Hawick, relate many of the adventures of this old mosstrooper, his great progenitor, and the first who ever bore the name. He described him as a great champion-a man quite invincible, and quoted several verses of a ballad relating to him, which I never heard either before or since. I remember only one of them :

There was ane banna of barley meal

Cam duntin dune by Davy's sheil,

But out cam Davy and his lads,

And dang the banna a' in blads.

He explained how this "bannock of barley meal" meant a rich booty, which the old hero captured from a band of marauders. He lived at Garwell in Eskdale-moor.

Lochy-Law, where the principal scene of this tale is laid, is a hill on the lands of Shorthope in the wilds of Ettrick. The Fairy Slack is up in the middle of the hill, a very curious ravine, and would be much more so when overshadowed with wood. The Back-burn which joins the Ettrick immediately below this hill, has been haunted time immemorial, both by the fairies, and the ghost of a wandering minstrel who was cruelly murdered there, and who sleeps in a lone grave a small distance from the ford.

NOTE X.

And fears of elf, and fairy raid,

Have like a morning dream decayed.-P. 136.

The fairies have now totally disappeared, and it is a pity they should; for they seem to have been the most delightful little spirits that ever haunted the Scotish dells. There are only very few now remaining alive who have ever seen them; and when they did, it was on Hallowevenings while they were young, when the gospel was not very rife in the country. But, strange as it may appear, with the witches it is far otherwise. Never, in the most "superstitious ages, was the existence of witches, or the influence of their diabolical power, more firmly believed in, than by the inhabitants of the mountains of Ettrick Forest at the present day. Many precautions and charms are used to avert this influence, and scarcely does a summer elapse in which there are not some of the most gross incantations practised, in order to free flocks and herds from the blasting power of these old hags. There are two farmers still living, who will both make oath that they have wounded several old wives with shot as they were traversing the air in the shapes of moor-fowl and partridges. A very singular amusement that for old

wives!—I heard one of these gentlemen relate, with the utmost seriousness, and as a matter he did not wish to be generally known, that one morning, going out a fowling, he sprung a pair of moor-fowl in a place where it was not customary for moor-fowl to stay-he fired at the henwounded her, and eyed her until she alighted beyond an old dyke-when he went to the spot, his astonishment may be well conceived, when he found Nell- picking the hail out of her limbs! He was extremely vexed that he had not shot the cock, for he was almost certain he was no other than Wattie Grieve!!!

The tales and anecdotes of celebrated witches, that are still related in the country, are extremely whimsical and diverting. The following is a well-authenticated one. A number of gentlemen were one day met for a chase on the lands of Newhouse and Kirkhope-their greyhounds were numerous and keen, but not a hare could they raise. At length a boy came to them, who offered to start a hare to them, if they would give him a guinea, and the black greyhound to hold. The demand was singular, but it was peremptory, and on other conditions he would not comply. The guerdon was accordingly paid-the hare was started, and the sport afforded by the chase was excellent-the greyhounds were all baffled, and began

to give up one by one, when one of the party came slily behind the boy, and cut the leish in which he held the black dog-away he flew to join the chase.-The boy, losing all recollection, ran, bawling out with great vociferation, “Huy, mither, rin!! Hay, rin, ye auld witch,

if ever ye ran i yer life!! Rin, mither, rin!!" The black

dog came fast up with her, and was just beginning to mouth her, when she sprung in at the window of a little cottage and escaped. The riders soon came to the place, and entered the cot in search of the hare; but, lo! there was no living creature there but the old woman lying panting in a bed, so breathless that she could not speak a word!!!

But the best old witch tale that remains, is that which is related of the celebrated Michael Scott, Master of Oakwad. Mr Walter Scott has preserved it, but so altered from the original way, that it is not easy to recognize it. The old people tell it as follows: There was one of Mr Michael's tenants who had a wife that was the most notable witch of the age. So extraordinary were her powers, that the country people began to put them in competition with those of the Master, and say, that in some cantrips she surpassed him. Michael could ill brook such insinuations; for there is always jealousy between great

characters, and went over one day with his dogs on pretence of hunting, but in reality with an intent of exercising some of his infernal power in the chastisement of Lucky (I have the best reason in the world for concealing her reputed name). He found her alone in the field weeding lint; and desired her, in a friendly manner, to show him some of her powerful art. She was very angry with him, and denied that she had any supernatural skill. He, however, continuing to press her, she told him sharply to let her alone, else she would make him repent the day he troubled her. How she perceived the virtues of Michael's wand is not known, but in a moment she snatched it from his hand, and gave him three lashes with it. The knight was momently changed to a hare, when the malicious and inveterate hag cried out, laughing, "Shu, Michael, rin or dee!" and baited all his own dogs upon him. He was extremely hard hunted, and was obliged to swim the river, and take shelter in the sewer of his own castle from the fury of his pursuers, where he got leisure to change himself again to a man.

Michael being extremely chagrined at having been thus outwitted, studied a deadly revenge; and going over afterwards to hunt, he sent his man to Fauldshope to borrow some bread from Lucky -to give to his dogs,