While staying at Luss lately, I was informed that a mill near to Loch Lomond had formerly been haunted by the goat demon, and that the miller had suffered much from its mischievous disposition. It frequently let on the water when there was no grain to grind. But one night the miller watched his mill, and had a meeting with the goblin, who demanded the miller's name, and was informed that it was myself. After a trial of strength, the miller got the best of it, and the spirit departed. After hearing this, I remembered that the same story, under a slightly different form, had been told me when a boy in my native village. This was the story as then told:—A certain miller in the west missed a quantity of his meal every day, although his mill was carefully and securely locked. One night he sat up and watched, hiding himself behind the hopper. After a time, he was surprised to see the hopper beginning to go, and, looking up, he saw a little manakin holding a little cappie in his hand and filling it at the hopper. The miller was so frightened that this time he let him go; but, in a few minutes, the manakin returned again with his cappie. Then the miller stepped out from his hiding-place, and said, "Aye, my manakin, and wha may you be, and what's your name?" To which the manakin, without being apparently disturbed, replied, "My name is Self, and what's your name?" "My name is Self, too," replied the miller. The manakin's cappie being by this time again full, he began to walk off, but the miller gave him a whack with his stick, and then ran again to his hiding-place. The manakin gave a terrible yell, which brought from a hidden corner an old woman, crying, "Wha did it? Wha did it?" The manakin answered, "It was Self did it." Whereat, slapping the manakin on the cheek, the old woman said, "If Self did it, Self must mend it again." After this, they both left the mill, which immediately stopped working. The miller was never afterwards troubled in this way, and, at the same time, a goat which for generations had been observed at gloaming and on moonlight nights in the dell, and on the banks of the stream which drove the mill, disappeared, and was never seen again.
To meet a sow the first thing in the morning boded bad luck for the day.
If a male cat came into the house and shewed itself friendly to any one, it was a lucky omen for that person.
To meet a piebald horse was lucky. If two such horses were met apart, the one after the other, and if then the person who met them were to spit three times, and express any reasonable wish, it would be granted within three days.
If a stray dog followed any person on the street, without having been enticed, it was lucky, and success was certain to attend the errand on which the person was engaged.
[CHAPTER IX.]
SUPERSTITIONS CONCERNING PLANTS.
