Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1902-05-31

| he half-envied US our driving spray and
battling bursts of hail and sleet. 1t was
exactly the sort of thing he would have
loved to front unblenching, like lion that
shakes his name in the face of his enc
, mics.
:.
In the first narrative which at the reouest
or the editor l contributed to these memo
rlals L told of old Duncan Grierson, and
now he first put me on the track of Mr.
rupert Glendonwyn the night before his
death-for which l shall be ever gra teful
TO HMM that 1 was enabled to catch the
last words of him who was nv only
brother after the flesh, and to learn from
his own lips that Kate Glendinning was his
wife. ~
Wen. as has been mentioned, Duncan
Grierson was one Of the first whom Mr.
GlendonWyn turned away for adherence to
the outgoing section of the Kirk Of Scot
| land. 1 knew nothing of this TIL late one
evening when l was sitting in my little bed
room. which was indeed but a sitting room
study, with camp bed filed away in the
corner
l had walked over a great deal of the
| parish that day, carrying out my ordinary
congregational Visitation-the first l had
maze under the altered conditions. 1 was
tired, and, wishing for I knew not what
something that 1 was little likely to get, at
all events-thinking, I doubt not, of Fairlie
Glendinning and all her sweetness. which
now TO me who had not spoken to her for
| the better part of year, seemed more win
somely inaccessible than ever was think
ing-foolsh things, / need not saw hnt
things which come even into a minister's
thoughts when they ought to be absent
from them-of certain little WAYS she had
that l remembered-ways Of looking over
her shoulder, Of tossing her head back-of
tying her halr and swinging her strap Of
DOCKS like a great twelve-year-old school
glrl-Very unbecoming in a teacher no
doubt, but somehow strangely cheering TO a
lonely man to think upon, as it were, be-
tween sermons. 1t had been arranged with
OLD BADLY that the piphtS u,ba
busy with my writings was to sound on a
| little Chinese gong which had had in NV
| student days in Davie Deans Houses
| Then Baby would set about prenarine q
| kind of well-oiled cruel made with heavy
leaves which she called tea.
Though / was not working this night. but
almost before the obedient metal had
| ceased to whirr the door opened noiselesslv
| Tea, If You please, Babby!" said, with.
out once lifting my eyes from the red
idly on my lap and the fame on the candles
| blowing little with the draft of the door.
| The door closed, not however, with the
usual rasping of the latch and muttering
| not injuring myself by overtudy (Which was
Babby's way. nor yet with a bang and the
scraping of great triple-soled boots on the
| mat !Whlch was Anton's), but noiseessly
| as II 1t had drifted to upon wings of noun
! tain mist.
1t seemed to me, thus musing, that had
not been "a minute alone before the door
! was open again. I thought that Baby had
] not understood, and 1 said somewhat cross
| ly, admit-but like a boy to his nurse
| 1T was some tea 1 wanted, Babby-can't
| you get me some?'
'Yes-sir!" said a voice familiar to me
| from boyhood indeed, but very far from be-
| ing that of my ancient dame Barbara.
| l leaped from my seat in great astonish-
ment. And there Immediately at my elbow
| in his correct buffers dress, cutaway coat
ind hut nj 1v,6 lDn, "a
| tie broad almost the palm of my hand
accurately squared at the angles. stood
| Duncan Grierson. He had wooden tray
| in his hand and a yellowish liquid in a tall
| tumbler, bountifully fragrant.
"Duncan!' cried, what are you doing
here?'
Tea, sir!' he said in his professional
| manner. And then relapsing into the ia
miliar, II indeed under any circumstances
Duncan Grierson could ever be called ia
miliar, I'VE see. Master John, brought uI
a few Lemons that happened, to get And
made We the tea as We like it when We
are tired, wi plenty O. leaves, meenite's