CHAPTER X
CALLED TO THE COLOURS
For some time after the first stir of Burke's and Trooper's departure,the war occupied all minds. The first shock of German brutality wasshaking civilisation, and people were trying to readjust themselves toliving back in the days of barbarity. Mr. Holmes was compelled eachday to contradict the prophecies he had made the day before until hebecame quite discouraged, and the groups that met every day at thestore to wait for the daily papers which the Doctor and Mr. Sinclairtook, began to have their long-established faith in his opinions ratherdisturbed.
For even if the Germans had not succeeded in persuading the postmasterthat he was wrong Dr. McGarry would have done so. The Doctor was atremendously loyal Briton and these disastrous days were hard on histemper. People were afraid to ask him how the war was going, when heopened the newspaper, for if it were bad woe betide the questioner.The reverses of the Allies were nearly breaking his big heart and hehad to vent his grief and wrath on somebody. He railed at Britain forbeing unprepared, he stormed at the United States for their neutrality,and he denounced Canada for being so slow, and always ended up bydeclaring that Germany would win and wishing with all his heart that,instead of being sixty, he were Trooper's age and were riding with himin the Princess Pats.
This sort of talk made an uncomfortable home atmosphere for youngWallace, who had no desires to be up and away from the comfortablefire-side and all the pleasant surroundings of Orchard Glen, and justnow his environment, with Christina Lindsay's bright eyes to welcomehim wherever he went, was pleasanter than he had ever dreamed it couldbe.
But if the Doctor's fiery patriotism did not greatly disturb hisnephew, it made life quite miserable for his sister. Indeed the poorlady had more troubles in these days than many a mother who had senther son to the Front.
The thing she had most feared had come upon her; namely that Wallaceshould take up in the vulgar country fashion with one of the youngwomen of the village. She had to confess to herself that of all theOrchard Glen girls the Lindsays were perhaps the least objectionable,and Christina's manner seemed always quiet and well bred. But at bestthe case was very dreadful. Suppose Wallace became infatuated, andWallace had a habit of doing that, what might not happen? He mighteven want to settle down on a farm here and be married, and he with allUncle William's wealth at his disposal if he would only make proper useof his opportunities!
There was just one fate that would be worse than remaining in OrchardGlen, Wallace might take a notion to enlist, and his Uncle's outburstsof temper were sufficient to drive the boy to do anything desperate.
She sat herself with all her might to the task of making him studyhard, so that he would be ready to go back to college in the States andbe away from all the temptations of both Christina and the war. Butmaking Wallace study was a heavy task, especially now with hisinfatuation for the Lindsay girl growing stronger every day.
He was off almost every night with the village rabble. He joined thePresbyterian choir, and the Temperance Society, and went to Bible Classevery Sunday afternoon. And the time that was left from theseengagements, she suspected, he spent at the Lindsay farm.
Indeed her mind was not at rest concerning him even during the hourswhen he was supposed to be under the tutelage of Mr. Sinclair, thoughMiss Margaret was away. No one knew what Mr. Sinclair would do with ayoung man who came under his influence. Mrs. Sutherland wanted Wallaceto be a good boy, of course, she confessed with tears in her eyes, andshe trusted he would always be religious and go to church as she hadtaught him, but Mr. Sinclair never seemed to know where to stop inmatters of religion, and might spoil all the worldly prospects of ayoung man like Wallace. There was that young Neil Lindsay. Herbrother always said that he was the brightest young man that OrchardGlen had ever sent out, and that he would make his mark in the world,and Mr. Sinclair had spread his blighting influence over him and now hewas studying to be a minister and would likely go away off into somedreadful heathen country and never be heard of again. And indeedOrchard Glen could furnish many another instance of his undoing apromising career. And who knew what he might do with Wallace? Ofcourse ministers existed for the purpose of seeing that wayward sonskept in the path of rectitude, but they ought to know there should betemperance in all things. For while Mrs. Sutherland wanted her son tohave sufficient religion to keep him from going wrong and doinganything disgraceful, she certainly did not want him to have so muchthat it would interfere with his getting on in the world. And Mr.Sinclair seemed to have no notion that getting on in the world matteredat all.
Wallace continued to be as gay and good-natured as ever in the face ofhis mother's tears and his uncle's temper. He would pull her earplayfully when she admonished him, and when Uncle Peter grew cross andgrumpy he would go off whistling up the hill to the Lindsay farm.
As for Christina her golden dreams had all come true. She had at lastobtained that one great requisite to happiness, a special cavalier ofher own, to wait upon her and do her bidding. There was no moreslipping home alone forlornly from meetings, no more coaxing John totake her to picnic or concert, no more fear of Gavin Grant seeing herhome. And not only was her cavalier always at her side on theseoccasions, but he was the beau ideal of all the girls in Orchard Glen,as Christina was the envy. Her sweetheart was young and handsome andgallant and gay, indeed the very Dream Knight who had lingered so longjust beyond the horizon and had ridden at last up to her door.
Mary wrote her delight in Christina's good fortune, hinting just alittle surprise that she should have won a prize where Mary herself hadfailed. Ellen wrote cautioning her sister not to set her heart on anyone for the present. Wallace was young and they would likely beparted, and people saved themselves a great deal of pain if they didnot make plans for the future.
Christina was too busy to think much of the future, the present wasquite sufficient. For besides all the joyous social events and homeduties, like all the other women of the village she was called upon totake up the burden of Red Cross work.
The Red Cross Society proved as great a blessing in the divided ranksof Orchard Glen society, as it did on many another field of battle. Itprovided a place where the Methodists and Presbyterians could meet oncommon ground and it was wonderful to see the gradual drawing togetherof the forces that had been rent asunder by the skirl of old Lauchie'sbagpipes It was very heartening to see Mrs. Henderson, Tremendous K.'swife, and Mrs. Johnnie Brown, the wife of the Methodist Sunday SchoolSuperintendent working side by side. It was impossible to keep fromspeaking when you were sewing on the same hospital shirt and graduallypeople began to forget that there were Methodists and Presbyterians inthe world, remembering only that there were Germany and the Allies.And when Tremendous K. was asked by the Red Cross Society to get up aconcert that winter to raise Red Cross funds, Methodists and Baptistscame flocking back to the choir and they all sang, "O, Canada" and"It's a Long Way to Tipperary," together as though there had never beena piper in Orchard Glen.
But these harmonious heights were not reached without many a rocky bitof road for the Red Cross Society to travel.
When the Society was formed, a number of women came out from Algonquinto organise, though Mrs. Johnnie Dunn did not see why in common sensethey couldn't form a society themselves without a lot of women fromtown trolloping out to show them how to do something they all knew howto do already. Nevertheless the ladies from town came and theyorganised centres in Dalton and Greenwood and Orchard Glen and in otherplaces all through the country.
The Orchard Glen Red Cross Society was to meet once a week in thebasement of the Methodist Church, it being the largest available spacein the village.
Mrs. Sutherland was made President and Mrs. Sinclair Treasurer; andyoung Mrs. Martin was Secretary, with Christina Lindsay to assist andtake the minutes when the children were so bad that nobody could managethem. There was a large executive committee besides, but all theseofficials were quite irrelevant, for Mrs. Johnnie Dunn was the realhead and b
ody and limbs of the society, and looked after all itsbusiness.
Then The Woman brought out the materials for sewing and knitting fromAlgonquin, and returned the garments when she thought they ought to befinished, and woe betide the unlucky Red Cross worker who was behind aday with a shirt or a pair of socks! For she decreed just how much wasto be done each week, and no Prussian Militarist ever ruled with sohigh a hand.
"Just add another roll o' towelling to that order," she would commandthe Algonquin woman who was handing out her month's work, "there's alot o' lazy lumps out at our corner that's sittin' pickin' theirfingers for want o' somethin' to do."
The Society followed The Woman and the President was left far in therear. Indeed Orchard Glen was rather proud of Mrs. Johnnie Dunn. Shewas so clever and made such a name for them in Red Cross circles. Thevalentine episode was forgotten with other pre-war trivialities and shewas reinstated in her old place of leadership.
Mrs. Sutherland presided at all Red Cross meetings with something ofthe air of a Queen ruling a much limited monarchy, over which astrenuous and efficient Prime Minister is wielding unlimited power. Itwas an unpleasant position and the rightful monarch might have madeefforts to retain her authority but for the ambassador who kept peacebetween the Queen and the Prime Minister. The peacemaker was the lastwoman in Orchard Glen to be chosen for such a task, and yet a realpeacemaker Joanna proved herself.
Joanna Falls would never have filled the position, but Joanna Boyd, asevery one was discovering, was a new creature. She came back from herbrief trip with Trooper, when the first contingent left for England.She had a wedding ring on her hand and a new light in her handsomeeyes. And she was so gentle and kindly that those who did not stop toremember that love works miracles scarcely knew her.
She became Mrs. Sutherland's life-long friend on the very day the RedCross Society was formed. It was after the meeting and people werestanding about asking questions and delivering opinions, Mrs.Sutherland was still sitting on the platform with the visitors fromtown and called Joanna to her.
"Mrs. Boyd, my dear," she said pleasantly, "will you come here amoment?"
Joanna looked around in a moment's bewilderment, wondering who Mrs.Boyd was, and then the girls all laughed, and she remembered, and,blushing and looking very beautiful, she obeyed. Mrs. Sutherlandintroduced her as "Our war bride," and told how Trooper had gone awayat the first call of his country. And the visitors asked her all abouthim, and Joanna, with tears in her handsome eyes, told how he was inthe Princess Pats and expected to be in the fighting any day now. Itwas so wonderful to be able to talk about Trooper and speak out hergrief without shame, that Joanna's voice grew very soft and her mannergentle. And a lady whose only son had also ridden away in the PrincessPatricias' patted her hand and said it was the women who stayed at homewho needed to be brave and that she had many to sympathise with her.
From that day Joanna became Mrs. Sutherland's right hand, she wasalways ready to do her bidding. Mrs. Sutherland would call across theroom full of shirts and towels and whirring machines, "Mrs. Boyd, mydear, could you find me the back of this shirt? I must have mislaidit." And Joanna would run and wait on her hand and foot, Joanna whoused to throw the dishwater so it would splash over into Mrs.Sutherland's yard!
And another miracle caused by Trooper's going to the war was thefriendship that sprang up between Joanna and The Woman. Mrs. JohnnieDunn was a warrior at heart herself, and Trooper's leap to the firstsound of the bugle thrilled her. She would have parted with a year'sprofits on milk before she would confess this, but she was reallyinordinately proud of her soldier and her feelings were displayed inher treatment of him. He had enough socks to foot every man in thePrincess Patricias and there was never a soldier in the Canadian Armyreceived such boxes of cake and candy as Trooper.
So his wife and his aunt became firm friends in their common love andpride. They sat together at sewing meetings, sharing scraps of eachother's letters and the latest bit of news concerning the Princess Pats.
But Joanna had no easy task keeping peace in the Red Cross Society.The course of that blessed institution ran over a rough bed of rocksfrom the day of its inception.
There were a deal of rules about the fashioning of shirt collars andthe hemming of sheets and the sewing on of buttons and the folding ofbandages which The Woman characterised as tomfoolery. The Presidentwas for keeping the rules. She believed in system, she stated in heraddress to the Society, but Mrs. Johnnie Dunn believed only in her ownsystem, and told every one to go ahead and do things the way they hadalways done and they'd be all right.
Then there was the knitting! Granny Minns, who could turn out her socka day, and not omit a tittle of Mitty's scolding, said the KitchenerToe was all humbug. She had knit for her son Tom all his life and herhusband too, and was now knitting for Burke. And Burke said her sockswere Just right, and what was good enough for Burke was good enough forthe other soldiers!
She had an army of followers who were ready to second all she said.Mrs. Lindsay and the Grant Girls and Mrs. Brown and Tremendous K.'smother were all superexcellent knitters, and Mrs. Brown who was no moreafraid of Mrs. Sutherland than The Woman was, said right out in themeeting that the Kitchener Toe was jist some norms got up by the womenin the town who hadn't enough to do, and had never learned to knit,anyhow! And Mrs. Brown and Tremendous K.'s wife took to walking hometogether after the meetings, just to discuss the foolish fashions ofsome women like Mrs. Sutherland!
Mrs. Sinclair asked for one of the leaders to come out from town andtell about the Kitchener Toe. The lady came and they had an extrameeting in the basement of the Methodist church, and passed around teaand cake and pie afterward. The lady spoke of the horrors of TrenchFeet, and showed how the wrong sort of knitting would be sure toproduce it. But as Granny Minns never went anywhere, and Mrs. Lindsayand the Grant Girls went only to church, and Mrs. Brown was too deaf tohear, and Mrs. Tremendous K. told her it was just all dishwater anyway,the talk had very little effect.
So a secret society was formed, of which Joanna and Mrs. Sutherlandwere the leaders. They met at night with drawn blinds and lockeddoors, and ripped out the uneven and condemned knitting and knit it upagain. And before long Orchard Glen was mentioned in the Algonquinpapers as the one place that always sent in perfect socks. And aphotographer came out from town and took a picture of Granny Minns, asthe oldest knitter of faultless socks, and it was put in the paper andOrchard Glen was held up as an example for the countryside and was theenvy of the whole knitting public.
The excitement over Red Cross troubles during the winter almost madefolk forget the war. The terrible onrush of the enemy had been stoppedat the Marne, and, lulled by an over-censored press, the public settleddown to the belief that when the Spring came the Germans would beforced back across the Rhine and the war would be over. Britain wassafe anyway, every one knew that. For there was the Navy and that, asevery one knew, was invincible.
The first contingent had gone; English and Scottish reservists likeBurke had left, and many another Old Country man had volunteered, goingback to give the old land a helping hand. Then there were the gay ladsfull of adventure like Trooper, up and away at the first glad chance oflooking into "the bright face of danger," and some serious minded onesalso, knowing that a terrible danger menaced humanity and they muststand as a wall between. But the great mass of young Canada was as yetundisturbed, and while the press could have called them with one buglesound, the press sent them back to their work and their play, and sothey lingered undisturbed.
Wallace had to part with Christina at Christmas time, a consummationthat had been devoutly looked forward to by his mother. He left herwith many promises to write and to be home for Easter. Christina hadscarcely time to miss him for Sandy and Neil came home and Mary andHugh McGillivray came up from Port Stewart and the house rang with thegood times they all had together. And Grandpa could scarcely bepersuaded to go to bed lest he miss some of Jimmie's and Sandy's antics.
&nb
sp; On Christmas day a letter came from the two absent ones. They wereinvited to take dinner with some friends in Prairie Park, people whohad heard Neil preach when he was in the west, and they declared hewould be one of Canada's leading preachers some day.
Allister wrote a longer letter than usual to Christina. There was anentirely new note in it.
"This war has knocked things endways for me I'm afraid," he said. "Youneedn't say anything to John or the boys yet, but if everything keepsrolling down hill as fast as it's been going there will be no collegefor any one next year. So perhaps you were just as wise to stay home.I didn't know just how good you were to let Ellen come till she told meall about it. It's been rough on Ellen and you've been a brick to lether come. But if things don't get too rotten we'll win out yet andmake the world sit up and take notice. Ellen's got the craze to gonursing and she wants to start right away. Only she thinks she oughtto go home. If she trains maybe she'll be going overseas if this wardoesn't show some signs of ending."
It was not at all like Allister, and Christina was filled with anxiety.What if Sandy and Neil had to be stopped in their college course? AndAllister had furnished many a comfort on the farm that made life easierfor them all and especially for John and had hinted that there might bea car in the Spring. If his money all went with the war, there wouldbe never again any chance for her. But she did not worry over herself,only wrote to Ellen urging her to take her nurse's course by all means,for everything was quite all right at home.
When the pleasant rush of Christmas was over she was rather surprisedto find that life was not so dull as she had expected. She missedWallace, but not quite so much as she felt she should. She grewimpatient with herself and began to wonder if she were different fromother girls. Mary lived for Hugh, and Ellen's days had arrangedthemselves around Bruce's coming and going, and she could not but askwhy she was not as joyous over Wallace's preference for her as she hadexpected to be.
When he was away from her he seemed to be her very ideal Knight, sohandsome and brave and good, but when he was in her presence, he wasjust a very ordinary, pleasant young man, with no halo of romance abouthim. She was rather disappointed in herself. She wondered if she wereof a dissatisfied nature whom nothing could please.
And then she had no sooner settled down to a lonely winter thansuddenly Wallace came back. He came up to see her on the very eveningof his return, to explain his sudden appearance and tell her all thetragic sum of his experiences.
It appeared that his hopes were all blasted; his uncle had behaved in ashameful manner. In spite of the fact that Wallace had almost studiedhimself ill all Fall, Uncle William simply refused to let him go backto college.
"But your examination!" cried Christina in dismay. "You passed that,didn't you?"
Wallace had neglected to explain about the examination. One paper, theLatin prose, was quite beyond belief. The man who set it was crooked,there was no doubt about it, and anyway Wallace had always felt thatMr. Sinclair was very old-fashioned in his methods. A fellow justcouldn't learn under him.
Christina's heart was striving to excuse him, declaring that he hadbeen ill-used, while her head was protesting that he was only a spoiledboy who had wasted his opportunities, and was now ready to lay theblame at any door but his own.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," she declared with real sympathy. "And what willyou do now?"
"I think I'll enlist," he declared despondently, sinking down into thedepths of the soft couch, one of the comforts that Allister's money hadmade possible. "There isn't anything else for me to do. I've had suchrotten luck."
He glanced at Christina as he spoke and was rather disconcerted to seethat she made no opposition. His mother always wept and wrung herhands, and made any concession at the merest suggestion of his going tothe Front, and he had supposed that Christina would, at least, showsome agitation.
But instead there came a sudden light into her eyes.
"Oh," she declared, "it must be grand to be a man and go away and fightfor freedom!"
Wallace raised his head and stared at her.
"I don't believe you'd care a mite if I were killed!" he criedreproachfully.
Christina's eyes dropped to the grey sock she was knitting.
"Oh, I--I didn't mean that!" she cried apologetically. "I--I justthought maybe you wanted to go."
"I can't leave mother," he declared, "that's one sure thing. Andanother is that I'm going to give up the University. I never wanted togo anyway. I think I'll go into business, or perhaps I'll farm. I'mgoing to stay home for a week or so anyway and talk things over withUncle Peter."
He seemed to forget his troubles after this resolution and became hisold gay self, and Christina's head gave way to her heart and she wasaltogether happy that he had come home.
But there was not much happiness or comfort in the red house with thepillars. Dr. McGarry had helped his sister indulge they boy and now hewas angry with him for turning out the exact product to be expectedfrom their indulgence. The Doctor stormed and scolded and Mrs.Sutherland wept. Wallace threatened to enlist. Uncle Peter said itwas the best thing he could do and then, when things were reallygetting quite intolerable and Wallace was packing his trunk for partsunspecified, fate intervened once more and he was taken down with whatthe Doctor said was a very heavy cold but which Mrs. Sutherlanddeclared might easily develop into pneumonia.
Mitty Wright, who did Mrs. Sutherland's washing, reported that the wayhis mother waited on the young gentleman and babied him was a caution,and the Doctor was nearly as bad, running up and down stairs, scoldingone minute and giving medicine the next. The patient responded to thegood nursing and before the middle of January he was able to beoutdoors again. He convalesced very happily, especially after he wasable to walk as far as the Lindsay hill. Uncle William showed no signof repentance, though Mrs. Sutherland told him how near to death's doorthe boy had been, but Wallace did not seem disturbed. The evilprovided by Uncle Peter's war-distemper was sufficient unto the daywithout worrying over Uncle William. The old man would come round yet,Wallace felt sure, and meanwhile he was having a very pleasant time andOrchard Glen with Christina in it was a very delightful place.
Jimmie came stamping in one wild boisterous evening when February hadbegan to shout across the country from hill to hill and turn the worldinto a whirling whiteness.
It was Friday evening and he was earlier than usual as Mrs. JohnnieDunn had given him a lift more than half way in her cutter. And shehad so much Red Cross truck piled into it, he complained, that his feetstuck out into the drifts all the way home.
He had stopped at the postoffice for the mail, and there was a letterfrom Neil. His regular Tuesday letter had come as usual and a secondone was rather surprising.
Christina ran with it into the sitting room where her mother was sewingovertime on a couple of hospital shirts that The Woman said had to beready for Monday, and not a minute later.
"A letter from Neily," Mrs. Lindsay said, stopping her work and takingoff her spectacles to await the reading. "What will he be wanting tosay at this time o' the week?"
Christina tore it open and went to the window to catch the last lightof the short winter day. The letter started as usual with the weeklybudget of college news. Every one was speeding up, now, for Spring andexams, had just turned the last corner and were coming straight atthem. Sandy's new room was something superfine and much warmer thanthe last, but board wasn't getting any better. They were all longingfor a taste of Mother's biscuits and Christine's pies. And then theletter fell back into reminiscences of old days, as Neil's letters hada habit of doing.
"Do you remember, Mother, when we were little and any dangerthreatened, I was always the shy one who ran and got behind yourskirts? And do you remember you were always saying to John and me, andespecially to me, 'Lads must be brave?' It was not so bad, I rememberyour saying, if Ellen or Mary were to take fright when a stranger cameto the house, or Mr. Sinclair called to hear our Catechism, but it wasa
real disgrace for a boy. 'Lads must be brave' was your slogan. Andmany a time it has braced me in hard places since. Out on the prairie,for instance, when it was deadly lonesome, and the work seemed to be nouse, and down here in the city when I gave out my text the night Ipreached in Hamilton Street Church, and looked up and saw old ProfessorJohnstone sitting straight in front of me, looking at his boots. Itell you, Mother, the consolations of religion were not so upholding atsuch moments as your 'Lads must be brave.'
"And how it has been 'dingin' in my ears these days to fairly deeveme," as Tremendous K. would say. "The bugle calls it every morningwhen the boys march out on the campus. I see it in every headline ofthe paper; I hear it in every call for men, and I'm afraid I haven'twanted to listen. I have wanted my life to run along a smooth road,the one I have planned for myself; a fine church with a big salary,plenty of time to study and a little to travel, and you sitting in theManse pew with the best silk dress in the church. That has been myprogramme. But the pleasant road was not the way the Master went, andthe servant cannot choose. He trod the hard way, and there is not theslightest doubt in my mind which way He wants me to go. I know you areguessing already at what I am going to ask of you. And now I must turnupon you with your own slogan and say, 'Mothers must be brave!' Oh,how brave and gallant they must be in these days, only they can know.But I know you, Mother, well enough to tell that you will say yes whenI ask you to be brave enough to let me enlist. It is not a matter ofchoice with me, I am constrained. Woe is me if I go not to Belgium!"
"I wish I could say this is all I am asking you to give up. Is it toomuch that we ask you to let Sandy go, too? He is more eager than I andsaw his duty clearly from the first. We both realise that yours is thehardest part. But your sons couldn't be slackers. And after all thewar may not last so long, and we'll be home before you know it. Sandywill likely be a general, and who knows but I may get to be alance-corporal!"
There was more in the same light strain and a note for Christina fromSandy, saying he was taking the officers' course and she must rememberwhen he came home to say "sir" to him when she addressed him.
But Christina did not read the letter through at first. When the fullmeaning of it burst upon her she turned to her mother, expecting to seetears, but instead her mother's small bent figure had grown suddenlystraight and her eyes were shining with a strange mingling of pride andanguish.
"Oh, Mother!" cried Christina, "oh, don't I wish I were a boy!"
"Whisht, whisht!" cried her mother, "I could ill spare you, Christine,I can ill spare the lads." And then she rose and went quietly into thebedroom and shut the door, and Christina knew that her mother had gonefor strength to bear this trial to the source of all power.
When Wallace came up the hill the next evening, he found the Lindsaysin a state of subdued excitement. Christina's cheeks were crimson andher eyes shone until she looked positively handsome.
"Sandy and Neil are both going to the war," she cried half in dismay,half in exultation.
"Are they really?" asked Wallace. "They're lucky. This beastlybreakdown of mine has spoiled all my chances. My, I'd like to be intheir boots!"
Christina felt a sudden rising of resentment. "I don't think they area bit lucky," she burst forth. "You surely don't call it lucky to goto the front and get badly wounded, and perhaps killed?"
Wallace smiled a superior smile. "There's not much danger of that.The boys won't get over there for a year at best, and the war willlikely be all over by that time. Germany can't stand this strain formany more months."
Christina had a distinct feeling of disappointment. She had wantedWallace to admire the boys for all they were giving up, and he wascalling them lucky, and maintaining an envious attitude as though theywere off on a free trip to Europe. She changed the subject hastily andhe did not refer to the war again that evening.
Jimmie and Uncle Neil alone were filled with rejoicing. Uncle Neilfelt an exultation that he was at pains to hide. He said little, forhis sister's anguished eyes forbade that he voice the pride that wasconsuming him, but he sat up half the night playing his fiddle, and forthe next few days he went about whistling all the warlike songs he knew.
The news was shouted to Grandpa, along with extracts from Neil'sletter, before he went to bed. He made little comment, merely sayingthat "they were fine lads and would do their duty." But Christina knewhe was deeply grieved that Neil should be turned aside from theministry. He expressed no sorrow but he did not sing the Hindmost Hymnand the next morning at family worship he read,
"Why art thou cast down, oh, my soul, and why art thou disquietedwithin me?"