Page:The Folk-Lore Journal Volume 3 1885.djvu/278

270 cheer. They yokit wi ane anither, an said it some o' them hid been clashin (telling tales). The leper said it wizna him, an the lion said it wizna him. Sae the blame lichtit o' the tod, for they said he wiz aye a fool (foul) clashin brute. He hid to be smackit for devulging their seicret. They took t' smack 'im, an he ran a' wye to hide, an he cam upo' the man. "Ha, ha!" said he,

There wiz a wife, an she hid three sins, an the twa aulest geed awa t' push their fortun, an Black Brottie, the little een, he followt aifter them, an she geed t' tack 'im back, and she said, she wiz gyaain t' mack a bannockie an roast a fishie, an he wid get a bit o' a' that gehn he wid come back. Bit he widna come back, bit followt aifter them, an they took 'im an set 'im in a tree. An there cam a man bye fin he wiz sittin i' the tree, an he said: "Gehn ye wid tack me doon, I wid set you up, an ye wid see faht I see." He took 'im doon, bit he didna set 'im up, an geed aff aifter his breethirs. An they war a' lodged in ae hoose, an the wife ordert his twa breethirs t' lie wi' her ain sins, an Black Brottie t' lie wi' the dog. Sae aboot the middle o' the nicht the wife tied red threeds aboot her ain sins' necks. An syne fin it cam near mornin. Black Brottie saw faht she did, an he raise an he took aff the red threeds, an pat them aboot's ain breethirs' necks. An the wife raise aboot the dawnin o' the mornin, an cuttit the throats it hidna the red threeds, an syne fin daylicht cam in, she saw it she hid cuttit her ain sins' throats, bit she said Black Brottie wizna awa fae the hoose yet. An she said it hid been a bleedy mornin. An she said t' the umman (the female servant) t' gyang awa' t' the wall for pottage bree, an Black Brottie followt 'er, an pat 'er in 'o the wall, an the buckets abeen 'er, an he geed back again. An the wife said, "Faht wid ye dee t' me, an I hid deen t' you as ye hae deen t' me?" He said: "I wid gaither a' the siller an a' the pyouter (pewter) it's i' the hoose, an pit it intil a saick, an you in amon't, an I wid tie the moo o' the saick wi a bleedy puthin (pudding), and I wid gyang t' the wid (wood) for as big a tree as I cud trail hame, an I wid lay on