On being thus again thrown out of employment, their former clamour was resumed, nor could Michael Scott, with all his sagacity, devise a plan to keep them in innocent employment.  He at length discovered one.  “Go,” says he, “and manufacture me ropes that will carry me to the back of the moon, of these materials—­miller’s-sudds and sea-sand.”  Michael Scott here obtained rest from his active operators; for, when other work failed them, he always despatched them to their rope manufactory.  But though these agents could never make proper ropes of those materials, their efforts to that effect are far from being contemptible, for some of their ropes are seen by the sea-side to this day.

We shall close our notice of Michael Scott by reciting one anecdote of him in the latter part of his life.

In consequence of a violent quarrel which Michael Scott once had with a person whom he conceived to have caused him some injury, he resolved, as the highest punishment he could inflict upon him, to send his adversary to that evil place designed only for Satan and his black companions.  He accordingly, by means of his supernatural machinations, sent the poor unfortunate man thither; and had he been sent by any other means than those of Michael Scott, he would no doubt have met with a warm reception.  Out of pure spite to Michael, however, when Satan learned who was his billet-master, he would no more receive him than he would receive the Wife of Beth; and instead of treating the unfortunate man with the harshness characteristic of him, he showed him considerable civilities.  Introducing him to his “Ben Taigh,” he directed her to show the stranger any curiosities he might wish to see, hinting very significantly that he had provided some accommodation for their mutual friend, Michael Scott, the sight of which might afford him some gratification.  The polite housekeeper accordingly conducted the stranger through the principal apartments in the house, where he saw fearful sights.  But the bed of Michael Scott!—­his greatest enemy could not but feel satiated with revenge at the sight of it.  It was a place too horrid to be described, filled promiscuously with all the awful brutes imaginable.  Toads and lions, lizards and leeches, and, amongst the rest, not the least conspicuous, a large serpent gaping for Michael Scott, with its mouth wide open.  This last sight having satisfied the stranger’s curiosity, he was led to the outer gate, and came away.  He reached his friends, and, among other pieces of news touching his travels, he was not backward in relating the entertainment that awaited his friend Michael Scott, as soon as he would “stretch his foot” for the other world.  But Michael did not at all appear disconcerted at his friend’s intelligence.  He affirmed that he would disappoint all his enemies in their expectations—­in proof of which he gave the following signs:  “When I am just dead,” says he, “open my breast and extract my heart.  Carry it to some place where the public may see the result.  You will then transfix it upon a long pole, and if Satan will have my soul, he will come in the likeness of a black raven and carry it off; and if my soul will be saved it will be carried off by a white dove.”