Kate Carnegie and Those Ministers | Page 5

had envied his hands and feet. But in chest measure he was only two
inches behind Saunders Baxter, the grieve of Drumsheugh, who was
the standard of manhood by whom all others were tried and (mostly)
condemned in Drumtochty. Chancing to come upon Saunders putting

the stone one day with the bothy lads, Carmichael had taken his turn,
with the result that his stone lay foremost in the final heat by an inch
exactly. MacLure saw them kneeling together to measure, the Free Kirk
minister and the ploughmen all in a bunch, and went on his way
rejoicing to tell the Free Kirk folk that their new minister was a man of
his hands. His hair was fair, just touched with gold, and he wore it
rather long, so that in the excitement of preaching a lock sometimes fell
down on his forehead, which he would throw back with a toss of his
head--a gesture Mrs. Macfadyen, our critic, thought very taking. His
dark blue eyes used to enlarge with passion in the Sacrament and grow
so tender, the healthy tan disappeared and left his cheeks so white, that
the mothers were terrified lest he should die early, and sent offerings of
cream on Monday morning. For though his name was Carmichael, he
had Celtic blood in him, and was full of all kinds of emotion, but
mostly those that were brave and pure and true. He had done well at the
University, and was inclined to be philosophical, for he knew little of
himself and nothing of the world. There were times when he allowed
himself to be supercilious and sarcastic; but it was not for an occasional
jingle of cleverness the people loved him, or, for that matter, any other
man. It was his humanity that won their hearts, and this he had partly
from his mother, partly from his training. Through a kind providence
and his mother's countryness, he had been brought up among
animals--birds, mice, dormice, guinea-pigs, rabbits, dogs, cattle, horses,
till he knew all their ways, and loved God's creatures as did St. Francis
d'Assisi, to whom every creature of God was dear, from Sister Swallow
to Brother Wolf. So he learned, as he grew older, to love men and
women and little children, even although they might be ugly, or stupid,
or bad-tempered, or even wicked, and this sympathy cleansed away
many a little fault of pride and self-conceit and impatience and hot
temper, and in the end of the days made a man of John Carmichael. The
dumb animals had an instinct about this young fellow, and would make
overtures to him that were a certificate for any situation requiring
character. Horses by the wayside neighed at his approach, and stretched
out their velvet muzzles to be stroked. Dogs insisted upon sitting on his
knees, unless quite prevented by their size, and then they put their paws
on his chest. Hillocks was utterly scandalised by his collie's familiarity
with the minister, and brought him to his senses by the application of a

boot, but Carmichael waived all apologies. "Rover and I made friends
two days ago on the road, and my clothes will take no injury." And
indeed they could not, for Carmichael, except on Sundays and at
funerals, wore a soft hat and suit of threadbare tweeds, on which a
microscopist could have found traces of a peat bog, moss of dykes, the
scale of a trout, and a tiny bit of heather.
[Illustration: Carmichael had taken his turn.]
His usual fortune befell him that day in Muirtown Station, for two
retrievers, worming their way through the luggage, reached him, and
made known their wants.
"Thirsty? I believe you. All the way from England, and heat enough to
roast you alive. I 've got no dish, else I 'd soon get water.
"Inverness? Poor chaps, that's too far to go with your tongues like a
lime-kiln. Down, good dogs; I 'll be back in a minute."
You can have no idea, unless you have tried it, how much water a soft
clerical hat can hold--if you turn up the edges and bash down the inside
with your fist, and fill the space to the brim. But it is difficult to convey
such a vessel with undiminished content through a crowd, and
altogether impossible to lift one's eyes. Carmichael was therefore quite
unconscious that two new-comers to the shelter were watching him
with keen delight as he came in bareheaded, flushed, triumphant--amid
howls of welcome--and knelt down to hold the cup till--drinking time
about in strict honour--the retrievers had reached the maker's name.
"Do you think they would like a biscuit?" said a clear, sweet, low voice,
with an accent of pride and just a flavour of amusement in its tone.
Carmichael rose in much