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MacDonald, George, 1824-1905

"Malcolm"


"No, no," he said, almost impatiently, "you will never be in the
grave: it is only your body that will go there, with nothing like
life about it except the smile the glad soul has left on it. The
poor body when thus forsaken is so dead that it can't even stop
smiling. Get Malcolm to read to you out of the book of the Revelation
how there were multitudes even then standing before the throne.
They had died in this world, yet there they were, well and happy."
"Oh, yes!" said Duncan, with no small touch of spitefulness in his
tone, "--twang twanging at teir fine colden herps! She'll not be
thinking much of ta herp for a music maker! And peoples tells her
she'll not pe hafing her pipes tere! Och hone! Och hone!--She'll
chust pe lying still and not pe ketting up, and when ta work is ofer,
and eferypody cone away, she'll chust pe ketting up, and taking a
look apout her, to see if she'll pe finding a stand o' pipes that
some coot highlandman has peen left pehint him when he tied lately."
"You'll find it rather lonely--won't you?"
"Yes; no toubt, for they'll aal be cone up. Well, she'll haf her
pipes; and she could not co where ta pipes was looked town upon by
all ta creat people--and all ta smaal ones too."
They had now reached the foot of the promontory, and turned
northwards, each of his companions taking an arm of the piper to
help him over the rocks that lay between them and the mouth of the
cave, which soon yawned before them like a section of the mouth of
a great fish.


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