Grant, in his _Popular Superstitions of the Highlands_, says that as soon as the brightening glow of the eastern sky warns the anxious housemaid of the approach of Christmas day, she rises, full of anxiety at the prospect of her morning labours. The meal, which was steeped in the _sowans bowie_ a fortnight ago to make the _Prechdacdan sour_, or _sour scones_, is the first object of her attention. The gridiron is put on the fire, and the sour scones are soon followed by hard cakes, soft cakes, buttered cakes, bannocks, and _pannich perm_. The baking being once over, the sowans pot succeeds the gridiron, full of new sowans, which are to be given to the family, agreeably to custom, this day in their beds. The sowans are boiled into the consistency of molasses, when the _lagan-le-vrich_, or yeast bread, to distinguish it from boiled sowans, is ready. It is then poured into as many bickers as there are individuals to partake of it, and presently served to the whole, both old and young. As soon as each despatches his bicker, he jumps out of bed--the elder branches to examine the ominous signs of the day, and the younger to enter into its amusements. Flocking to the swing--a favourite amusement on this occasion, the youngest of the family gets the first "shouder," and the next oldest to him, in regular succession. In order to add more to the spirit of the exercise, it is a common practice with the person in the swing, and the person appointed to swing him, to enter into a very warm and humorous altercation. As the swung person approaches the swinger, he exclaims, "_Ei mi tu chal_"--"I'll eat your kail." To this the swinger replies, with a violent shove, "_Cha ni u mu chal_"--"You shan't eat my kail." These threats and repulses are sometimes carried to such a height as to break down or capsize the threatener, which generally puts an end to the quarrel. As the day advances those minor amusements are terminated at the report of the gun, or the rattle of the ball-clubs--the gun inviting the marksmen to the _Kiavamuchd_, or prize-shooting, and the latter to _Luchd-vouil_, or the ball combatants--both the principal sports of the day. Tired at length of the active amusements of the field, they exchange them for the substantial entertainment of the table. Groaning under the "_Sonsy Haggis_" and many other savoury dainties, unseen for twelve months before, the relish communicated to the company by the appearance of the festive board is more easily conceived than described. The dinner once despatched, the flowing bowl succeeds, and the sparkling glass flies to and fro like a weaver's shuttle. The rest of the day is spent in dancing and games.