k
that they had a drap o' the deil's blude, like the pyets. Gin a' tales
be true, they hae the warmest place at his bink this vera minute. I
dinna ken vera muckle about them though, but the auldest fouk said they
were just byous wi' cruelty. Mony a good man did they hing up i' their
ha', just for their ain sport; ye'll see the ring to the fore yet in the
roof o 't. Did ye never hear o' Mauns' Stane, neebour?"

"Mauns' what?" said I.

"Ou, Mauns' Stane. But it's no likely. Ye see it was just a queer clump
o' a roun'-about heathen, waghlin' may be twa tons or thereby. It wasna
like ony o' the stanes in our countra, an' it was as roun' as a fit-ba';
I'm sure it wad ding Professor Couplan himsel' to tell what way it cam'
there. Noo, fouk aye thought there was something uncanny about it, an'
some gaed the length o' saying that the deil used to bake ginshbread
upon't; and, as sure as ye're sitting there, frien', there was knuckle-
marks upon 't, for my ain father has seen them as aften as I have taes
an' fingers. Aweel, ye see, Mauns Crawford, the last o' the Lairds o'
Federat, an' the deil had coost out (may be because the laird was just as
wicked an' as clever as he was himsel'), an' ye perceive the evil ane
wantit to play him a trick. Noo, Mauns Crawford was ae day lookin' ower
his castle wa', and he saw a stalwart carle, in black claes, ridin' up
the loanin'. He stopped at this chuckie o' a stane, an' loutin' himsel',
he took it up in his arms, and lifted it three times to his saddle-bow,
an' syne he rade awa out o' sight, never comin' near the castle, as Mauns
thought he would hae done. 'Noo,' says the baron till himsel', says he,
'I didna think that there was ony ane in a' the land that could hae
played sic a ploy; but deil fetch me if I dinna lift it as weel as he
did!' Sae aff he gaed, for there wasna sic a man for birr in a' the
countra, an' he kent it as weel, for he never met wi' his match. Weel,
he tried, and tugged, and better than tugged at the stane, but he coudna
mudge it ava; an' when he looked about, he saw a man at his ilbuck, a'
smeared wi' smiddy-coom, snightern an' laughin' at him. The laird d---d
him, an' bade him lift it, whilk he did as gin 't had been a little
pinnin. The laird was like to burst wi' rage at being fickled by sic a
hag-ma-hush carle, and he took to the stane in a fury, and lifted it till
his knee; but the weight o 't amaist ground his banes to smash. He held
the stane