At this point I could not forbear interrupting Grannie to ask her
whether she had ever heard of a poem called _A Ballad upon a Wedding_.
She said she had not, so I quoted to her Suckling's well-known lines:

Her feet beneath her petticoat,
Like little mice, stole in and out,
As if they feared the light.
But O! she dances such a way,
No sun upon an Easter day
Is half so fine a sight.

Grannie listened attentively and seemed to think that the heroine of the
poem was the fairy that wakened the birds in Janet's Cove.

"T' lad that wrote yon verses has gotten it wrang," she said. "Shoo
hadn't no petticoat on her. T' lass were nakt frae top to toe. Well,
when shoo'd bin dancin' a while shoo seemed to forget all about t'
birds. Shoo let her wand drop and climmed down t' fall. Then shoo set
hersel on a rock behind t' fall an' clapped her hands an' laughed. I
looked at her an' I saw t' bonniest seet I've iver set een on.

"You see by now t' sun had getten high up i' t' sky, an' were shinin'
straight up t' beck on to t' fall. There had bin a bit o' flood t' day
afore, an' t' watter were throwin' up spray wheer it fell on to t' rocks
below t' fall. An' theer, plain as life, were a rainbow stretched across
t' fall, an' Janet sittin' on t' rock reet i' t' middle o' t' bow wi'
all t' colours o' t' bowgreen an' yallow an' blue--shinin' on her hair.

"Efter that I fair lost count o' t' time. I sat theer, lapped i' my
shawl, an' glowered at Janet, an' t' sun, an' t' watterfall, while at