TOM PURDIE GETS A FLEG 211 



sae that the light might be at the best when we 

 came foment it. Sandy held the light weel ; his 

 eyn were glenting in his head wi' eagerness ; and 

 just when we cam to the tail o' the redd, I saw the 

 muckle kipper lyin' like a flain wedder. I had, as 

 I thought, the advantage on my side, for the brae 

 was three or four feet aboon the water, and I strack 

 him wi' a* my pith. Whither the mid grain had 

 stracken him on the back fin, I took nae time then 

 to consider ; but the fourteen pund waster stottit 

 off his back as if he had been a bag o' wool. 



" A cauld sweet cam' owre me, an' I believe every 

 hair on my body crap. I was dead sure it was the 

 deil himsel' that had been permitted to throw him- 

 sel' in my way for breaking the Sabath ! For I had 

 begun to tye up the lights as soon as I shook up the 

 callant ; an' it was hardly twal o'clock. I pu'd the 

 burnin' light out o' his hand, and dash'd it in the 

 Queed, threw him on my back as fast as I could, an' 

 was hardly able to stilt the water again for vera 

 dread. 



' I needna' say we were soon in our beds ; and 

 I took the callant in aside me, for he was to the full 

 as feard, poor fellow, as I was an' mair. For when 

 I got time, an' turn'd calm eneugh to consider, I 

 began to see it could na weel be auld clutie, for I 

 could mind o' seein' the verra een, an' gib an' teeth 

 and the gapin' mouth o' the kipper. And by and 

 by, I cam' to be certain sure it was neither mair 

 nor less than the big monster I had seen i' daylight. 

 Sae wi' that settlement there cam' the question ; 

 how could I get another chance ? a weel, I lay still 



