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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 lang- syne they were made for the penny, and sellʻd the dearer of the black skin.
Mag. But Janet did ye e'er see the de'il, I wad fain 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 muckle as the de'il as my days, but I've heard the ministers flyting and misca'ing him, and whan they said as 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 as 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 of them, hummel 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 half dogs haf de'ils, as rugh but the mouth, seeks nae claise, ae man's meat 'ill sair them, and they'll work ten men's wark in ae night, forby hobgoblins, faries and elfs, that shoots 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; Houp, houp, coʻ she,
