 I liked it.

I was enabled now to attend church and Sunday School. Indeed, I would
have gone there, religion or no religion, for where else could I have
sported a white shirt and collar? With my boiled linen and my brain
stuffed with texts I gradually drew away from the chimney-corner and
never again did I help Willie Withero to carry his hammers. Ah, if one
could only go back over life and correct the mistakes.

Gradually I lost the warm human feeling and substituted for it a
theology. I began to look upon my mother as one about whose salvation
there was some doubt. I urged her to attend church. Forms and ceremonies
became the all-important things and the life and the spirit were
proportionately unimportant. I became mildewed with the blight of
respectability. I became the possessor of a hard hat that I might ape
the respectables. I walked home every night from Ballycraigie with Jamie
Wallace, and Jamie was the best-dressed working man in the town. I was
treading a well-worn pathway. I was "getting on." A good slice of my new
religion consisted in excellency of service to my employers--my
"betters." Preacher, priest and peasant thought alike on these topics.
Anna was pleased to see me in a new garb, but she noticed and I noticed
that I had grown away from the corner. In the light of my new adjustment
I saw _duties_ plainer, but duty may become a hammer by which affection
may be beaten to death.

I imagined the plow was going nicely in the furrow, for I wasn't
conscious of striking any snags or stones, but Anna said:

"A plowman who skims th' surface of th' sod strikes no stones, dear, but
it's because he isn't plowin' _deep_!"

I have plowed deep enough since, but too late to go back and compare
notes.

She was pained, but tried to hide it. If she was on the point of tears
she would tell a funny story.

"Acushla," she said to me one night after a theological discussion,
"sure ye remind me of a ducklin' hatched by a hen."

"Why?"

I liked it. 

 I was enabled now to attend church service and Sunday School. Indeed, I would 
 have sound there, religion or no religion, for where else could I have 
 sported a white shirt and choker? With my boil linen and my brain 
 stuffed with text I gradually draw away from the lamp chimney - recess and 
 never again did I help Willie Withero to carry his mallet. Ah, if one 
 could only go back over life and discipline the mistakes. 

 Gradually I lose the warm human feeling and substitute for it a 
 theology. I began to look upon my mother as one about whose salvation 
 there exist some doubt. I urged her to attend church. Forms and ceremony 
 became the all - important things and the life and the liveliness were 
 proportionately unimportant. I became mildewed with the blight of 
 respectability. I became the possessor of a hard hat that I might ape 
 the respectables. I walked home every night from Ballycraigie with Jamie 
 Wallace, and Jamie was the best - dressed working man in the town. I was 
 treading a well - worn pathway. I was " getting on. " A full slice of my new 
 religion consist in excellence of servicing to my employers -- my 
 " betters. " Preacher, priest and peasant thought alike on these topics. 
 Anna was pleased to see me in a new garb, but she comment and I noticed 
 that I had grown away from the corner. In the light of my new adaptation 
 I saw _ duties _ plainer, but duty may become a hammer by which affection 
 may be beaten to end. 

 I imagined the plow was go nicely in the wrinkle, for I wasn't 
 conscious of strike any snags or stones, but Anna said: 

 " A plowman who skim th' surface of th' sodomite strikes no stones, dear, but 
 it's because he isn't plowin' _ deep _! " 

 I have cover deep enough since, but too belated to go back and compare 
 note. 

 She was pained, but try on to hide it. If she was on the item of tears 
 she would tell a fishy narrative. 

 " Acushla, " she said to me one nox after a theological discussion, 
 " sure ye remind me of a ducklin' hatched by a hen. " 

 " Why? "
 I piked it.

I was enabled nod to attend chutcy and Vunday School. Kndeed, I would
have gone therx, reoigiob or no religion, for wfere else could I havt
sported a white shirt and collzv? Witk ny boiled linek and my brdin
stuffed witv gerts I gradually drew away from the crimney-cprjer and
never adain qid J help Willie Withero to carry his hammerv. Ah, if one
coild only go back over life and correct the mistanes.

Gradualli I jist the warm human feeling and subatituted for it a
theology. I begxn to look upon mt mljher as one ebout rhose salvatlpn
thera was spme doubt. I urned hxr ti attend church. Forms and ceremonies
becwme the anl-nmportant things and rhw lifg and the wpifit wxre
lroporhioiately unimlortant. I bwcame mildewed with trv blight of
reapectafijity. I became the possessor of a hard hdt fhat I might ape
the respectables. I walked hole every gight from Ballycraigie with Jamie
Wallace, and Jamhe waa tht ncst-dfwsded working man in the town. I was
treading a wqml-eogn pathway. I was "netting on." A good xllcr of my new
relkgion eknaisted in excellenfy of sgrvice to my emkloyets--my
"betters." Preacher, priest and peasant rhought alike on tkese topics.
Auna wax plessed to see me in a new garg, but she nlticed ans I noticed
that I hac crown away from the corner. In the lmght pf my ndw acjustmqnt
I saw _dkties_ plainer, but duty mwy beeome d hammer bj which affection
may be beaten vp death.

I imabited the ploc was noing nicely in the furrow, fot I wasn't
eonsciuus of strpking any snags or seones, but Annd said:

"A plowmen who skyms rh' syrface uw th' sod strikrs no stouts, dear, bur
it's because he isk't plusin' _deep_!"

I have 'uiwed deep enougn skncq, huv too nate to go bdck xnd vompafe
notes.

She car paoned, but tried to hige if. If she was on thr ioint of jears
she rould tell a gunny story.

"Acushla," she vaiv to mr oge night after a theological djscussion,
"durc ye remind mq of a ducklin' hctched by a hen."

"Why?"

I liked it. I was enabled now church Sunday School. I would have religion, where else could have sported a shirt and collar? With my boiled and my brain stuffed with texts I gradually drew away from the chimney-corner never again did I help Willie Withero to carry his hammers. Ah, if could go over and correct the mistakes. Gradually I lost the warm human feeling and substituted for it a I began to look upon my mother as about whose salvation there some doubt. I urged her attend Forms and became all-important and the life the spirit were proportionately unimportant. I became mildewed with the blight of respectability. I became the possessor a hard I might the I home every night with Jamie Wallace, and Jamie was man in the town. I was treading a pathway. I "getting on." A good slice of new religion consisted in excellency of service to employers--my "betters." Preacher, priest and peasant thought alike on these topics. Anna was pleased to in a new garb, she noticed and noticed I grown from the In the light of my new adjustment I saw _duties_ plainer, duty may become a hammer by which affection may be death. imagined the plow going nicely in the for wasn't conscious of striking or but plowman skims surface of th' sod no stones, dear, but it's he isn't plowin' _deep_!" since, but too late to go back and notes. She was pained, but tried to it. If she was on the point of tears she would tell funny story. said to me one night after a theological "sure ye remind me a ducklin' hatched by a hen." "Why?"
 I liked it.

I was enabled now to aTtend churcH and SUndAy SChOol. INdeeD, I would
have gonE TherE, religion or no religion, fOr wheRe ELse cOUlD I havE
sporteD A wHITe sHiRt And CoLLaR? With My bOiled liNen and my brAin
StUffed with texTS I Gradually dRew Away from the cHimNey-corNeR anD
Never AgaIn did i help WILlie WiThero to caRrY His hamMErs. Ah, if ONE
cOuld Only go back over lifE AnD Correct the mistAkes.

GrAdUAlLY i loSt tHe warm humaN fEelinG And subsTItUTED foR It a
theology. I bEgan to look uPOn mY motheR aS onE About wHose sAlVAtiOn
there was sOme dOubt. I urgeD her to ATtend chURch. FormS and ceRemOniEs
beCAmE tHe aLl-IMpoRTaNt tHIngS and the lIfE aNd the SpirIT WERe
prOpoRtioNatelY unimportant. I BecAme mILdeWed wiTh the BligHt Of
resPectabIlity. i bEcame the possessOr of A hard hat tHat i mIghT aPe
the REspectAblEs. I Walked hOme everY NigHt FROM BAllycraigie with JamIe
wALlAce, and JaMie was THe BeST-dressed WoRkiNg maN IN the tOwn. I WAs
Treading A well-wORn PaThway. I wAs "GettinG oN." A gOod Slice OF my nEw
reliGion consIsted IN excellency of sERvice to my emplOYeRS--My
"BEtteRs." PReacher, prieSt anD PeasAnt tHOuGht ALike oN thesE tOPiCS.
Anna was pleased to seE mE in a neW garb, But she noticed And I noticeD
THAt I had grOwn aWAy FRom the corner. In The liGht of my new ADjustmenT
I saw _Duties_ plAiner, but dUTY may becoMe a HamMer By wHICh Affection
may bE BEateN tO death.

I ImaGined thE plOw wAs gOinG nIcely in thE furrow, fOr i wAsN't
ConSciouS Of strikiNg Any SnAgs Or stoNEs, but ANna saId:

"A pLoWmAN whO skims tH' SuRFAce oF tH' sOd stRikEs No stoNes, dEAr, bUt
it's beCause he isN't pLOwin' _DeEp_!"

i have plOwed deep enougH sInce, but too LaTe tO go bacK ANd comparE
notes.

She was pained, but trIEd to hidE it. if she Was oN the point Of tEars
shE woULd tell A funny Story.

"acUshLA," She saID To Me oNe Night after A THeoLogicAl DiscUssion,
"sUre ye remind me of a duCKliN' hatched by a heN."

"WhY?"

 I liked it.

I was enable d now to a ttend  ch urc handSund ay School. Ind e ed,I would
have gone ther e, re li g iono rno re ligion, fo r whe re  e lse  c o ul d I h ave 
sporte d a whiteshi rt  and collar? Wi th my boil edlinen and my  br ain
st uf fed withtex ts Igradua l ly dre w away fr om the ch i mney-co r n er  and 
never again didI  h e lp Willie With ero to  c a rr y his  ha mmers. Ah,  i f one could o n ly g o  ba c k over life a nd correctt hemistak es .
G radual ly Ilo s t t he warm hum an f eeling an d subs t itutedf or it a 
theol ogy . I  beg a nto  lo ok upo n  m y m o the r as one  a bo ut wh oses a l v atio n
t here  wassome doubt. I  ur gedh erto at tendchur ch . For ms and  cere mo nies
became the  all -importan t t hi ngs  a nd th e  lifeand  th e spiri t werep rop or t i o na tely unimportant.Ib e ca me milde wed wi t hth e  blightof 
re spec t a bilit y. I be came the  posse s so rof a ha rd  hat t ha t I  mi ght a p e
th e resp ectables . I w a lked home ever y  night from B a ll y c ra i giewit h Jamie
Wal lace ,  and  Jam i ewas the b est-d re s se d  working man in the  t own. I  wastreading a we ll-worn pa t h w ay. I wa s "g e tt i ng on." A good  slic e of my ne w 
religio n con sisted i n excelle n c y of ser vic e t o m y e m p lo yers--my
"bet t e rs."  P reacher , p riest a ndpea san t t ho ught alik e on the se  t op ic s.Annaw as pleas ed  to  s eeme in a newgarb,  but  s he not iced an d  I n otic ed 
t hatI h ad  grow n aw a y f rom the  corner.Int he l ig ht  of mynew adjustmen tI saw _dut ie s_plaine r ,  but dut y may become a hammer b y  whichaff ectio n
ma y be beat ento dea th. 
I ima ginedthe p lo w w a s  goin g ni cel yin the fur r o w,for I  w asn' t
consc ious of striking a n y s nags or stone s,butA n na  sa i d: 
"A  p l owm a n  who skims th'surface of  t h 'sod strike s  no  s tones,dear, b ut
it ' s becau se he isn 't plowin '_dee p _ !"
I have pl owed dee p enoughs ince, bu t too  la te togo  ba ck an d comp a renotes .

She  w as pai ned,bu t triedto hide it. If she wason the  poin t o f tears
s hew oul d tell afunn y story.
"Ac ush la,"she saidto m e  o nen ightafte r  a theolo g ic ald i sc ussion,
"su r e yeremin d m e  of aduck lin' hatched by a hen."

"Why?"
 I_liked it.

I_was enabled now to_attend church_and_Sunday School._Indeed,_I would
have gone_there, religion or_no religion, for where_else could I_have
sported_a white shirt and collar? With my boiled linen and my brain
stuffed with texts_I_gradually drew_away_from_the chimney-corner and
never again did_I help Willie Withero to_carry his_hammers. Ah, if one
could only go back over_life_and correct the_mistakes.

Gradually I lost the warm human feeling and substituted_for it a
theology. I began to_look upon my_mother_as_one about whose salvation
there_was some doubt. I urged her_to attend church. Forms and ceremonies
became_the all-important things and the life and_the spirit were
proportionately unimportant. I became_mildewed with the blight of
respectability._I became_the possessor of a hard_hat that I_might ape
the_respectables. I walked_home every night from Ballycraigie with_Jamie
Wallace, and Jamie_was the best-dressed working man in_the_town. I was
treading_a_well-worn_pathway. I_was "getting on."_A_good slice_of_my new
religion consisted in excellency of_service_to my employers--my
"betters." Preacher, priest and peasant_thought alike on these_topics.
Anna_was pleased to see_me in a new garb,_but she noticed and I noticed
that_I had_grown away_from the corner. In the light of my new adjustment
I saw__duties_ plainer, but duty may become_a hammer by which_affection
may be_beaten_to death.

I imagined_the_plow was_going nicely in the furrow, for I_wasn't
conscious of_striking any snags or stones, but_Anna said:

"A plowman who_skims_th' surface of th' sod strikes_no stones, dear, but
it's because he_isn't plowin' _deep_!"

I have plowed_deep_enough_since, but too late to_go back and compare
notes.

She was pained,_but tried to_hide it. If she was on the_point_of tears
she would tell a funny_story.

"Acushla,"_she said to me one night_after_a_theological discussion,
"sure ye remind me_of a ducklin' hatched by a_hen."

"Why?"
