They walked into the musty, dingy, brown-atmosphered house.

The cobbler led the way to a humble place behind a pillar; there Doory was seated waiting them.

The service was not so dreary to Donal as usual; the sermon had some thought in it; and his heart was drawn to a man who would say he did not understand.
"Yon was a fine discoorse," remarked the cobbler as they went homeward.
Donal saw nothing fine in it, but his experience was not so wide as the cobbler's: to him the discourse had hinted many things which had not occurred to Donal.
Some people demand from the householder none but new things, others none but old; whereas we need in truth of all the sorts in his treasury.
"I haena a doobt it was a' richt an' as ye say, Anerew," said his wife; "but for mysel' I could mak naither heid nor tail o' 't." "I saidna, Doory, it was a' richt," returned her husband; "that would be to say a heap for onything human! but it was a guid honest sermon." "What was yon 'at he said aboot the mirracles no bein' teeps ?" asked his wife.
"It was God's trowth 'at," he said.
"Gie me a share o' the same I beg o' ye, Anerew Comin." "What the man said was this--'at the sea 'at Peter gaed oot upo' wasna first an' foremost to be luikit upon as a teep o' the inward an' spiritual troubles o' the believer, still less o' the troubles o' the church o' Christ.

The Lord deals wi' fac's nane the less 'at they canna help bein' teeps.

Here was terrible fac's to Peter.