THE SKIPPER'S FRIGHT.

As aw was gannen out yen neet,— It happen'd in the dark, man,— A chep cam up ga' me a freet, 'Twas little Skipper Clark, man: His fyece was white as ony clout, Says aw, what hae ye been about? He gyep'd at me, and gav a shout, O Dick, I've seen the Deil, man! Awd Nick had twee great goggle eyes, And horns upon his heed, man, He had a gob,—aye, sic a size, It flay'd me near to deed, man! His eyes were like twee burning coals, His mouth like one o' wor pit-holes, His horns were like twee crooked poles,— Aw'm sure it was the Deil, man! Aw'd often heard wor preacher tell That Awd Nick had twee club-feet,— Thinks aw, aw'll ken the neet mysel', Whether wor preacher's wrang or reet: With that aw gav a luik about— The club-feet was there without a doubt; And just wi' that he gav a shout— And aw'm sure it was the Deil, man. Od smash! says aw, aw've often heard About this mighty Deil, man,— Shew me the place where he appear'd, For aw'd like to see him weel, man? Then Dick he tuik me to the place, Where he had seen his awful fyece— And still he swore it was the case, That he had seen the Deil, man. Alang wi' Dick aw hitch'd about To see this mighty Deil, man, When just with that Dick gav a shout— Luik there! thou'll see him weel, man; But when of him aw'd got a view, Aw laugh'd till aw was black and blue, For it was nought but a great black cow That Dick tuik for the Deil, man.