bull to the field for the night.  In the morning they took the lady into a fine and rich room, and gave her the finest pear she had ever seen, bidding her no to break it till she was in the greatest strait ever mortal could be in, and that wad get her out o’t.  Again she was lifted and set on his back, and awa’ they went.  And lang they gaed, and sair they rade, till they came in sight o’ the far biggest castle, and far farthest aff, they had yet seen.  “We maun be yonder the night,” says the bull, “for my young brither lives yonder”; and they were there directly.  They lifted her down, took her in, and sent the bull to the field for the night.  In the morning they took her into a room, the finest of a’, and gied her a plum, telling her no to break it till she was in the greatest strait mortal could be in, and that wad get her out o’t.  Presently they brought hame the bull, set the lady on his back, and awa’ they went.

And aye they gaed, and on they rade, till they came to a dark and ugsome glen, where they stopped, and the lady lighted down.  Says the bull to her:  “Here ye maun stay till I gang and fight the deil.  Ye maun seat yoursel’ on that stane, and move neither hand nor fit till I come back, else I’ll never find ye again.  And if everything round about ye turns blue I hae beated the deil; but should a’ things turn red he’ll hae conquered me.”  She set hersel’ down on the stane, and by-and-by a’ round her turned blue.  O’ercome wi’ joy, she lifted the ae fit and crossed it owre the ither, sae glad was she that her companion was victorious.  The bull returned and sought for but never could find her.

Lang she sat, and aye she grat, till she wearied.  At last she rase and gaed awa’, she kedna whaur till.  On she wandered till she came to a great hill o’ glass, that she tried a’ she could to climb, bat wasna able.  Round the bottom o’ the hill she gaed, sabbing and seeking a passage owre, till at last she came to a smith’s house; and the smith promised, if she wad serve him seven years, he wad make her iron shoon, wherewi’ she could climb owre the glassy hill.  At seven years’ end she got her iron shoon, clamb the glassy hill, and chanced to come to the auld washerwife’s habitation.  There she was telled of a gallant young knight that had given in some bluidy sarks to wash, and whaever washed thae sarks was to be his wife.  The auld wife had washed till she was tired, and then she set to her dochter, and baith washed, and they washed, and they better washed, in hopes of getting the young knight; but a’ they could do they couldna bring out a stain.  At length they set the stranger damosel to wark; and whenever she began the stains came out pure and clean, but the auld wife made the knight believe it was her dochter had washed the sarks.  So the knight and the eldest dochter were to be married, and the stranger damosel was distracted at the thought of it, for she was deeply in love wi’ him.  So she bethought her of her apple, and breaking it, found it filled with gold