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"The Simmer had been cold an' wat,

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'An' ftuff was unco green;

An'ay a rantin kirn we gat,

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An' just on Halloween

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It fell that night.

XVI.

Our Stibble-rig was Rab M'Graen,

A clever fturdy fallow;

His Sin gat Eppie Sim wi' wean,
'That liv'd in Achmacalla:

He gat hemp-feed, I mind it weel,
An' he made unco light o't;
But monie a day was by himfel,
He was fae fairly frighted,

That vera night.

XVII.

Then up gat fechtin Jamie Fleck,

An' he fwoor by his confcience, That he could far hemp-feed a peck; :

For it was a' but nonsense:

The auld guidman raught down the pock,
An' out a hanfu gied him;

Steal out unperceived, and fow a handful of hemp-feed; harrowing it with any thing you can conveniently draw after you. Repeat, now and then, Hemp-feed I faw thee, Hempé "feed I faw thee; and him (or her) that is to be my true "love, come after me and pou thee." Look over your left fhoulder, aud you will fee the appearance of the perfon invok ed in the attitude of pulling hemp. Some traditions fay, "Come after me. and fhaw thee," that is fhow thyself; in which cafe. it fimply appears. Others omit the harrowing, and fay, 66 come after me and harrow thee,"

Syne bad him flip frae 'mang the folk,
Some time when nae ane feed him,

An' try't that night.

XVIII.

He marches thro' amang the stacks,
Tho' he was fomething turtin'
The graip he for a harrow taks,
An' haurls at his curpin:
And ev'ry now an' then, he says,
Hemp-feed I faw thee,

An' her that is to be my lafs

" come after me an' draw thee

As faft that night.'

XIX.

He whistled up Lord Lenox' march
To keep his courage cheary;

Altho' his hair began to arch,
He was fae fley'd an' eerie;
Till presently he hears a squeak,
An' then a grane an' gruntle;

He by his shouther gae a keek,

An' tumbl'd wi' a wintle

Out owre that night,

XX.

He roar'd a horrid murder-fhout,

In dreadfu' defperation!

An' young an' auld come rinnin out,

An' hear the fad narration:

He fwoor 'twas hilchin Jean M'Craw,
Or crouchie Merran Humphie,

Till ftop! fhe trotted thro' them a';
An' wha was it but Grumphie

Aftaer that night!

XXI.

Meg fain would to the Ban gaen,
To win three wechts o' naething* ;
But for to meet the Deil her lane,
She pat but little faith in: -
She gies the Herd a pickle nits,
An' twa red cheekit apples,

To watch, while for the Barn fhe fets,

In hopes to fee Tam Kipples

That vera night.

XXII.

She turns the key, wi cannie thraw,

An' ore the threshold ventures;

But firft on Sawnie gies a ca',

Syne bauldly in the enters;

*This charm must likewise be performed unperceived and alone. You go to the Barn, and open both doors, taking them off the hinges, if poffible; for there is danger, that the being about to appear, may fhut the doors, and do you some mischief, Then take that inflrumeut uled in winnowing the corn, which in our country dialect, we call a Wecht, and go th:o' all the attitudes of letting down Corn against the wind. Repeat it three times; and the third time an appa ition will pafs thro'

the Barn, in at the windy door, and out at the other, having both the figure in queftion, and the appearance of retiaue marking the employment or Station in life.

A ratton, rattl'd up the wa',

An' fhe cry'd, L-d preferve her! An' ran thro' midden-hole an' a',

And pray'd wi' zeal an fervour,

Fa' faft that night.

XXIII.

They hoy't out Will, wi' fair advice;
They hecht him some fine braw ane;
It chanc'd the Stack he faddon't thrice, *
Was timmer-propt for thrawin:
He taks a swirlie, auld moss-oak,
For fome black, groufome Carlin;
An' loot a winze, an' drew a ftroke,
Till skin in blypes cam haurlin

Aff's nieves that night.

XXIV.

A wanton widow Leezie was,

As kantie as a kittlin;

But, Och! that night, amang the fhaws,

She got a fearfu' fettlin!

She thro' the whins, 'an' by the cairn,

An' owre the hill gaed ferievin,

Take an opportunity of going, unnoticed, to a Bete-stack, and fathom it three times round. The laft fathom of the lait time, you will catch in your arms the appearance of your future Conjugal yoke-fellow.

Where three Laird's lands met at a burnTM*,

To dip her left fark-fleeve in,

Was bent that night.

XXV.

Whyles owre a linn the burnie plays,

As thro' the glen it wimpl't;
Whyles round a rocky scar it strays;
Whyles in a wiel it dimpl't;
Whyles glitter'd to the nightly raye
Wi' bickering, dancing dazzle.;
Whyles cookit underneath the braes,
Below the spreading hazzle,

Unfeen that night

XXVI.

Amang the brachens on the brae

Between her an' the moon,
The Deil, or else an outler Quay
Gat up an gied a croon :
Poor Leezie's heart maift lap the hool
Near lav'rock height the jumpit,

But mift a fit an' in the Pool

Out-owre the lugs she plumpit,

Wi' a plunge that night.

*You go out one or more, for this is a fecial fpell, toà fouth-running fpring or rivalet, where "three Laird's lands meet," and dip your left fhirt fleeve. Go to bed in fight of a fire, and hang your wet fleeve before it to dry. Lie awake; and fometime near midnight, an apparition, having the exact figure of the grand object in question, will come and turn the Aleeve, as if to dry the other side of it.

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