It was noted by some that after Mr Drummond had got his D.D.from an American University he also prayed occasionally for the President of the neighbouring republic; but this was rebutted by others, who pointed out that it happened only on the occurrence of assassinations, and held it reasonable enough.

The cavillers mostly belonged to the congregation of St Andrew's, "Established"-- a glum, old-fashioned lot indeed--who now and then dropped in of a Sunday evening to hear Mr Drummond preach.

(There wasn't much to be said for the preaching at St Andrew's.) The Established folk went on calling the minister of Knox Church "Mr" Drummond long after he was "Doctor" to his own congregation, on account of what they chose to consider the dubious source of the dignity; but the Knox Church people had their own theory to explain this hypercriticism, and would promptly turn the conversation to the merits of the sermon.
Twenty-five years it was, in point, this Monday morning when the Doctor--not being Established we need not hesitate, besides by this time nobody did--stood with Mr Murchison in the store door and talked about having seen changes.

He had preached his anniversary sermon the night before to a full church when, laying his hand upon his people's heart, he had himself to repress tears.

He was aware of another strand completed in their mutual bond: the sermon had been a moral, an emotional, and an oratorical success; and in the expansion of the following morning Dr Drummond had remembered that he had promised his housekeeper a new gas cooking-range, and that it was high time he should drop into Murchison's to inquire about it.