Folk-Lore and Legends | Page 3

is the common
opinion of the peasantry, that the consummation of the prophecy was
fulfilled, when the exaction of the exorbitant rents reduced the
Highlanders to poverty, and the introduction of the sheep banished the
people to America.
Whatever might have been the gift of Kenneth Oer, he does not appear
to have used it with an extraordinary degree of discretion; and the last
time he exercised it, he was very near paying dear for his divination.
On this occasion he happened to be at some high festival of the
M'Kenzies at Castle Braan. One of the guests was so exhilarated by the
scene of gaiety, that he could not forbear an eulogium on the gallantry
of the feast, and the nobleness of the guests. Kenneth, it appears, had no
regard for the M'Kenzies, and was so provoked by this sally in their
praise, that he not only broke out into a severe satire against their whole
race, but gave vent to the prophetic denunciation of wrath and
confusion upon their posterity. The guests being informed (or having
overheard a part) of this rhapsody, instantly rose up with one accord to
punish the contumely of the prophet. Kenneth, though he foretold the
fate of others, did not in any manner look into that of himself; for this
reason, being doubtful of debating the propriety of his prediction upon
such unequal terms, he fled with the greatest precipitation. The
M'Kenzies followed with infinite zeal; and more than one ball had
whistled over the head of the seer before he reached Loch Ousie. The
consequences of this prediction so disgusted Kenneth with any further
exercise of his prophetic calling, that, in the anguish of his flight, he

solemnly renounced all communication with its power; and, as he ran
along the margin of Loch Ousie, he took out the wonderful pebbles,
and cast them in a fury into the water. Whether his evil genius had now
forsaken him, or his condition was better than that of his pursuers, is
unknown, but certain it is, Kenneth, after the sacrifice of the pebbles,
outstripped his enraged enemies, and never, so far as I have heard,
made any attempt at prophecy from the hour of his escape.
Kenneth Oer had a son, who was called Ian Dubh Mac Coinnach
(Black John, the son of Kenneth), and lived in the village of Miltoun,
near Dingwall. His chief occupation was brewing whisky; and he was
killed in a fray at Miltoun, early in the present century. His exit would
not have formed the catastrophe of an epic poem, and appears to have
been one of those events of which his father had no intelligence, for it
happened in the following manner:--
Having fallen into a dispute with a man with whom he had previously
been on friendly terms, they proceeded to blows; in the scuffle, the boy,
the son of Ian's adversary, observing the two combatants locked in a
close and firm gripe of eager contention, and being doubtful of the
event, ran into the house and brought out the iron pot-crook, with
which he saluted the head of the unfortunate Ian so severely, that he not
only relinquished his combat, but departed this life on the ensuing
morning.

ELPHIN IRVING.
THE FAIRIES' CUPBEARER.
"The lady kilted her kirtle green A little aboon her knee, The lady
snooded her yellow hair A little aboon her bree, And she's gane to the
good greenwood As fast as she could hie.
And first she let the black steed pass, And syne she let the brown, And
then she flew to the milk-white steed, And pulled the rider down: Syne
out then sang the queen o' the fairies, Frae midst a bank of broom, She

that has won him, young Tamlane, Has gotten a gallant groom."
Old Ballad.
"The romantic vale of Corriewater, in Annandale, is regarded by the
inhabitants, a pastoral and unmingled people, as the last border refuge
of those beautiful and capricious beings, the fairies. Many old people
yet living imagine they have had intercourse of good words and good
deeds with the 'good folk'; and continue to tell that in the ancient days
the fairies danced on the hill, and revelled in the glen, and showed
themselves, like the mysterious children of the deity of old, among the
sons and daughters of men. Their visits to the earth were periods of joy
and mirth to mankind, rather than of sorrow and apprehension. They
played on musical instruments of wonderful sweetness and variety of
note, spread unexpected feasts, the supernatural flavour of which
overpowered on many occasions the religious scruples of the
Presbyterian shepherds, performed wonderful deeds of horsemanship,
and marched in midnight processions, when the sound of their elfin
minstrelsy charmed youths and maidens into love for their