Meelin was my grandmothers native place. When she was a girl her parents made butter. Though they had a great deal of butter when going to bed at night they had very little butter in the morning. This happened for many weeks.
At last they watched the butter at night. A goat appeared in the Dairy. He started filling the butter into a barrel. My grand-mother's father stabbed the goat. When he had done this he no longer saw a goat but a very black ugly figure like those seen in the pictures of the bad angels. My grandmother said it was the devil who came to steal the butter.