The lid o' the coffin
disna hide frae his een."
The last speaker was a stout, broad-shouldered man, a stonemason by
trade, powerful, and somewhat asthmatic. He was regarded in the
neighbourhood as a very religious man, but was more respected than
liked, because his forte was rebuke. It was from deference to him that
the carpenter had assumed a mental position generating a poetic mood
and utterance quite unusual with him, for he was a jolly, careless kind
of fellow, well-meaning and good-hearted.
So together they lifted the last covering of the dead, laid it over
him, and fastened it down. And there was darkness about the dead; but
he knew it not, because he was full of light. For this man was one who,
all his life, had striven to be better.
Meantime, the clergyman having arrived, the usual religious ceremonial
of a Scotch funeral--the reading of the Word and prayer--was going on
below. This was all that gave the burial any sacred solemnity; for at
the grave the Scotch terror of Popery forbids any observance of a
religious character. The voice of the reader was heard in the chamber
of death.
"The minister's come, Thamas."
"Come or gang," said Thomas, "it's muckle the same.
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