It happened on a dark winter morning, that two of their wives were going to Dysart to sell their fish; and on the road side there happened to be some tinker’s ass teeth red. The poor ass seeing the two wives coming with the creels, thought it was the tinkers coming to flit or relieve him, fell a-crying, the two wives threw their fish a’ awa’, and ran hame like mad persons, crying they had seen the deil, ay, the very horned deil, and that he spoke to them but they didna ken what he said, for it was waur than a highlandman’s; the whole town was in an uproar; some would go with picks and spades, and hagg him to pieces; others would go and catch him in a strong net, and then they would either hang or drown him. Na, na, co’ Wise Willie, we manna cast out wi’ him at the first, as he’s gotten the twa burden’s o’ fish, he’ll e’en gang his wa, and no fash us nae mair; he is o’er souple to be catch’d in a net; a’ your pith will neither hang nor drown him, and the kintra he comes frae is a’ het coals, he’d never burn. We’ll gae to him in a civil manner, and see what he wants. Get out Witty Eppie and lingle-tail’d Nancy wi’ the Bible and Psalm-book. So aff they came in a crowd, either to kill the deil, or catch him alive; and as they came near the place, the ass fell a-crying, which caused many of them to faint and run back. Na, na, co’ Willie, that’s no the deil’s words at a’, its my Lord’s trumpeter, routing on his brass whistle. Willie ventured till he saw the ass’s twa lugs. Now, said Willie, come forward, an’ haud him fast, I see his twa horns; hech, sirs, he has a white beard like an auld man. So they inclosed the poor ass on all sides, thinking it was the deil; but when Wise Willie saw he had nae cloven feet, he cried out, Scarna lads, this is not the deil, it’s some living beast; it’s neither cow nor horse. An’ what is’t then, Willie? Indeed, co Willie, it’s the father of the maukins, I ken by its lang lugs. [Illustration] Now some say this history is too satirical, but it is according to the knowledge of those times, not to say one place by another. The old wives will tell you yet of many such stories of the devil appearing to their grandfathers and grandmothers, and dead wives coming back again to visit their families long after being dead. So this Buchaven was once noted for droll exploits; but it is now become better known, and a place that produces the hardiest sailors of any town on the Scots coast. Yet many of the old people in it still retain the old tincture of their ancient and uncultivated speech, such as Be-go, laddie; they are also of a fiery nature, for if you ask any of their wives where their college stands, they’ll tell you, if your nose was in their a--e, your mouth would be at the door of it.