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Updated: June 26, 2025
'Deil's in the fiddler lad, was muttered from more quarters than one 'saw folk ever sic a thing as a shame-faced fiddler before? At length a venerable Triton, seconding his remonstrances with a hearty thump on my shoulder, cried out, 'To the floor to the floor, and let us see how ye can fling the lasses are a' waiting.
'Had we never loved so kindly, Had we never loved so blindly! Never met or never parted, We had ne'er been broken-hearted. Another song of a different kind, The Deil's awa wi' the Exciseman, had its origin in a raid upon a smuggling brig that had got into shallow water in the Solway.
"Her ladyship wad gi'e hersel' sma' concern gien the haill bilin' o' ye war whaur ye cam frae," returned the factor. "An' for the toon here, the fowk kens the guid o' a quaiet caus'ay ower weel to lament the loss o' ye." "The deil's i' the man!" cried the Partaness in high scorn.
There's no ane in Bewcastle would do the like o' that now; we be a' true folk now. 'Ay, Tib, that will be when the deil's blind; and his een's no sair yet. But hear ye, gudewife, I have been through maist feck o' Galloway and Dumfries-shire, and I have been round by Carlisle, and I was at the Staneshiebank Fair the day, and I would like ill to be rubbit sae near hame, so I'll take the gate.
'Od, Captain, this is a queer place! they winna let ye out in the day, and they winna let ye sleep in the night. Deil, but it wad break my heart in a fortnight. But, Lordsake, what a racket they're making now! Od, I wish we had some light. Wasp, Wasp, whisht, hinny; whisht, my bonnie man, and let's hear what they're doing. Deil's in ye, will ye whisht?
"If that's all you have to complain of, Alan, it's no such great affair," said I. "And it sets me ill to be complaining, whatever," said he, "and me but new out of yon deil's haystack." "And so you were unco weary of your haystack?" I asked. "Weary's nae word for it," said he. "I'm not just precisely a man that's easily cast down; but I do better with caller air and the lift above my head.
"I dinna ken," said Jenny, after a moment's consideration, "unless it be Guse Gibbie; and he'll maybe no ken the way, though it's no sae difficult to hit, if he keep the horse-road, and mind the turn at the Cappercleugh, and dinna drown himsell in the Whomlekirn-pule, or fa' ower the scaur at the Deil's Loaning, or miss ony o' the kittle steps at the Pass o' Walkwary, or be carried to the hills by the whigs, or be taen to the tolbooth by the red-coats."
What for ir ye persecutin' a servant o' the Lord's that gate, an' pitting the life out o' him wi' his head down an' his heels up?" "Had ye said a servant o' the Deil's, Nans, ye wad hae been nearer the nail, for gin he binna the Auld Ane himsel, he's gayan sib till him.
I feel like the man with the poker was a-comin'." Joe Johnson gave him the jug and held it up, and the boy drank like one desperate. "How the young jagger lushes his jockey," the tall man muttered. "He's in Job's dock to-day. I'll take no more. A bloody fool I was all yesterday, an' oaring with my picture-frame. What place is this?" "Deil's Island, sir." "Ha! so it is.
"That shall they never, I trow," echoed Mause; "castaways are they ilk ane o' them besoms of destruction, fit only to be flung into the fire when they have sweepit the filth out o' the Temple whips of small cords, knotted for the chastisement of those wha like their warldly gudes and gear better than the Cross or the Covenant, but when that wark's done, only meet to mak latchets to the deil's brogues."
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