o'chadail mi mo bhrathair caomh a' tighinn a steach do'n mhuillinn, agus g'am phògadh." "Mata," ars an brathair, "a bha ri faire chunnaic mi féin e ged bha mi'm dhuisg" ("I have seen my dear brother entering the mill since I slept, and kissing me." "Well," said his brother, "you dreamed that while you slept; I saw it at the same time while I was perfectly awake.") The story goes on to say that the brother who had dreamed died very shortly thereafter.
IX.— A Haunted Old Chapel.
In my young days it was a regular custom with youngsters, as they met "air chéilidh," to recite tales in turn, legends being their only literature : "the feast of reason and the flow of soul." The following legend was a special favourite, and as such did duty on several occasions, and never failed to rivet the attention of the audience:
A clever tailor wagered that he would sew a coat's sleeve at the dead of night (alone) in an old chapel which was haunted, according to popular belief, by a dreadful ghost. At the appointed hour he was left alone in the old haunted enclosure. To make the best of his unenviable position, he sat close to the door and began to sew (by candle light) with might and main. He was not long at work when he heard an unearthly voice addressing him from a corner of the chapel as follows : "Am faic thu mo cheann mòr liath gun fhuil, gun fheòil, gun fheithean, a thaileir ? Chi mi sin 'us fuaigheam so," ars an taileir. ("Dost thou see my big gray head without blood, or flesh, or sinews, oh tailor ?" "I see that, but let me sew this," replied the tailor.) The spectre again cried in louder tones: "Am faic thu mo sgòrnan fada riabhach gun fhuil, gun fhoil, gun fheithean, a thaleir ? Chi me sin ach fuaigheam so," ars am taileir. ("Dost thou see my long swarthy throat without blood, or flesh, or sinews, oh tailor ?" "I see that, but let me sew this," replied the tailor.) Drawing nearer, and in louder and hoarser tones, the ghost cried : "Am faic thu mo chas mhòr riabhach gun fhuil, gun fheòil, gun fheithean, a thaleir ? Chi mi sin 'us fuaigheam so," ars an taileir. ("Dost thou see my big swarthy foot without blood, or flesh, or sinews, oh tailor ?" "I see that, but let me sew this," replied the tailor), and went on sewing "tooth and nail." Again the spectre, coming nearer and nearer, cried in louder and hoarser tones : "Am faic thu mo
