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Various

"Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume XXIII"

"
"Then down to the pit."
And Dudhope--even he the representative of Graham of opprobrious
memory--disappeared.
"You're all (cried Maule) like the Lady of Luss's kain eggs, every one
of which fell through the ring into the tub, and didn't count."
And so on with the rest, till there were no more to go down. Yet the
horn sounded again, for Maule was not so drunk that he did not remember
there were any more to come; but then, had he not been singing in Sandy
Morren's, "Death begone, here's none but souls?" The story goes on. The
horn having sounded, there stood forth a figure that did not belong to
this crowd of sinners. It was a woman dressed in dark clothes, with a
black bonnet, and an umbrella in her hand. How the great God can show
his power over the little god, man! The woman was no other than a Mrs.
Geddes of Lochee, who, having got a little too much at the Scouring
Burn, had, on her way home, slipped into the resting-place of her
husband, who had been buried only a week before, and having got drowsy,
had fallen asleep on the flat stone which covered him. In a half dreamy
state she had seen all this terrible mummery--no mummery to her; for she
thought it real: and as every one stood forward by name, she often said
to herself, "When will it be Johnnie's turn, poor man? for he was an
awfu' sinner; I fear the pit's owre guid for him.


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