But for to meet the deil her lane,
She pat but little faith in:
She gies the herd a pickle nits,
And twa red-cheekit apples,

To watch, while for the barn she sets,
In hopes to see Tam Kipples
That vera night.

22 She turns the key wi' cannie thraw,
And owre the threshold ventures;
But first on Sawnie gies a ca',

Syne bauldly in she enters;
A ratton rattled up the wa',

And she cried, L- preserve her!
And ran through midden-hole an' a',
And pray'd wi' zeal an' fervour,

Fu' fast that night.

23 They hoy't out Will, wi' sair advice;
They hecht him some fine braw ane;
It chanced the stack he faddom'd thrice,1
Was timmer propt for thrawin';
IIe taks a swirlie auld moss-oak,
For some black, grousome carlin';
And loot a winze, and drew a stroke,
Till skin in blypes came haurlin'
Aff's nieves that night.

24 A wanton widow Leezie was,

As cantie as a kittlin';

wind. Repeat it three times; and the third time an apparition will pass through the barn, in at the windy door, and out at the other, having both the figure in question, and the appearance or retinue marking the employment or station in life.-B.-'Faddom'd thrice:' take an opportunity of going unnoticed, to a bear-stack, and fathom it three times round. The last fathom of the last time you will catch in your arms the appearance of your future conjugal yoke-fellow.-B.

But, och that night, amang the shaws,
She got a fearfu' settlin'!

She through the whins, an' by the cairn,
An' owre the hill gaed scrievin',
Whare three lairds' lands met at a burn,1
To dip her left sark-sleeve in,

Was bent that night.

25 Whyles owre a linn the burnie plays,
As through the glen it wimplet;
Whyles round a rocky scaur it strays;
Whyles in a wiel it dimplet;
Whyles glitter'd to the nightly rays,

Wi' bickering, dancing dazzle ;
Whyles cookit underneath the braes,
Below the spreading hazel,

Unseen that night.

26 Amang the brackens, on the brae,
Between her and the moon,

The deil, or else an outler quey,
Gat up and gae a croon;
Poor Leezie's heart maist lap the hool;

Near lav'rock height she jumpit,

But mist a fit, an' in the pool

Outowre the lugs she plumpit,

Wi' a plunge that night.

Met at a burn:' you go out, one or more, for this is a social spell, to a south running spring or rivulet, where three lairds' lands meet,' and dip your left shirt sleeve. Go to bed in sight of a fire, and hang your wet sleeve before it to dry. Lie awake; and, some time near midnight, an apparition, having the exact figure of the grand object in question, will come and turn the sleeve, as if to dry the other side of it.-B.

27 In order, on the clean hearth-stane,
The luggies three 1 are ranged,

And every time great care is ta'en
To see them duly changed;
Auld uncle John, wha wedlock's joys
Sin' Mar's-year did desire,

Because he gat the toom dish thrice,

He heaved them on the fire

In wrath that night.

28 Wi' merry sangs, and friendly cracks,
I wat they did na wearie;
And unco tales, and funnie jokes,

Their sports were cheap and cheeric;
Till butter'd so'ns,2 wi' fragrant lunt,
Set a' their gabs a-steerin';
Syne, wi' a social glass o' strunt,
They parted aff careerin'

Fu' blithe that night.

''Luggies three:' take three dishes; put clean water in one, foul water in another, leave the third empty; blindfold a person, and lead him to the hearth where the dishes are ranged; he (or she) dips the left hand, if by chance in the clean water, the future husband or wife will come to the bar of matrimony a maid; if in the foul, a widow; if in the empty dish, it foretells, with equal certainty, no marriage at all. It is repeated three times, and every time the arrangement of the dishes is altered.-B.-2 Butter'd so'ns: ' sowens, with butter instead of milk to them, is always the Hallowe'en supper.-B.

6

THE AULD FARMER'S NEW-YEAR MORNING

SALUTATION

TO HIS AULD MARE MAGGIE, ON GIVING HER THE

ACCUSTOMED RIPP OF CORN TO HANSEL IN THE
NEW-YEAR.

A GUID new-year I wish thee, Maggie !
Hae, there's a ripp to thy auld baggie :
Though thou's howe-backit now, and knaggie,
I've seen the day

Thou could hae gaen like ony staggie
Outowre the lay.

2 Though now thou's dowie, stiff, an' crazy,
And thy auld hide 's as white's a daisy,
I've seen thee dapplet, sleek, and glaizie,
A bonnie gray :

He should been tight that daur't to raise thee,
Ance in a day.

3 Thou ance was i' the foremost rank,
A filly buirdly, steeve, an' swank,
And set weel down a shapely shank,
As e'er tread yird;

And could hae flown outowre a stank,
Like ony bird.

4 It's now some nine-an'-twenty year,
Sin' thou was my guid father's meare';
He gied me thee, o' tocher clear,
An' fifty mark;

Though it was sma', 'twas weel-won gear,
An' thou was stark.

5 When first I gaed to woo my Jenny,
Ye then was trottin' wi' your minny :
Though ye was trickie, slee, an' funnie,
Ye ne'er was donsie ;

But hamely, tawie, quiet, an' cannie,
And unco sonsie.

6 That day ye pranced wi' muckle pride,
When ye bure hame my bonnie bride:
And sweet an' gracefu' she did ride,
Wi' maiden air!

Kyle Stewart I could braggèd wide
For sic a pair.

7 Though now ye dow but hoyte and hobble,
And wintle, like a saumont-coble,
That day ye was a jinker noble,

For heels an' win'!

And ran them till they a' did wauble,
Far, far behin'.

8 When thou an' I were young and skeigh,
And stable-meals at fairs were dreigh,
How thou wad prance, an' snore, an' skreigh,
And tak the road!

Town's bodies ran, and stood abeigh,

And ca't thee mad.

9 When thou was corn't, an' I was mellow, We took the road aye like a swallow: At brooses thou had ne'er a fellow

For pith and speed;

But every tail thou pay't them hollow,
Where'er thou gaed.

'Broose:' a race at a wedding, see 'Hogg's Tales,' passim.