142 THE HOME OF A NATURALIST. 



No Trow can remain visible when a pious word is 

 spoken. No sooner had the " Gude save me " passed 

 her lips than the little strangers vanished through the 

 crowd at the door. Of course, some jokes were tossed 

 at the mother, who, however, declared that she had 

 left her boys asleep in bed, and never dreamt of their 

 following her. There was snow on the ground, and 

 snow was falling although it was a moonlight evening. 

 An ancient dame muttered, " The lambs 'ill take cauld " 

 — a remark which of course touched the young 

 mother's heart, and she hastened after her children. 

 But when she reached her own house they were not 

 there. No, nor were they to be found in any neigh- 

 bouring house. And for half an hour the parents and 

 all the merry party searched for the children, but 

 without success. Then folk began to whisper to one 

 another of the wonderful steps the little couple had 

 danced, and of the curious silence they maintained, 

 though evidently enjoying the dance. At last an 

 aged woman asked the weeping mother if she had 

 " looked well to da saining." 



"I never thought of it," cried the terrified girl; 

 and then " a' folk kent it was Trows that had ta'en the 

 form o' Jock's peerie boys." 



There was no more dancing that night. " No, nor 

 for many Yules after in that toon," for next morning 

 the baby-boys were found dead in each other's arms 

 in a great, soft snowdrift which filled a ravine not 

 many hundred yards from their home. And every one 

 affirmed that the calamity occurred through the parents 



