He marches through amang the stacks,
Though he was something sturtin,
The graip he for a harrow taks,

An' haurls at his curpin:
An' every now an' then he says,
'Hemp-seed I saw thee;
An' her that is to be my lass,
Come after me an' draw thee,
As fast this night.'

He whistled up Lord Lenox' March,
To keep his courage cheery;
Although his hair began to arch,
He was sae fleyed an' eerie :
Till presently he hears a squeak,
An' then a grane an' gruntle;
He by his shouther gae a keek,
An' tumbled wi' a wintle

Out-owre that night.

He roared a horrid murder-shout,
In dreadfu' desperation!

An' young an' auld come rinnin out,
An' hear the sad narration:

He swoor 'twas hilchin Jean M'Craw,
Or crauchie Merran Humphie,
Till stop! she trotted through them a';
An' wha was it but Grumphie

Asteer that night!

Meg fain wad to the barn gaen,

To winn three wechts o' naething;*

This charm must likewise be performed unperceived, and alone. You go to the barn, and open both doors, taking them off the hinges, it possible; for there is danger that the

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 she sets,
In hopes to see Tam Kipples
That vera night.

She turns the key wi' cannie thraw,
An' owre the threshold ventures;
But first on Sawnie gies a ca',
Syne bauldly in she enters;

A ratton rattled up the wa',

An' she cried, Lord preserve her!
An' ran through midden-hole an' a'
An' prayed wi' zeal an' fervour,
Fu' fast that night.

They hoy't out Will, wi' sair advice;
They hecht him some fine braw ane;
It chanced the stack he faddomed thrice,*
Was timmer propt for thrawing;
He taks a swirlie auld moss-oak,

For some black, grousome carlin;

being about to appear may shut the doors, and do you some mischief. Then take that instrument used in winnowing the corn, which, in our country dialect, we call a 'wecht; and go through all the attitudes of letting down corn against the 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.

Take an opportunity of going, unnoticed, to a barleystack, and fathom it three times round. The last fathom of the last time you will catch in your arms the appearance of Our future conjugal yoke-fellow.

An' loot a winze, an' drew a stroke,
Till skin in blypes came haurlin
Aff's nieves that night.

A wanton widow Leezie was,
As canty as a kittlin;

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,*
To dip her left sark-sleeve in,

Was bent that night.

Whyles owre a linn the burnie plays,
As through the glen it wimpl't;
Whyles round a rocky scar it strays,
Whyles in a wiel it dimpl't;
Whyles glittered to the nightly rays,
Wi' bickering, dancing, dazzle;
Whyles cookit underneath the braes,
Below the spreading hazel,

Unseen that night.

Amang the brachens, on the brae,
Between her an' the moon,
The Deil, or else an outler quey,
Gat up an' gae a croon;

• 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.

Poor Leezie's heart maist lap the hool;
Near lav'rock height she jumpit,
But mist a fit, an' in the pool
Out-owre the lugs she plumpit,
Wi' a plunge that night.

In order, on the clean hearth-stane,
The luggies three* 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.

Wi' merry sangs, an' friendly cracks,
I wat they did na weary;

An' unco tales, an' funnie jokes,

Their sports were cheap an' cheery;
Till buttered so'ns, wi' fragrant lunt,
Set a' their gabs a-steerin';
Syne, wi' a social glass o' strunt,
They parted aff careerin'

Fu' blithe that night.

* 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.

SCOTCH DRINK.

Gie him strong drink, until he wink,
That's sinking in despair;

An' liquor guid to fire his bluid,

That's prest wi' grief an' care;
There let him bouse, an' deep carouse,
Wi' bumpers flowing o'er,

Till he forgets his loves or debts,

An' minds his griefs no more.

SOLOMON'S PROVERBS, xxxi. 6, 7.

LET other Poets raise a fracas

'Bout vines, an' wines, an' drunken Bacchus, An' crabbit names an' stories wrack us,

An' grate our lug,

I sing the juice Scots bear can mak us,
In glass or jug.

O thou, my Muse! guid auld Scotch Drink;
Whether through wimpling worms thou jink,
Or, richly brown, ream o'er the brink,

In glorious faem,

Inspire me, till I lisp and wink,

To sing thy name!

Let husky Wheat the haughs adorn,
An' Aits set up their awnie horn,
An' Pease and Beans at e'en or morn,

Perfume the plain,

Leeze me on thee, John Barleycorn,

Thou king o' grain!

On thee aft Scotland chows her cood,
In souple scones, the wale o' food;

Or tumblin' in the boiling flood

Wi' kail an' beef;

But when thou pours thy strong heart's blood,

There thou shines chief.