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I rubbed my een to finnd out if I'd made ony mistak, but, sure enough, theer were t' lile nakt lass an' t' owd sun aboon t' breast o' t' fell dancin' togither like mad. Then, all on a sudden, I bethowt me it were Easter Sunday, and how I'd heerd fowks say that t' sun allus dances on Easter mornin'."
Grannie listened attentively and seemed to think that the heroine of the poem was the fairy that wakened the birds in Janet's Cove. "T' lad that wrote yon verses has gotten it wrang," she said. "Shoo hadn't no petticoat on her. T' lass were nakt frae top to toe. Well, when shoo'd bin dancin' a while shoo seemed to forget all about t' birds. Shoo let her wand drop and climmed down t' fall.
"Queerest thing about t' lass were this," Grannie continued, "shoo were nakt, as nakt as ony hen-egg, an' that at five o'clock on a frosty April morn. Eh! but it made me dither to see her stannin' theer wi' niver a shift to her back. Well, I crept close to t' gert stone an' kept my een on her.
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