"here come. You're always crying about a wee bannock. Here's one. Come
in, haste ye, and I'll help ye to grip it."

"Ay, mother, where is it?"

"See there. Run over on that side."

But the bannock ran in behind the goodman's chair. Jock fell among the
sprits. The goodman cast a binning, and the goodwife the spurtle. But it
was too clever for Jock and her both. It was off and out of sight in a
crack, and through among the whins, and down the road to the next house,
and in and snug by the fireside. The folk were just sitting down to
their soup, and the goodwife scraping the pot. "Look," quoth she,
"there's a wee bannock come in to warm itself at our fireside."

"Shut the door," quoth the goodman, "and we'll try to get a grip of it."

When the bannock heard that, it ran out of the house and they after it
with their spoons, and the goodman shied his hat. But it rolled away and
ran, and ran, till it came to another house; and when it went in the
folk were just going to their beds. The goodman was taking off his
breeches, and the goodwife raking the fire.

"What's that?" quoth he.

"Oh," quoth she, "it's a wee bannock."

Quoth he, "I could eat the half of it."

"Grip it," quoth the wife, "and I'll have a bit too."