was sowens that she had in her hand for our supper, when a little old woman walked in, and begged a lippie of meal of her. My mother not knowing her face, said, "And which of the glens do you come from?" "I come from our own place, and am short of meal." My mother, who had plenty in the house, spake her civil, and bound her the meal on her back, following her a few steps from the door. She noticed that a little kiln on the hillside was smoking. The wifie saw this, too, and said, "Take back your meal; we shall soon have meal of our own." My mother pressed ours on her; but she left the poke lying, and when she came to the running burn she went out of sight. So my mother just judged that it was a fairy.
viii.—The Man who Flew with the Fairies.
Five generations ago two men were walking on a Thursday morning to attend the sacramental preachings in the parish of Dornoch, to which one of them now belonged. The other was a native of Lairg. G. (the Dornoch man) asked the other of his welfare, who replied that his health, under Providence, was but middling. "Rory," said G., "I would like to hear of yourself concerning a point that troubles me," "And what is that?" "They say that you are now taken up with creatures which we are little acquainted with." Rory could not deny the impeachment, but confessed that he was in the power of the "little people," that they called him away at any time, carrying him off, when he flew like a bird, having once been as high as the steeple of Dornoch cathedral, spending sometimes weeks, sometimes days and nights, in their society. G. inquired anxiously what they gave him to eat, when he replied that the food was much the same as he had at home, but that everything—beef, bread, or fish—had the same taste, and was like so much cork. This is all of their conversation that has been recovered. My informant, an old woman, had it from her grandfather, whose grandfather is the G. of the tale.
