“No half sae tall, sir.” “Had it not some slight resemblance to your master, little as it was? Did that not strike you?” “Na, na, it was naething like my master, nor nae yerdly creature that ever was seen; indeed it was nae creature ava.” “What then do you suppose it was?” “Lord kens!—A wraith, I hae little doubt. My een rins a’ wi’ water whan I think about it yet.” “Wraiths are quite common here, are they?” “O yes, sir!—oure common. They appear aye afore death, especially if the death be to be sudden.” “And what are they generally like?” “Sometimes like a light—sometimes like a windin–sheet—sometimes like the body that’s to dee, gaen mad—and sometimes like a coffin made o’ moon–light.” “Was it in the evening you saw this apparition?” “It was a little after midnight.” “And pray, what might be your business in such a place at that untimely hour?—Explain that fully to me if you please.” “I sall do that, sir, as weel as I can:—Our ewes, ye see, lie up in the twa Grains an’ the Middle a’ the harst—Now, the Quave Brae again, it’s our hogg–fence, that’s the hained grund like; and whenever the wind gangs easterly about, then whan the auld luckies rise i’ the howe o’ the night to get their rug, aff they come, snouckin a’ the way to the Lang Bank, an’ the tither end o’ them round the Piper Snout, and into the Quave Brae to the hained grund; an’ very often they think naething o’ landing i’ the mids o’ the corn. Now I never mindit the corn sae muckle; but for them to gang wi’ the hogg–fence, I coudna bide that ava; for ye ken, sir, how coud we turn our hand wi’ our pickle hoggs i’ winter if their bit foggage war a’ riven up by the auld raikin hypalts ere ever a smeary’s clute clattered on’t?” Though Clavers was generally of an impatient temper, and loathed the simplicity of nature, yet he could not help smiling at this elucidation, which was much the same to him as if it had been delivered in the language of the Moguls; but seeing the shepherd perfectly sincere, he suffered him to go on to the end.