Scotland/Scots > Wilson's tales of the Borders and of Scotland > Volume 3

174
TALES OF THE BORDERS.
stair o’ The Barleycorn ? I did—that’s it—I had been killed
by the fa’. Death’s a sma’ affair to this. What a fiery
furnace for a puir sinner! See hoo the devils run wi’
their burning brands, forkin them into thae pits, whar lie
craturs in the same condition wi’ mysel! But why do they
no come to me ? Ah ! the furnace is for me. I see Satan
himsel at the bellows, and it’s no for ilka sinner he wad
condescend to work. It’s for Duncan Schulebred, wha
cheated the folk by a short ellwand at the rate o’ thirty-
six inches o’ claith a-week for fifteen, years—wha drank,
and lee’d, and deceived—wha committed sins redder than
scarlet and mair numerous than the mots i’ the sun—wha
dee’d i’ the very act o’ cheating Andrew Gavin, by selling
him a wab o’ damaged linen, and leaving him to pay the
bill at The Barleycorn. Alas! am I at last in this awfu
place! ”
As he ended, he heard pronounced in a hollow voice,
by some Belphegor behind him :
“ Now, Duncan, thou wilt get thy fairin’,
For here they'll roast thee like a herrin’.’*
“ Ay, ay!” groaned Duncan.
Then a dark figure appeared before him, holding in his
hand one of the fiery globes:—“ Where,” cried he, “ is the
weaver who cheated the public at the rate of thirty-six
inches of cloth per week, and died in the very act of cheat¬
ing our special friend, Andrew Gavin the writer (for every
writer is our special friend, and must be protected by us,
so long as he writes lying defences and long memorials),
by selling him damaged linen, and leaving him to pay his
tavern bill? Where is the scarlet rcgue, that we may
burn out the red of his sins by the red fire of this glowing
furnace?”
A loud yell uttered by the Mephistophileses and Asmo-
deuses was the reply to this speech, and went to the very
heart of the devoted Duncan Schulebred. The principal,