The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1893-08-09
4" The Minister"

The crows were wheeling behind the
plow in scattering clusters and plump
ing singly upon the soft, thick grubs
which the plowshare was turning out
upon an unkindly world. 1t was 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 a
dozen sea gulls, white Migrants among
the black coats, blown by the south
wind up from the Solway-a smell,
Scotch, but not unfriendly day alto
gether.
Robert Fraser bent to the pillow han
dies and cast keen and wary eye
toward 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 a blue haystack
above the level horizon of the moor
land. He was dressed like any other
plowman of the south uplands-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 Robert
Fraser 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 weather
beaten straw hat with characteristic
gesture and showed a white forehead
with blue veins channeling ia 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 evenly along the top of
the distant dixie of the highway.
He stood still for moment or two
watching them. AS they came nearer
they resolved themselves into smart
young man sitting in well equipped
gig drawn by a SLOWLY actioned horse
and driven by a 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 DIR.
Henry Fraser, the rising physician 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 into 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
distinguished the stickit minister from
the other small farmers of the parish OF
Dullarg was the fact that he always sal
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 haC
settled down to the farm, and he wei
coined him with shy cordially.
You'll take cup of tea, Saunders?'
he asked.
"Thank ye, Robert, | wadna bt
waur o't," returned his friend.
Sc saw your brither the day" sale
Saunders M'Quhirr, after the teacupi
had been cleared away and the silen
housekeeper had replaced the books
upon the table. Saunders picked {
couple of them up, and having ad
justed his glasses he read the titles
" Millions Works" and volume of {
translation of Dorner's Person o
Christ"
81 saw yer brither the day. HI
maun be gettin' big practice"
"Ayep' said Robert Fraser very
thoughtfully.
Saunders M'Quhirr glanced up at hin
quickly. 1t was of course natural tina