The Little Minister

Transcribed. is brought to you by the American Railroads.

The same railroads that bring you most of the food you eat, the clothes you wear, the fuel you burn, and all the other things you use in your daily life. And now here is our star, Gordon McQuay.

Oh! Thank you, my one another, and good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Well, sir, tonight, Lawrence and Lee have joined, Sir James M. Barry's famous, the little minister, with the glorious melodies of Barry's native Scotland.

So here's another railroad hour first. Dorothy Warren's show is the tantalizing gypsy girl, Babbie, and I shall be Gavin Deshaute, the little minister. They say in Scotland that a minister should be a tall man, that when he speaks of heaven, the top of his head should be as close to it as possible.

In this connection, I was singularly unsuited for the ministry. You're not what I would call a particularly long man, Gavin, but it doesn't matter. If you stand on your tip, close in the pulpit and let the thunder roll in your throat, who will notice the longer the shot of it, my son?

I thank him, Mother. I only hope the people of Thrum's will share your views. The village of Thrum's was my first call to the pulpit, a tiny speck of a place but home to a few hundred weavers and farmers.

And as the carriage rolled along the cobble street to the minister's mansion, My mother's eyes were wet with joy. Gavin, Gavin, it's all come true. This Sabbath I'll be here in a sermon preached by my own son, God, leading.

Hi, Mother. Driver, stop here. Mr. Dishhart, I believe. I am Mr. Dishhart. May I welcome you sir to the village of Throms. My name is Thomas Wommen, one of the elders of the kelk. This is my Mother, Mr. Wommen.