hoose"
and did not use the kitchen in common
with his housekeeper and herd boy, save
only at mealtimes. Robert had taken
to Saunders ever since-the back of his
ambition broken-he had settled down to
the farm, and he welcomed him with shy
cordially.
"You'll take cup of tea, saundersP'
he asked.
"Thank ye, Robert, I wadna be waur
o't," returned his friend.
~ saw your brither the day." said
Saunders M'Quhirr, after the teacups
had been cleared away and the silent
housekeeper had replaced the books upon
the table. Saunders picked couple of
them up, and having adjusted his glasses
he read the titles Millions Works" and
a volume of a translation of ''Dorner's
Person of Christ"
II saw yer brither the day. He maun
be gettin big practice"
"Aye!" said Robert Fraser very
thoughtfully. ..
Saunders M'Quhirr glanced up quick
ly. 1t was of course natural that the |
unsuccessful elder brother should envy |
the prosperous younger, but he had |
thought that Robert Fraser was living
on different plane. It was one of the
few things that the friends had never |
spoken of, though every one knew why
DR.. Fraser did not visit his brothers lit
tie farm. Hes gettin in wi the big fowk
moo an thinks maybe that his brither
wad dae him nae credit" That was the
way the clash of the countryside ex-
planned the matter.
81 never told you how came to leave
the college, Saunders" said the younger
man, resting his brow on hand that
even the horn of the plow could not
make other than diaphanous.
*No," said Saunders quietly, with a
tender CLEAN coming into the humor-
some, kindly eyes that lurked under their
bushy tussocks of gray eyebrows. Saun-
ders' humor lay near the fountain of
tears.
"No," continued Robert Fraser, '.I
have not spoken of it to so many, but
you've been o good frien to me, Saun-
ders, and think you should hear it. I
have not tried to set myself right with
folks in the general, but would like to
let you see clearly before I 60 my ways
to him who seeth from the beginning"
"Hear till him, said Saunders; ''man,
yer hoast Cough is no'near as sair as it
was i the back end. Yell be here lang
after me, but lang or short, weel do ys
ken, Robert Fraser, that ye need no to
pit yersel RIGHT wi me. Hev no kenned
ye since ye war the size O twa scrub
bersp"
II thank you, Saunders" said Robert,
'but am well aware that I am to die
this year. No, no, not a word. 1t 10
the Lords will. It's more than seven
years now since I first kenned that my
days were to be few. twas the year my
father died and left Harry and me by our
lane.
'|He left no siller to speak of, just
snlanfv to law hin, dncantlv in fha Kirk.