"
John pulled out the keys, and dashed them on the gravel at the
reverend minister's feet. "There are the keys o' your kirk, sir! I
hae never had muckle mense o' them sin' ye entered the door o't. I
hae carried them this three and thretty year, but they hae aye been
like to burn a hole i' my pouch sin' ever they were turned for your
admittance. Tak them again, an' gie them to wha you will, and
muckle gude may he get o' them. Auld John may dee a beggar in
a hay barn, or at the back of a dike, but he sall aye be master o'
his ain thoughts an' gie them vent or no, as he likes."
He left the manse that day, and I rejoiced in the riddance; for I
disdained to be kept so much under by one who was in bond of
iniquity, and of whom there seemed no hope, as he rejoiced in his
frowardness, and refused to submit to that faithful teacher, his
master.
It was about this time that my reverend father preached a sermon,
one sentence of which affected me most disagreeably. It was to
the purport that every unrepented sin was productive of a new sin
with each breath that a man drew; and every one of these new
sins added to the catalogue in the same manner.
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