16 'And ye maun dight it in your loof, And also sack it in your glove. 17 'And thou must bring it over the sea, Fair and clean and dry to me. 18 'And when that ye have done your wark, Come back to me, and ye'll get your sark.' 19 'I'll not quite my plaid for my life; It haps my seven bairns and my wife.' 20 'My maidenhead I'll then keep still, Let the elphin knight do what he will.' C Kinloch's A. S. Ballads, p. 145. From the recitation of M. Kinnear, a native of Mearnsshire, 23 Aug., 1826. 1 There stands a knicht at the tap o yon hill, Oure the hills and far awa He has blawn his horn loud and shall. The cauld wind's blawn my plaid awa 2 'If I had the horn that I hear blawn, And the knicht that blaws that horn!' 3 She had na sooner thae words said, Than the elfin knicht cam to her side. 4 'Are na ye oure young a may Wi onie young man doun to lie?' 5 'I have a sister younger than I, And she was married yesterday.' 6 'Married wi me ye sall neer be nane Till ye mak to me a sark but a seam. 7 'And ye maun shape it knife-, sheer-less, And ye maun sew it needle-, threed-less. 8 'And ye maun wash it in yon cistran, Whare water never stood nor ran. 9 'And ye maun dry it on yon hawthorn, Whare the sun neer shon sin man was born.' 10 'Gin that courtesie I do for thee, Ye maun do this for me. 11 'Ye'll get an acre o gude red-land Atween the saut sea and the sand. 12 'I want that land for to be corn, And ye maun aer it wi your horn. 13 'And ye maun saw it without a seed, And ye maun harrow it wi a threed. 14 'And ye maun shear it wi your knife, And na tyne a pickle o't for your life. 15 'And ye maun moue it in yon mouse-hole And ye maun thrash it in your shoe-sole. 16 'And ye maun fan it wi your luves, And ye maun sack it in your gloves. 17 'And ye maun bring it oure the sea, Fair and clean and dry to me. 18 'And whan that your wark is weill deen, Yese get your sark without a seam.' D Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, II, 296. 1 The Elfin knight stands on yon hill, Blaw, blaw, blaw winds, blaw Blawing his horn loud and shrill. And the wind has blawin my plaid awa 2 'If I had yon horn in my kist, And the bonny laddie here that I luve best! 3 'I hae a sister eleven years auld, And she to the young men's bed has made bauld. 4 'And I mysell am only nine, And oh! sae fain, luve, as I woud be thine.' 5 'Ye maun make me a fine Holland sark, Without ony stitching or needle wark. 6 'And ye maun wash it in yonder well, Where the dew never wat, nor the rain ever fell.