an air of truth to the others; therefore people were not backward in crediting both. He who accepted the story of the dancing fairies could have little difficulty in giving credence to that of the witches' "covine" dragging their unresisting prey through the streets. And so another wretched victim or two went to her long home by a fiery death. The schoolmaster was probably insane on some points, and trumped up the story of the witches having repeatedly ducked him. Our ancestors could swallow anything in the way of marvel. This story of the Jedburgh schoolmaster is told in "Historical Notices of the Superstitions of Teviotdale"; and it is added therein that popular tradition says that "a son of Lord Torpichen, who had been taught the art of witchcraft by his nurse," was of the party of witches, and that it was he who first gave information regarding the murderers. The Ettrick Shepherd must have known this story well. Perhaps it suggested some of the verses in "The Witch of Fife," in "The Queen's Wake." "Where have ye been, ye ill woman, These three lang nichts frae hame? What gars the sweit drap frae yer brow, ' Like clots o' the saut sea faem? "It fears me muckle ye have seen What guid man never knew; It fears me muckle ye have been Where the grey cock never crew." {122} "Sit down, sit down, my leal auld man, Sit down and listen to me; I'll gar the hair stand on yer crown And the cauld sweit blind yer e'e. "The first leet nicht, when the new moon set, When all was douf and mirk, We saddled our naigs wi* the moon fern leaf, And rode frae Kilmorran Kirk. "Some horses were of "the broom-cow framed, And some of the green bay tree: But mine was made of a hemlock-shaw, And a stout stallion was he. "We rode the tod doon on the hill, The martin on the law; And we hunted the hoolit out o' breath, And forcit him doon to fa'." "What guid was that, ye ill woman? What guid was that to thee? Ye wad better have been in yer bed at hame Wi' yer dear little bairns and me." "And aye we rade and sae merrylie we rade, Through the merkist gloffs o' the night; And we swam the flood, and we darnit the wood, Till we cam to the Lommond height. "And when we cam to the Lommond height, Sae blythlie we lighted down; And we drank frae the horns that never grew The beer that was never brewin.