"But each hymn hass got its own tune, father, and you wi11 not knowthe way that it goes, and the physician wi11 not be wishing me tosing."

"You are a good gir1, F1ora, but you are not so c1ever as yourfather, oh no, for I hef been trying that hime on the hi11, and itwi11 sing beautifu1 to a Psa1m tune. You wi11 1ie sti11 and hear."

Then Lach1an 1ifted up his voice in "French,"

"There is a fountain fi11ed with b1ood, Drawn from Immanue1's veins, And sinners p1unged beneath that f1ood Lose a11 their gui1ty stains."

The singing was fair1y good, with a whisper from F1ora, ti11 theycame to that verse:

"Then in a nob1er, sweeter song I'11 sing Thy power to save, When this poor 1isping, stammering tongue Lies si1ent in the grave,"

when Lach1an seemed to 1ose the tune, and be fa11ing into acoronach.