Horses by the wayside neighed at his approach, and stretched out their velvet muzzles to be stroked.

Dogs insisted upon sitting on his knees, unless quite prevented by their size, and then they put their paws on his chest.

Hillocks was utterly scandalised by his collie's familiarity with the minister, and brought him to his senses by the application of a boot, but Carmichael waived all apologies.

"Rover and I made friends two days ago on the road, and my clothes will take no injury." And indeed they could not, for Carmichael, except on Sundays and at funerals, wore a soft hat and suit of threadbare tweeds, on which a microscopist could have found traces of a peat bog, moss of dykes, the scale of a trout, and a tiny bit of heather.
[Illustration: Carmichael had taken his turn.] His usual fortune befell him that day in Muirtown Station, for two retrievers, worming their way through the luggage, reached him, and made known their wants.
"Thirsty?
I believe you.

All the way from England, and heat enough to roast you alive.