and whar wur they gaun? who owned the hay and the horses? and so on. The lad, who was a bit of a 'limb,' recklessly asked her what the deil business it was of hers, and John said, 'Aye, deed faith aye, boy! that's just true. Come away.' And so they lumbered away down through the woods by the Brocklock Burn, when suddenly a hare banged across the road, right under the foremost horse's nose, crossed and recrossed several times, till both the horses became so restless and unmanageable that they backed and backed against the old hedge on the roadside, and in a few minutes both carts went over the brow into the wood, dragging the horses with them. The harness fortunately snapped in pieces, saving them from being strangled. Johnie and the boy were compelled to walk into the town for help, where they told the story of Jean's malevolence. Johnie's second adventure took place some years afterwards. On passing with a cart of potatoes to be shipped from Kirkcudbright to Liverpool by the old _Fin M'Coul_ Johnie refused to give Jean two or three potatoes for seed, with the result that his horse backed his cart right into the then almost unprotected harbour, and they were with great difficulty rescued."(14) "The parish of Twynholm in days gone by had its witch. 'Old Meg' (as the reputed witch was called by the neighbours) had for some years got her supply of butter from one of the farms quite close to the village of Twynholm, and the goodwife, to safeguard her very fine dairy of cows, always gave old Meg a small print, or pat, extra for luck. All went well until one day a merchant came to the farm seeking a large quantity of butter for the season, and offering such a good price that a bargain was at once struck. The farmer's wife was obliged to tell her small customers, Meg among the number, that she 'would not be able tae gie them ony mair butter as she had a freen in the trade who would need all she could spare, and more if she had it.' Meg was the only one to murmur at the information, and did so in no unmistakable terms. 'Aye, woman,' said she, 'y'er getting far ower prood and big tae ser' a puir bodie. Folk sood na' seek tae haud their heeds ower high ower puir folk. There's aye a doonfa' tae sic pridefu' weys.' 'Weel, Margaret,' said the farmer's wife, 'ye're no a richt-thinkin', weel-mindet buddy or ye wudna turn on me the wey yer daen efter a' my kindness tae ye; sae I wad juist be as weel pleased if ye'd pass my door and try somebody else tae gie ye mair than I hae ony guid wull tae gie ye.' Meg left in great anger, and before a week was ended three of the farmer's cows died, and one broke its leg."(15)