Jan.) Hout awa daft creature, the blackamoors is fouk juſt like ourſel, but only they hae a black ſkin on them, did ye never see black ſheep and white ſheep, black horſe and white horſe, ye think they’re a’ de’ils because the de’il’s black: I thought myſel langſyne they were made for the penny, and fell’d the dearer o’ the black ſkin.
Mag.) But Janet, did ye e’er ſee the de’il, I wad ſain ken what like he is, some says he’s like a bill, a bear, or an auld beggar man.
Jan.) Indeed I never ſaw ſae meikle as the de’il a’ my days, but I’ve heard the miniſters ſlyting and miſca’ing him, and whan they ſaid a’ that they cou’d ſay o’ him, they ca’d him an ill ſpirit, and a great liar, mony a ane has war names than a’ that yet.
Mag.) But do ye think there are ony de’ils but ane, every body ſpeaking and crying to him, ane coudna anſwer them a’.
Jan.) A deed they ſay, there’s black anes and white anes o’ them, humble anes and horn’d anes, the very witches is haf de’ils whan they’re living, and hail de’ils whan they’re dead; the brownies is haf-dogs haf-de’ils, a’ rugh but the mouth, ſeeks nae claiſe, ae man’s meat ’ill fair them, and they’ll work ten mens’ wark in ae night, forby hob-goblins, faries and elfs, that ſhoot fouks beaſts to dead, and no a hole to be ſeen in the ſkin o’ them; hardna ye tell o’ the twa highland wives, how the tane cry’d, Oh on, oh on, Shenet, my cow’s shot; Hoop, houp, co’ſhe,
