After prayers the family were crowded round the fading ingle, and cracking of the Brownie and of Davie’s prayer. Davie had opened his waistcoat, and thrown off his hose to warm his feet, and, flattered with their remarks on his abilities, began to be somewhat scurrilous on Brownie. “I think I hae cowed him the night,” said he; “he’ll fash nane o’ us—he may stay wi’ his Keatie Laidlaw yonder, an’ rin at her biddin. He has a sonsy weel–faur’d lass to bide wi’—he’s better aff than some o’ his neighbours, Maysey;” and, saying so, he cast a look to his wife that spoke unutterable things; but finding that his joke did not take, after so serious a prayer, he turned again on Brownie, and, as his own wife said, “didna leave him the likeness of a dog.” He said he had eaten sax bowes o’ good meal to the goodman, an’ a’ that he had done for’t, that ony body kend o’, was mending up an auld fail–dike round the corn ae night. In short, he said he was an unprofitable guest—a dirty droich, an’ a menseless glutton—an’ it was weak an’ silly in ony true Christian to be eiry for him. He had not said out the last words, when they heard a whispering at the door, and shortly after these words distinctly uttered: “There’s neither blood nor rown–tree pin, At open doors the dogs go in.” The size of every eye’s orbit was doubled in a moment, as it turned towards the door. The light of the fire was shining bright along the short entry between the beds, and they saw the appearance of a man, clothed in black, come slowly and deliberately in, walk across the entry, and go into the apartment in the other end of the house. The family were all above one another in beyond the fire in an instant, and struggling who to be undermost, and next the wall. Nanny, who was sitting on the form beyond the fire, pondering on other matters, leaning her brow on both hands, and all unconscious of what had entered, was overborne in the crush, and laid flat undermost of all. “Dear, dear bairns, what’s asteer? Hout fy! Why, troth, ye’ll crush the poor auld body as braid as a blood–kercake.” “Ah! the Brownie!—the Brownie!—the Brownie o’ Bodsbeck!” was whispered in horror from every tongue.