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Updated: May 18, 2025
Nae doubt they burn for it in muckle hell, but they have a grand time here of it, whatever! and the Lord forgie us! Weel, at the hinder end, we saw the wee flag yirk up to the mast-held upon the harbour rocks. That was a' Sandie waited for. He up wi' the gun, took a deleeberate aim, an' pu'd the trigger. There cam' a bang and then ae waefu' skirl frae the Bass.
It was joy was in the creature's heart; the joy o' hell, I daursay: joy whatever. Nae doubt they burn for it in muckle hell, but they have a grand time here of it, whatever! and the Lord forgie us! Weel, at the hinder end, we saw the wee flag yirk up to the mast-heid upon the harbour rocks. That was a' Sandie waited for. He up wi' the gun, took a deleeberate aim, an' pu'd the trigger.
All the party ran forward to see what had become of Jock, whose song had come to so swift a close. Out of the black mass of down-fallen peat there came a strange, pleading voice. "O guid deil, O kind deil, dinna yirk awa' puir Jock to that ill bit puir Jock, that never yet did ye ony hairm, but aye wished ye weel! Lat me aff this time, braw deil, an' I'll sing nae mair ill gangs aboot ye!"
It was joy was in the creature's heart, the joy o' hell, I daursay: joy whatever. Nae doubt they burn for it muckle in hell, but they have a grand time here of it, whatever! and the Lord forgie us! Weel, at the hinder end, we saw the wee flag yirk up to the mast- heid upon the harbour rocks. That was a' Sandie waited for. He up wi' the gun, took a deleeberate aim, an' pu'd the trigger.
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