Page:Storys of The bewitched fiddler (1).pdf/20

 finishing stitch had been put to the great work of life, and the thread of his existence cut through. In the other world, to his misfortune, he found things not moving so comfortably as he would have wished, and the Old Gentleman with the short horns and the long tail, rigged out in his best suit of black, was the first friend he forgathered with after passing the border. 'There’s a fine morning,' said the wily old dog, 'how do you find yourself after long travel?' 'No that weel,' stammered out the half dead son of a goose, 'no that weel, and I dinna think, all things considered, it would benefit me much to be found in such company—'no offence to your Reverence,' as he saw his new friend’s collar rise, 'no offence to your Reverence, I trust, but if I may be so bold, I would thank you to tell me the reason of my being here; and, above all, who’s to be thankit for the honour of an introduction to your Reverence?' 'That you will know shortly, friend—nay, John Hetherington, for you see I know you;' and taking a large parcel from below his left arm, he commenced to unroll it, and to the astonishment of poor John, unfolded a long sheet of patchwork, in which were found scraps of every hue—a web of many colours—all neatly stitched together; and in the middle, by way of a set off, a large bit of most