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Updated: May 16, 2025
My mother told it to me, and her mother to her, and so back through years that none can count. Yes, indeed; what little child does not know the story of the big brown bull of Norraway?" "I never heard of it before," said David. "To be sure; your mother did not live to talk to you poor little lad!" "Now, then, Nanna, tell it to me for my mother's sake."
It was, therefore, no uncommon thing for Durie to hear himself saluted by all the appellations generally applied to the poor persecuted class to which he was supposed to belong. "Ay, awa wi' the auld limmer," cried one, "and see that the barrels are fresh frae Norraway, and weel-lined wi' the bleezing tar." "Be sure and prick her weel," cried another; "the foul witch may be fireproof.
And he sat down on the cricket by her side, and took Vala on his knee; and Nanna laughed, and then, with the little formal importance of the reciter, said: "Well, so it shall be, then. Here beginneth the story of the big brown bull of Norraway and his fight with the deil." And the old tale fell from her lips full of charm, and David listened with all the delight of a child.
"Chuck the b y thing ower and trust to Providence for'd hangin' her. We better de that, ye' fool as drive to Norraway or some other place o' worship!" History tells us that Geordie believed this latter appeal to have been answered, as it fell calm, and the sea became still.
"You see, Vala," she said, touching the child's fingers and toes, "it was the old brown bull of Norraway, and he had a sore battle with the deil, and he carried off a great princess; and you may know how big he was, for he said to her, 'Eat out of my left ear, and drink out of my right ear, and put by the leavings. And ay they rode, and on they rode, till they came to a dark and awesome glen, and there the bull stopped and the lady lighted down.
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