Lititia Maclintock
My mother's sister was her lone in the house one day, wi' a' big pot of water boiling on the fire, and ane o' the wee folk fell down the chimney, and slipped wi' his leg in the hot water.
He let a terrible squeal out o' him, an' in a minute the house was full o' wee crathurs pulling him out o' the pot, an' carrying him across the floor.
"Did she scald you?" my aunt heard them saying to him.
"Na, na, it was mysel' scalded my ainsel'," quoth the wee fellow.
"A weel, a weel," says they. "If it was your ainsel' scalded yoursel', we'll say nothing, but if she had scalded you, we'd ha' made her pay."
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