RAB AND HIS FRIENDS.

same large, heavy, menacing, combative,
sombre, honest countenance, the same
deep, inevitable eye, the same look—as of
thunder asleep, but ready—neither a dog
nor a man to be trifled with.

Next day, my master, the surgeon, ex-
amined Ailie. There was no doubt it
must kill her, and soon. It could be re-
moved—it might never return—it would
give her speedy relief—she should have it
done. She curtsied, looked at James, and
said, “When?” “To-morrow,” said the
kind surgeon—a man of few words. She
and James and Rab and I retired. I no-
ticed that he and she spoke little, but

as a physician, a divine, a scholar, and a gentleman live only in
the memory of those few who knew and survive him, liked to
tell how Mr. Fuller used to say that when he was in the pulpit
and saw a duirdly man come along the passage, he would in-
stinctively draw himself up, measure his imaginary antagonist,
and forecast how he would deal with him, his hands, meanwhile,
condensing into fists, and tending to ‘‘square.” He must have
been a hard hitter if he boxed as he preached—what ‘ The
Fancy” would call an “ ugly customer.”

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