Close by there was a church with a manse. It seemed out of keeping with all the rest of the place, for it looked new. It had an air of freshness about it, and belonged to the Free Church of Scotland. The minister was quite a young man and a friend of Mr. and Mrs. Fargus. He came much to the house, and the children knew him, so that we often found him rambling about with them. His housekeeper used to be his nurse when he was a child. We went to the manse often. The minister was the Rev. Dr. James Oswald Dykes, and he came out to Australia many years ago. The church in Eastkillbride was his first appointment. His fame as a preacher and a good man spread all about. The way he filled that church with the scattered people was wonderful. He would go miles and miles after parishioners. He had a persuasiveness in his preaching, although it was homely and plain. I went to the Bible-class, and he explained things to me of which I was formerly ignorant. After months of catechising I became a member of the Free Church of Scotland. It gave me thoughts which enabled me to resolve to do the common things I had to do well, and to be happy in doing what was right.

I was in the manse one night with Mrs. Clark, his housekeeper, when he came in all wet and muddy. He had found a man and woman living together who were not married. The man was ill end likely to die, and he thought the children would be guarded from some threatening injury if the father and mother were married. The man, however, did not care what became of woman or children. He turned his face to the wall, and for a long time would not listen to the minister, but Dr. Dykes got him face-to-face with the woman and a witness, and married them while the man was still in bed. Dr. Dykes was very upset about this event. Happily, in Scotland such things are rare.

One of the maids had not been well, and Mrs. Fargus thought I might do for the house in town for a week or so, so as to let Elsie come to Killbride. The climate there was mild and healthy. The doctor arranged to dine out, so I had only to get breakfast for him and take any messages and write them on a slate. By this time I knew how to do many things neatly. The lady would come and go to see how I got on. She had not been long in one afternoon when a fearful ring came at the door. I opened it, but could see nobody. I went away, but the bell rang again. I looked over the other side of the street and saw a tattered looking sailor. He came over and asked if Elsie was in. I answered in the negative. He could hardly speak. The lady came to see what was the matter; he told her who he was. She told me to take him downstairs and get him something to eat. Then she told me that he was Elsie's sweetheart, and that Elsie had heard that he was wrecked and drowned four years before. She went in mourning for him. The ship in which he had arrived within half an hour before had also been reported a wreck. There was such excitement. Mrs. Fargus wrote to Elsie to look out for her lost lover the next day. His ship was at the Broomilaw, whence they had sailed long ago. The man had come back well off, but he was brown and rough. The next day he had other clothes and his whiskers were trimmed. Elsie had been with Mrs. Fargus for a long time, so Mrs. Fargus said that she would like her to get married there. The date was settled, and the Rev. Dr. Oswald Dykes was to perform the marriage ceremony. We had plenty to talk about, for it was the first wedding for me to see. Elsie came to town, and I went back to Eastkillbride.

Mrs. Fargus was skilled in botany and the natural history of insects as well as plants. She had a museum full of all sorts of things. While at Killbride she would take me with her to carry her things, and talk to me so nicely all the time. We went down deep dells and to all the out-of-the-way places hunting for specimens. One day, in a deep dell, she found a gooseberry bush, with large gooseberries on it quite green, although the season for the berry was over. She sat down and explained why that berry was not ripe. She said the sun had not shed its rays on that bush, as it was far down in the dell. Some birds had dropped the berry, and it grew into a bush, but the fruit would always be green and sour. She compared this with some poor people whom we visited. They were hard and sour, and she thought if their environment were more bright they would not be so sour. She meant spiritually and temporarily. It was new to me to listen to so grand a lady. She would get us all in her beautiful room and kneel down and pray and read with us. God's best blessing rest on her if she is living, or on her memory if she is dead.

It was drawing near time to go back to town, and there was Elsie's wedding to look forward to. It was a common occurrence to let the servants have a party two or three times a year. We had had one already, and the wedding was to be the next. We were to have games and dancing, and Elsie was to be married in the best drawing-room, upstairs. By this time I had seen the sailor many times and many of his relations. His home was in Dundee. The Rev. Dr. Oswald Dykes had received a call to go to a grand church in Edinburgh, but he agreed to come for the wedding. I was passionately fond of dancing, and I knew that we were to have dancing, but I thought, being a member of the church, I must not dance any more. I met Dr. Dykes in the corridor and asked him if I could dance at Elsie's wedding. He said—"Yes; by all means. Those who can dance, let them dance, and those who want to play games, let them play." Then he showed me how dancing could be made both wrong and sinful, if we went to objectionable places to gratify the pleasure of dancing. How little did I think that in so short a time I would be out here all alone, without any of this moral directing power to act upon.

So the wedding night came. Elsie looked lovely, and the sailor looked splendid. He had some trouble to get off his white kid gloves. Mr. and Mrs. Fargus, and also some of their friends, were present. The cake was cut in the drawing-room, and then brought down to the hall, where the supper was laid, and all the place was filled with plants and bunting. We kept the gaiety up all night. In the middle of the fun our master and mistress and the minister came to have a look at us. The minister said if he could dance he would have a dance with the bride, just to show that it was good recreation. Elsie had some lovely presents. The master gave her a kitchen range, while the mistress gave her a chest of drawers and a dressing-table and washstand. She had something from all. The servants from all round were kind, and we spent a good time.

After Elsie went away the nurse took the children to her own home, which she often did. They were too young for instruction, and only childish books were read for them. There were two boys and one girl, the girl being the oldest. I shall say more about them later on.

I found where the Dr. and Mrs. Reily lived, and saw them. They were well and happy. Mrs. Stirling was not in good health in Glasgow, so she was often away. I was happy anyhow, and hoped for courage to face the life that lay before me. I had a holiday, and went to Slamannan, and learned that my sister was to be married very soon, so the dresses I had for Elsie's wedding would just do. It was at New Year's time, and I was the bridesmaid. They were married at the Old Established Church of Scotland, and in the evening the snow was falling, and thick on the ground. I felt glad for my sister's sake. It was not much of a prospect, but they were young. My brother was my whole care; I did not know what my father was going to do with him. He was growing up and learning nothing. Father kept off the drink, and we all the time thought that some news would come to us from our relatives who had gone to "America." These were uncles and aunts; we had no grandparent living. For myself, I knew that I had to work hard for everything I got; but I could not see how to help my dear brother. I was afraid that my father would take him down into the pits to work. If only my mother had lived she would have put him to some useful pursuit. I suppose the mind seeks something upon which the emotions may grow as we get older. One thing I was nearer than if I had stopped in Ayrshire. I could do some things for him. There seemed no "self-help" for him.

I got back to my work again, feeling inspired with the idea that I would try and get my brother to Glasgow also. At Dr. Fargus' the Sundays were properly observed. We set aside toil for that day and were not allowed to do anything that could be avoided. Our own clothing had to be laid all ready to put on. The dinner was cooked the day before. Such peaceful days I have never had since. We went to the Rev. A. N. Sommervil's Church. It was near to the shipping part of the city, and the church and congregation were large. Other ministers would come some times. Dr. Guthrie came from Edinburgh. He was a real friend to the servant girls, and pleaded with the mistresses to be kind to their handmaids and see to their general wellbeing and the cheerfulness of their surroundings.

Dr. Thomas Guthrie was then a popular preacher. He started the ragged school movement in Edinburgh, and his efforts to suppress vice and to promote temperance made him a power on social questions. He used to hold services in the open air and in barns, or wherever people would come. While on his visits he found so many houses without a Bible or any book at all. He often stood in rooms bare of furniture, where father and mother and half-a-dozen children had to sleep, the destitution being all through drink. The stories he told were sad and true. Wherever he preached, there you would see the serving-maids and the persons of every rank in life. He had a good voice, and would sometimes describe in his sermon natural scenery, showing the wisdom of God, and that the earth is full of beauty. We had Dr. Norman Macleod, who preached to the Queen while she was at Balmoral. I could not follow his speeches like Dr. Guthrie's, although he wrote books and was the editor of "Good Words" and others, as well as a leading minister.

The misery I suffered, by reason of seeing so much of human woe and want and sin, made an old woman of me at the age of 16. I shall never forget one Sunday after church I went with some other girls to see their "district," if it could be called a district. In some instances there were foul underground cellars, where the inmates never breathed the fresh air. The children were covered with rags, and hunger reigned everywhere. This afternoon a starved-looking boy had broken a street lamp, and the policeman was taking him to the lock-up. One of the girls knew him, and asked the man how much it would cost for the lamp. If 7/6 could be found he said he would let the boy go. I told them to wait and I would get the money. I went to my mistress and to my Bible-teacher and to some others that I knew, and got the 7/6, and the boy was released, or, at least, I thought so. We took the money to the boy's mother, and told her to go to the office and get the boy back. That was on Monday evening. I went to see on my own account if the boy had got back. It was so dark that I could not find my way to the cellar. I went to a shop to buy a candle to see the underground room.

The man in the shop said, "Are you the youngster that found the 7/6 for that awful woman that lives down in that cellar?"

I said, "Yes."

"Well," he said, "that woman has been drunk ever since. She did not go for the boy, but has been quarrelsome and is making such a noise."

To my view it was sad, but not singular. I went down to the cellar and saw the sweetest and prettiest little girl I ever saw in my life stretched on the floor sleeping. There was no mother or anyone else there. I learned that the father was a sailor, and that was why. The girl was eight years old. Oh, what a picture she was as she lay calm in sleep, forgetful of her sorrows!

The daughters of well-to-do farmers and mechanics went to service to help themselves. There seemed no other way. Then through Elsie and the nurse I got to know a number of nice girls. We could come and go to each other. In different homes there were different rules. There was always plenty to be done. I know the sanitary part of the work was a study at the doctor's house. The furniture was mostly carved, and that meant some polishing. Then the wide halls and bannisters must be kept free from dust, while the fireplaces and the steel had to be kept bright. I was not old enough to have charge, but I learned how the work was done. In the winter it was hard, but I felt as if I were getting taught everything. My mind was full of hope the more I knew.

Unaware of what had happened, we went to church on a Sunday morning and found it all draped in black. The news had come that very morning that Prince Albert, the Queen's Consort, was dead. It cast a sadness over all the place, as he had been in Glasgow not long before to lay the foundation-stone of some public building.