Bunty and the Beastie

"Aberdeen Press," March 26, 1934

A lonely little family is living in an isolated area.  Then, they begin hearing the sound of a mysterious, invisible creature merrily chatting away to them…

No, it’s not Gef the Mongoose.  It’s the Scottish Beastie.

Nine-year-old Isabella “Bunty” Ross lived in the Tarves district of Aberdeenshire, Scotland with her grandparents,  Mr. and Mrs. Alexander Wilkie.  (The newspapers do not seem to have recorded what became of Bunty’s parents.)  Life in their rural cottage was comfortable enough for the child, but also dull and lonely.  Aside from the Wilkies, Bunty’s only companion was her black cat, Topsy.

Let me amend that.  She acquired an additional companion.  And it was one nobody could have expected.  

One day in December 1933, the little household heard a mysterious voice coming from behind a wall of their home.  At first, they were frightened, but by the time several months had passed, the three were chatting away with The Voice (which spoke in a “broad Buchan accent,”) as if it were an old friend coming to call.  It was better than the radio.

Mrs. Wilkie once asked it, “What are you?  Have you four legs?”

“Aye,” The Voice replied.

“Have you a tail?” she inquired.

“No, but I have a beak.”

The Voice informed them that it was fond of chicken, but declined to come out to get some, explaining that Mr. Wilkie had “plugged up the hole.”  (Soon after they moved into their cottage, Mr. Wilkie had filled in a small hole in one wall of the house.)

The “Beastie” (as the household soon dubbed their visitor) was both talented and versatile.  It could recite the alphabet, count up to twenty, say the Lord’s Prayer, and sing “A Bicycle Built For Two” and “Jesus Loves Me.”  Beastie occasionally talked to visitors, although it would, we are told, tell them “what it thought of them in a very straightforward manner when they became too inquisitive.”

In late March 1934, shortly after reports of this unusual houseguest hit the newspapers, it was announced that the mystery was solved.  Although Bunty had always been a fluent talker, she had recently developed a bad stutter.  That somehow led to her discovering “by accident” that she had a natural gift for ventriloquism.  She used her newfound talent to amuse herself by fooling everyone into thinking there was some mysterious talking creature living in their wall.  We are told that her secret was uncovered at her school.  During the reading lesson, Bunty’s teacher noticed something unusual about the girl’s voice, and came to the conclusion that the child was a ventriloquist.  When confronted with this revelation, the girl readily confessed.

Mystery solved!  Yay for teacher detectives!  Well, maybe.  And maybe not.  Despite these assertions that their little granddaughter had--no one could explain how--taught herself to throw her voice like an experienced professional, the Wilkies continued to insist otherwise.

“Bunty hid naething tae dee wi’t,” Mr. Wilkie told a reporter indignantly.  “I tell ye it wis a beastie thit wis ahin the wa’.”  He added that, despite what the newspapers claimed, the “Beastie” continued to speak after Bunty’s “confession.”  (“Bit naebody ‘ll believe ma.”)

How could the old couple continue to insist that something genuinely supernatural was going on?  Because both Mr. and Mrs. Wilkie, as well as a neighbor named Lizzie Stott, had frequently spoken with the “Beastie” while Bunty was away at school.

That is the last word we have about the Beastie.  The local newspapers, evidently feeling that things were getting a bit too weird, promptly dropped the story.