DR. DAVIDSON’S LAST CHRISTMAS
By Ian Maclaren Christmas fell on a Sunday the year Dr. Davidson died, and on…
THE PASSING OF DOMSIE
By Ian Maclaren It was an ancient custom that Domsie and Drumsheugh should dine with…
FATHER JINKS
By Ian Maclaren I When I give him this title, I am perfectly aware that…
THE COLLECTOR’S INCONSISTENCY
By Ian Maclaren There were many capable men in the session of the North Free…
AN EVANGELIST
By Ian Maclaren His private business was lard, which he bought for the rise and…
THE LAST SACRIFICE
By Ian Maclaren I Firelight casts a weird enchantment over an old-fashioned room in the…
SAVED BY FAITH
By Ian Maclaren I So you have agreed to accept seven-and-six-pence in the pound from…
THE RIGHT HAND OF SAMUEL DODSON
By IanMaclaren I Smoking, as usual, and wasting your time after luncheon, instead of hurrying…
A GOVERNMENT OFFICIAL
By Ian Maclaren Never had I met any man so methodical in his habits, so…
A PROBATIONER
By Ian Maclaren One winter I forsook the cottage at Drumtochty, in spite of the…