an answer she began to sing--

Trefoil, vervain, John's-wort, dill,
Hinders witches of their
will, Weel is them, that weel may
Fast upon Saint Andrew's day.

Saint Bride and her brat,
Saint Colme and his cat,
Saint Michael and his spear,
Keep the house frae reif and wear.

This charm she sung to a wild tune, in a high and shrill voice,
and, cutting three capers with such strength and agility as almost
to touch the roof of the room, concluded, 'And now, Laird, will
ye no order me a tass o' brandy?'

'That you shall have, Meg. Sit down yont there at the door and
tell us what news ye have heard at the fair o' Drumshourloch.'

'Troth, Laird, and there was muckle want o' you, and the like o'
you; for there was a whin bonnie lasses there, forbye mysell, and
deil ane to gie them hansels.'

'Weel, Meg, and how mony gipsies were sent to the tolbooth?'

'Troth, but three, Laird, for there were nae mair in the fair, bye
mysell, as I said before, and I e'en gae them leg-bail, for
there's nae ease in dealing wi' quarrelsome fowk. And there's
Dunbog has warned the Red Rotten and John Young aff his grunds--