Page:The Folk-Lore Journal Volume 3 1885.djvu/279

Rh you as lang as you were livin." " Weel," she said, "I'll jist dee that t' you," an so she pat in a' her siller an a' her pyouter into the saick an him in amon't, an tied the moo o't wi a bleedy puthin, an geed t' the wid, an cam hame wi a stick. Bit fin she wiz awa, he cam oot o' the saick, an took a' the siller an a' the pyouter, an he pat in the cat an the dog. An she cam hame an her stick thegeether (together), an she laid o' them, an the dog bow-wowt, an the cat myawvt, bit she said she sud gar'im bow-wow an myawve tee (too) afore she leet 'im oot o' that.

The two foregoing tales were told me by Mrs. Scott, a small farmer's wife at present living in the parish of Pitsligo, but originally from Aberdour, an adjoining parish; she is over seventy years of age.

The tale of "the Deukie and the Tod," given me by the Misses Robertson, who till some years ago had a boarding school in Fraserburgh, but who are natives of Banff, and learned the tale there, is unfortunately imperfect at the beginning, which has escaped their memory.

The deukie swypit her hoosie, an she fan a penny, an she geed t' the toon' and bocht a kettlie, an she met the tod. The tod cam t' the door o' her hoosie ae nicht' an said, "Deukie, deukie! are ye in?"

"Ay," said the deukie. "Lat me in," said the tod. Bit the deukie widna lat 'im in. "Fahr are ye gyain the morn?" "Till a bonnie rig o' corn." "Tell me," said the tod, "an a'll gyang wi you." Bit the deukie didna tell the tod.

The tod cam the neest nicht t' door o' the deukie's hoosie at even, an said, "Deukie, deukie, are ye in?" "Ay," said the deukie. "Fahr are ye gyain the morn?" "Till a bonnie rig o' bere." "Tell me, an a'll gyang wi you." Bit the deukie did na tell him.

An the tod cam anither time, an said, "Deukie, deukie, are ye in?" "Ay," said the deukie. "Fahr are ye gyain the morn?" "Till a bonnie rig o' peys (peas)." "Tell me, an a'll gyang wi you." But, the deukie didna tell him.