keen to know who he was, and the bit laddie to know if he had fish. "Call ye to him," she said, "and ask him if he has trout, and if he will give us one to our supper?" At first they feared to do this, but at last the laddie crept up to him. "Have ye got fish?" said he; and then the girlie said, "And will ye give us a trout to our supper, for my father is in the hill?" Up rose the man; but it was not a man, but a fire, which blazed up to the sky. The heather taking fire rolled flames up to the children's feet, who were crying with fright before they got home.
"And what was it?"
"Ou, just the Mischief."— (W. Ross, stalker.)
xiv.— The Mermaid of Lochinver.
A mermaid fell in love with a fisherman of Lochinver. Her lover was enamoured, but he had heard how youths ensnared by mermaids had found a watery grave.
It became necessary then to make his own terms, and to arrange matters so as to secure himself. To rule a mermaid it is necessary to possess yourself, not of her person, but of the pouch and belt which mermaids wear. This carries the glass, comb, and other articles wellknown to be indispensable to the lady's comfort, but also as a sort of life-preserver helps them to swim.
By fair means or foul this cautious swain got hold of the pouch, and the mermaid became in consequence his bride and his bondswoman. There was little happiness in such a union for the poor little wife. She wearied of a husband, who, to tell the truth, thought more of himself than of her. He never took her out in his boat when the sun danced on the sea, but left her at home with the cows, and on a croft which was to her a sort of prison. Her silky hair grew tangled. The dogs teased her. Her tail was really in the way. She wept incessantly while rude people mocked at her. Nor was there any prospect of escape after nine months of this wretched life. Her powers of swimming depended on her pouch, and that was lost. What was more, she now suspected the fisherman of having cozened her out of it.
