There is a sequel to this story which does not end happily: "It was the time of the Reformation; and a priest, more zealous than wise, exhorted the Laird to have this Imp of Heathenism baptised, to which he in an evil hour consented, and the worthy reforming saint concealed himself in the barn to surprise the brownie at his work. He appeared like a little, wrinkled, ancient man, and began his nightly moil. The priest leapt from his ambush, and dashed the baptismal water in his face, solemnly repeating the set form of Christian rite. The poor brownie set up a frightful and agonising yell, and instantly vanished never to return."(65) Allan Cunningham further tells of a brownie of a humorous turn of mind who held sway about Newabbey:--"The Abbey lands in the parish of Newabbey, were the residence of a very sportive one. He loved to be, betimes, somewhat mischievous. Two lasses, having made a fine bowlful of buttered brose, had taken it into the byre to sup while it was yet dark. In the haste of concealment they had brought but one spoon; so they placed the bowl between them, and took a spoonful by turns. 'I hae got but three sups,' cried the one, 'an' it's a' done!' 'It's a' done, indeed,' cried the other. 'Ha, ha!' laughed a third voice, 'Brownie has gotten the maist o't.'"(66) As indicating the great skill in gathering the sheep together, the following tradition lingers in Galloway of a brownie who had spent the night long at this task. In the morning not only had he the sheep together, but amongst them was half a dozen hares. "Deil tak' thae wee grey beasties," he muttered, when this was pointed out to him, "they cost me mair fash than a' the lave o' them." In Scottish literature the brownie has a distinctive place, his unique and wonder-creating personality being used with rare effect. It is, however, the particular part of Scotland we are dealing with--the south-west--that has produced the most typical examples, in prose as well as in poetry, for Dumfriesshire claims that fine Covenanting story, "The Brownie of Bodsbeck," while Galloway has yielded that inimitable poetical gem, "The Brownie of Blednoch," the quotation of which in full may fittingly close the chapter:-- THE BROWNIE OF BLEDNOCH. There cam a strange wight to our town-en' And the fient a body did him ken'; He tirled na lang, but he glided ben Wi' a dreary, dreary hum. His face did glare like the glow o' the west, When the drumlie cloud has it half o'ercast; Or the struggling moon when she's sair distrest-- O sirs! 'twas Aiken-drum. I trow the bauldest stood aback, Wi' a gape and a glower till their lugs did crack, As the shapeless phantom mum'ling spak-- "Hae ye wark for Aiken-drum?" O had ye seen the bairns' fright, As they stared at this wild and unyirthly wight, As he stauket in 'tween the dark and the light, And graned out, "Aiken-drum!"