198 THE HOME OF A NATURALIST. 



"Where the green fields are," or, "Where the green 

 grass grows." Unfortunately, our father seldom 

 troubled himself with tracing corrupt dialect to its 

 fountain-head, but preferred studying old languages 

 as he found them in books ; consequently, the only 

 Shetlander competent to give a true translation of such 

 Norse remains as we possess has taken his knowledge 

 with him to the Silent Land. 



My brother gives the following description of a 

 curious game of forfeits, which, he says, " used to be 

 played on winter evenings, not, so far as I recollect, 

 special to any particular day of the year, or to any 

 festival, heathen or Christian. A lowan taund (blazing 

 peat), or anything that would do duty as a lighted 

 torch, was held forth by No. i of the players towards 

 No. 2, the following being the form of rhyme passing 

 between them: — 



No. 1. Whaul buy me Jocky-be-laund? 



No. 2. What an' he dees ata me haund ? 



No. I. De back sail bear da saidle baund, 

 Ower stocks an' stanes 

 An' dead men's banes, 

 An' a sail lie upon dy heed at anes, 

 If do lets me janty Jocky edder dee or fa 1 



This is repeated with the utmost rapidity, and if con- 

 cluded before the torch goes out, No. 2 must instantly 

 seize it. He then turns to No. 3 with the same 

 interrogatory, 'Whaul buy me Jockey - be - laund ? ' 

 replied to as before. He in whose hand the torch 

 goes out pays the forfeit, whatever may have been 

 fixed. I rather think that there was a special form of 



