Out of all the evenings, however, which the curate and schoolmaster spent in Ringan Scouler's, we can afford to select one only; but this shall be one on which something occurred to diversify the monotony of their meetings, otherwise distinguished only by the usual quarrel, the usual humdrum conversation (which, though sufficiently interesting to themselves, would, if recorded, afford very little entertainment to the reader), and the usual consumption of somewhere about a gallon of mine host's double ale. The particular evening to which we have alluded shall be one in the latter end of the month of October, and the year somewhere about _anno_ 1529. It was a raw, wet, and cold night--circumstances which greatly enhanced the comforts of Ringan's kitchen, as both the curate and schoolmaster very sensibly felt. Having each turned off a couple of horns of their good host's home-brewed, the conversation between the two worthies began to assume a lively, desultory character.
"I was up in the toun the day, curate," said the schoolmaster--a thin, hard-visaged personage, with a good deal of the failing said to be inherent in his craft--conceit. "I was up in the toun," he said--meaning Glasgow.
"Were ye?" quoth the curate--in personal appearance and manner the very antipodes of his friend; being a stout, homely-looking man, of blunt speech and great good-nature; his age, about forty-five. "And what saw ye strange there, Mr Craig?"
"Naething very particular, but the braw new gatehouse o' the archbishop. My certy, yon's a notable piece o' wark! His arms are engraven on the front o't--three cushions within the double tressure. Man, curate, can ye no contrive to warsle up the brae a bit? I'm sure waur than you's been made a bishop."
"I'm no sae ambitious, Johnny," replied the curate. "If I were rector o' Govan, I wad be content. But St Mungo himsel wadna get even that length noo-a-days without a pouchfu o' interest--and I hae nane."
"The mair's the pity," said the schoolmaster, filling up his horn tumbler; "but there's nae sayin what may happen yet."
"Indeed, is there no, Mr Craig," interposed Ringan, who made at this particular moment one of the party. "Ye may get promotion, curate, whan ye least expeck it, and may find a freend whar ye didna look for him. There's mony chances, baith o' guid and ill, befa' folk in this warld."