Page:Satan's warehouse door, or, Water Willie's new mode of purifying his hands.pdf/10

10 Then I beheld the Service-room,

Black, horrible, and dusky,

Wi’ bleezes mingling wi’ the gloom,

That look’d like lowan whiskey;

And'warkmanship o’ blackest grain,

Wi’ twa three chosen swatches,

That, faith! for some o’ Satan’s ain,

Was even mair than matches;

The fleecing sheers were also there,

Besides the screw and grunstane,

Wi’ Satan, in an easy chair,

O het an’ lowan brunstane,

His under strappers at his lug,

Gleg on the watch were station’d.

Each, like a true Rat-catcher’s dog.

As nimble as impatient.

The grand procession, snug and tight,

Were in the lobby ranged.

And Satan at the pleasing sight,

Frae black to blacker changed.—

O Willy, were na ye a fool

Although ye dinna think it,

Your Colleagues made o’ you a tool,

To echo what they clinket—