I hae heard that in ither places the folk dinnae believe in ghaists onymore, but that's no the way o it in Ballygellick. Here, you can hairdly set futt ootside wi oot skelpin intae a ghaist o some sort. But put your lug doon tae my neb an I'll tell ye a wee story that haippened nae lang syne.
Yin dailygaun, a pair o the eejits fae the clachan were reddin oot an aul sheuch that was aa culfed up. It was the end o the day an they stairted tae cairryin on an maggin aboot; weel, the shoon o yin o them, he was caaed Rab M'Blain, skited on the glaur an he fell doon on his erse. Noo, as Rab was spraughlin aboot tryin tae get up he saa somethin keekin oot o the face o the sheuch. He put his haun doon an it was haird, sae he hoked it oot.
Sae there he was, clocked in the glaur, glowerin doon at the thing: he jaloused it was maybe a stane at the furst. Belyve, the ither eejit, caaed Davie Harkness, came owre tae hae a wee keek an gied a quare gulder whan he saa it: "thon's a bane, a jaa bane, an it's no fae a baist!"
Weel, they swuthered aboot what tae dae, but decided that it micht be the body o some poor cratur sae they maun see if there were ony ither banes in the sheuch. They got doon on their hunkers an felt aboot in the dubs an soon they foond anither bane. Weel, they hoked it oot ana, but whan they looked they saa it was anither jaa bane. They kept hokin an foond anither, an anither, an anither forbye, but naethin ava but jaa banes - some wi aul yella teeth still in. Noo they were a wee feared, an jaloused there were ghaists ahint it.
They had gaithered up a hail puckle o banes afore lang - aboot a hunnerd I jalouse. Weel, they scratched their heids an wunnered should they caa The Peelers, but they decided no tae bother. Rab thoucht tae tak them hame tae think aboot it: it didnae feel richt tae lay them lyin aboot. Sae Rab won hame an broucht a muckle kist back wi him, an they put aa the jaa banes intae it an took it hame. He put it unner a spare bed in an ootby room an didnae think ony mair aboot it.
Hooaniver, Davie was fou yin nicht sae thoucht tae bide wi Rab for the nicht. He slept in thon bed wi the kist unner, though he didnae ken it was there. Aboot midnicht, Rab heard a quare gulder an ran doon the haa. Davie was clocked on the bed gurnin his een oot wi his hauns owre his lugs. Rab took him doonstairs whaur he calmed a wee an said he couldnae sleep wi aa the eldrich whusperin an clakkin in thonder room: it went on aa nicht, he said, though he couldnae unnerstaun a wurd o it.
Noo Rab had mind o the jaa banes an jaloused richt awa that it maun be them clakkin an yarnin awa tae yin anither. Sae he thoucht tae himsel that he maun be redd o them wi oot ony delay. He took them, kist ana, oot intae the Ballygellick Woods, oot thonder, an buried them deep in the yird. As he cairried the kist, he thoucht he could hear abin the wund, the faintest o whuspers.
An sae naebody warked oot whase jaa banes they were, nor why they wouldnae gie owre wi clakkin an whusperin, deid banes though they seemed tae be. But whan you're oot for a dander o a dailygaun, in Ballygellick woods, an you wheest, an prick up your lugs, you can hear them yet, on the wund, aye whusperin an clakkin, oot there amang the foonderin trees.
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