perpetually exclaiming, "Work! work! work!" Continually annoyed by their
incessant entreaties, he called out to them in derision to go and make a
dry road from Fortrose to Arderseir, over the Moray Firth. Immediately
their cry ceased, and as Scott supposed it wholly impossible for them to
execute his order, he retired to rest, laughing most heartily at the
chimerical sort of employment he had given to his industrious workmen.
Early in the morning, however, he got up and took a walk at the break of
day down to the shore to divert himself at the fruitless labours of his
zealous workmen. But on reaching the spot, what was his astonishment to
find the formidable piece of work allotted to them only a few hours
before already nearly finished. Seeing the great damage the commercial
class of the community would sustain from the operation, he ordered the
workmen to demolish the most part of their work; leaving, however, the
point of Fortrose to show the traveller to this day the wonderful exploit
of Michael Scott's fairies.

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.