Another tribe of water-fairies are the nixes, who frequently assume the appearance of beautiful maidens. On fine sunny days they sit on the banks of rivers or lakes, or on the branches of trees, combing and arranging their golden locks:
"Know you the Nixes, gay and fair?Their eyes are black, and green their hair,They lurk in sedgy shores."
A fairy or water-sprite that resides in the neighbourhood of the Orkneys is popularly known as Tangie, so-called fromtang,, the seaweed with which he is covered. Occasionally he makes his appearance as a little horse, and at other times as a man.[14]
Then there are the wood and forest folk of Germany, spirits inhabiting the forests, who stood in friendly relation to man, but are now so disgusted with the faithless world, that they have retired from it. Hence their precept—
"Peel no tree,Relate no dream,Pipeno bread,orBake no cumin in bread,So will God help thee in thy need."
On one occasion a "forest-wife," who had just tasted a new baked-loaf, given as an offering, was heard screaming aloud:
"They've baken for me cumin bread,That on this house brings great distress."
The prosperity of the poor peasant was soon on the wane, and before long he was reduced to abject poverty.[15] These legends, in addition to illustrating the fairy mythology of bygone years, are additionally interesting from their connection with the plants and flowers, most of which are familiar to us from our childhood.
Footnotes:
1. See Crofton Croker's "Fairy Legends and Traditions of the South of Ireland," 1862, p. 98.
2. Folkard's "Plant-lore Legends and Lyrics," p. 30.
3. Friend, "Flowers and Flower Lore," p. 34.
4. Thorpe's "Northern Mythology," ii. 81-2.
5. Thorpe's "Northern Mythology," iii. 266.
6. See "The Phytologist," 1862, p. 236-8.
7. "Folk-lore of Shakespeare," p. 15.
8. See Friend's "Flower Lore," i. 34.
9. Thorpe's "Northern Mythology," iii. 266.
10. Friend's "Flower Lore," i. 27.
11. See Keightley's "Fairy Mythology," p. 231.
12. Grimm's "Teut. Myth.," 1883, ii. 451;
13. "Asiatic Researches," i. 345.
14. See Keightley's "Fairy Mythology," p. 173.
15. Thorpe's "Northern Mythology," i. 251-3.
Plants have always been largely used for testing the fidelity of lovers, and at the present day are still extensively employed for this purpose by the rustic maiden. As in the case of medical charms, more virtue would often seem to reside in the mystic formula uttered while the flower is being secretly gathered, than in any particular quality of the flower itself. Then, again, flowers, from their connection with certain festivals, have been consulted in love matters, and elsewhere we have alluded to the knowledge they have long been supposed to give in dreams, after the performance of certain incantations.
Turning to some of the well-known charm formulas, may be mentioned that known as "a clover of two," the mode of gathering it constituting the charm itself:
"A clover, a clover of two,Put it in your right shoe;The first young man you meet,In field, street, or lane,You'll get him, or one of his name."
Then there is the hempseed formula, and one founded on the luck of an apple-pip, which, when seized between the finger and thumb, is supposed to pop in the direction of the lover's abode; an illustration of which we subjoin as still used in Lancashire:
"Pippin, pippin, paradise,Tell me where my true love lies,East, west, north, and south,Pilling Brig, or Cocker Mouth."
The old custom, too, of throwing an apple-peel over the head, marriage or single blessedness being foretold by its remaining whole or breaking, and of the peel so cast forming the initial of the future loved one, finds many adherents. Equally popular, too, was the practice of divining by a thistle blossom. When anxious to ascertain who loved her most, a young woman would take three or four heads of thistles, cut off their points, and assign to each thistle the name of an admirer, laying them under her pillow. On the following morning the thistle which has put forth a fresh sprout will denote the man who loves her most.
There are numerous charms connected with the ash-leaf, and among those employed in the North of England we may quote the following:
"The even ash-leaf in my left hand,The first man I meet shall be my husband;The even ash-leaf in my glove,The first I meet shall be my love;The even ash-leaf in my breast,The first man I meet's whom I love best;The even ash-leaf in my hand,The first I meet shall be my man.
Even ash, even ash, I pluck thee,This night my true love for to see,Neither in his rick nor in his rear,But in the clothes he does every day wear."
And there is the well-known saying current throughout the country:
"If you find an even ash or a four-leaved clover,Rest assured you'll see your true love ere the day is over."
Longfellow alludes to the husking of the maize among the American colonists, an event which was always accompanied by various ceremonies, one of which he thus forcibly describes:
"In the golden weather the maize was husked, and themaidensBlushed at each blood-red ear, for that betokened a lover,But at the crooked laughed, and called it a thief in thecorn-field:Even the blood-red ear to Evangeline brought not herlover."
Charms of this kind are common, and vary in different localities, being found extensively on the Continent, where perhaps even greater importance is attached to them than in our own country. Thus, a popular French one—which many of our young people also practise—is for lovers to test the sincerity of their affections by taking a daisy and plucking its leaflets off one by one, saying, "Does he love me?—a little—much—passionately—not at all!" the phrase which falls to the last leaflet forming the answer to the inquiry:
"La blanche et simple Paquerette,Que ton coeur consult surtout,Dit, Ton amant, tendre fillette,T'aime, un peu, beaucoup, point du tout."
Perhaps Brown alludes to the same species of divination when he writes of:
"The gentle daisy with her silver crown,Worn in the breast of many a shepherd lass."
In England the marigold, which is carefully excluded from the flowers with which German maidens tell their fortunes as unfavourable to love, is often used for divination, and in Germany the star-flower and dandelion.
Among some of the ordinary flowers in use for love-divination may be mentioned the poppy, with its "prophetic leaf," and the old-fashioned "bachelor's buttons," which was credited with possessing some magical effect upon the fortunes of lovers. Hence its blossoms were carried in the pocket, success in love being indicated in proportion as they lost or retained their freshness. Browne alludes to the primrose, which "maidens as a true-love in their bosoms place;" and in the North of England the kemps or spikes of the ribwort plantain are used as love-charms. The mode of procedure as practised in Northamptonshire is thus picturesquely given by Clare in his "Shepherd's Calendar:":
"Or trying simple charms and spells,Which rural superstition tells,They pull the little blossom threadsFrom out the knotweed's button heads,And put the husk, with many a smile,In their white bosom for a while;
Then, if they guess aright the swainTheir love's sweet fancies try to gain,'Tis said that ere it lies an hour,'Twill blossom with a second flower,And from the bosom's handkerchiefBloom as it ne'er had lost a leaf."
Then there are the downy thistle-heads, which the rustic maiden names after her lovers, in connection with which there are many old rhymes. Beans have not lost their popularity; and the leaves of the laurel still reveal the hidden fortune, having been also burnt in olden times by girls to win back their errant lovers.
The garden scene in "Faust" is a well-known illustration of the employment of the centaury or bluebottle for testing the faith of lovers, for Margaret selects it as the floral indication whence she may learn the truth respecting Faust:
"And that scarlet poppies around like a bower,The maiden found her mystic flower.'Now, gentle flower, I pray thee tellIf my love loves, and loves me well;So may the fall of the morning dewKeep the sun from fading thy tender blue;Now I remember the leaves for my lot—He loves me not—he loves me—he loves me not—He loves me! Yes, the last leaf—yes!I'll pluck thee not for that last sweet guess;He loves me!' 'Yes,' a dear voice sighed;And her lover stands by Margaret's side."
Another mode of love-divination formerly much practised among the lower orders was known as "peascod-wooing." The cook, when shelling green peas, would, if she chanced to find a pod havingnine, lay it on the lintel of the kitchen-door, when the first man who happened to enter was believed to be her future sweetheart; an allusion to which is thus given by Gay:
"As peascod once I pluck'd, I chanced to seeOne that was closely fill'd with three times three,Which, when I cropp'd, I safely home couvey'd,And o'er the door the spell in secret laid.The latch mov'd up, when who should first come in,But, in his proper person, Lublerkin."
On the other hand, it was customary in the North of England to rub a young woman with pease-straw should her lover prove unfaithful:
"If you meet a bonnie lassie,Gie her a kiss and let her gae;If you meet a dirty hussey,Fie, gae rub her o'er wi' strae!"
From an old Spanish proverb it would seem that the rosemary has long been considered as in some way connected with love:
"Who passeth by the rosemarieAnd careth not to take a spraye,For woman's love no care has he,Nor shall he though he live for aye."
Of flowers and plants employed as love-charms on certain festivals may be noticed the bay, rosebud, and the hempseed on St. Valentine's Day, nuts on St. Mark's Eve, and the St. John's wort on Midsummer Eve.
In Denmark[1] many an anxious lover places the St. John's wort between the beams under the roof for the purpose of divination, the usual custom being to put one plant for herself and another for her sweetheart. Should these grow together, it is an omen of an approaching wedding. In Brittany young people prove the good faith of their lovers by a pretty ceremony. On St. John's Eve, the men, wearing bunches of green wheat ears, and the women decorated with flax blossoms, assemble round an old historic stone and place upon it their wreaths. Should these remain fresh for some time after, the lovers represented by them are to be united; but should they wither and die away, it is a certain proof that the love will as rapidly disappear. Again, in Sicily it is customary for young women to throw from their windows an apple into the street, which, should a woman pick up, it is a sign that the girl will not be married during the year. Sometimes it happens that the apple is not touched, a circumstance which indicates that the young lady, when married, will ere long be a widow. On this festival, too, the orpine or livelong has long been in request, popularly known as "Midsummer men," whereas in Italy the house-leek is in demand. The moss-rose, again, in years gone by, was plucked, with sundry formalities, on Midsummer Eve for love-divination, an allusion to which mode of forecasting the future, as practised in our own country, occurs in the poem of "The Cottage Girl:"
"The moss-rose that, at fall of dew,Ere eve its duskier curtain drew,Was freshly gathered from its stem,She values as the ruby gem;And, guarded from the piercing air,With all an anxious lover's care,She bids it, for her shepherd's sake,Awake the New Year's frolic wake:When faded in its altered hue,She reads—the rustic is untrue!But if its leaves the crimson paint,Her sick'ning hopes no longer faint;The rose upon her bosom worn,She meets him at the peep of morn."
On the Continent the rose is still thought to possess mystic virtues in love matters, as in Thuringia, where girls foretell their future by means of rose-leaves.
A ceremony belonging to Hallowe'en is observed in Scotland with some trepidation, and consists in eating an apple before a looking-glass, when the face of the desired one will be seen. It is thus described by Burns:
"Wee Jenny to her granny says,'Will ye gae wi' me, granny?I'll eat the apple at the glassI gat frae uncle Johnny.'She fuff't her pipe wi' sic a lunt,In wrath she was sae vap'rin,She notic't na an aizle bruntHer braw new worset apronOut thro' that night.
'Ye little skelpie limmer's face!I daur you try sic sportin'As seek the foul thief ony place,For him to spae your fortune;Nae doubt but ye may get a sight!Great cause ye hae to fear it,For mony a ane has gotten a fright,And lived and died deleeretOn sic a night.'"
Hallowe'en also is still a favourite anniversary for all kinds of nut-charms, and St. Thomas was long invoked when the prophetic onion named after him was placed under the pillow. Rosemary and thyme were used on St. Agnes' Eve with this formula:
"St. Agnes, that's to lovers kind,Come, ease the troubles of my mind."
In Austria, on Christmas Eve, apples are used for divination. According to Mr. Conway, the apple must be cut in two in the dark, without being touched, the left half being placed in the bosom, and the right laid behind the door. If this latter ceremony be carefully carried out, the desired one may be looked for at midnight near the right half. He further tells us that in the Erzgebirge, the maiden, having slept on St. Andrew's, or Christmas, night with an apple under her pillow, "takes her stand with it in her hand on the next festival of the Church thereafter; and the first man whom she sees, other than a relative, will become her husband."
Again, in Bohemia, on Christmas Eve, there is a pretty practice for young people to fix coloured wax-lights in the shells of the first nuts they have opened that day, and to float them in water, after silently assigning to each the name of some fancied wooer. He whose little barque is the first to approach the girl will be her future husband; but, on the other hand, should an unwelcome suitor seem likely to be the first, she blows against it, and so, by impeding its progress, allows the favoured barque to win.
In very early times flowers were mcuh in request as love-philtres, various allusions to which occur in the literature of most ages. Thus, in "A Midsummer Night's Dream," Oberon tells Puck to place a pansy on the eyes of Titania, in order that, on awaking, she may fall in love with the first object she encounters. Gerarde speaks of the carrot as "serving for love matters," and adds that the root of the wild species is more effectual than that of the garden. Vervain has long been in repute as a love-philtre, and in Germany now-a-days endive-seed is sold for its supposed power to influence the affections. The root of the male fern was in years gone by used in love-philtres, and hence the following allusion:
"'Twas the maiden's matchless beautyThat drew my heart a-nigh;Not the fern-root potion,But the glance of her blue eye."
Then there is the basil with its mystic virtues, and the cumin-see and cyclamen, which from the time of Theophrastus have been coveted for their magic virtues. The purslane, crocus, and periwinkle were thought to inspire love; while the agnus castus and the Saraca Indica (one of the sacred plants of India), a species of the willow, were supposed to drive away all feelings of love. Similarly in Voigtland, the common basil was regarded as a test of chastity, withering in the hands of the impure. The mandrake, which is still worn in France as a love-charm, was employed by witches in the composition of their philtres; and in Bohemia, it is said that if a maiden can secretly put a sprig of the common clover into her lover's shoe ere he sets out on a journey, he will be faithful to her during his absence. As far back as the time of Pliny, the water-lily was regarded as an antidote to the love-philtre, and the amaranth was used for curbing the affections. On the other hand, Our Lady's bedstraw and the mallow were supposed to have the reverse effect, while the myrtle not only created love, but preserved it. The Sicilians still employ hemp to secure the affections of those they love, and gather it with various formalities,[2] fully believing in its potency. Indeed, charms of this kind are found throughout the world, every country having its own special plants in demand for this purpose. However whimsical they may seem, they at any rate have the sanction of antiquity, and can claim an antecedent history certainly worthy of a better cause.
Footnotes:
1. Thorpe's "Northern Mythology."
2.Fraser's Magazine, 1870, p. 720.
The importance attached to dreams in all primitive and savage culture accounts for the significance ascribed to certain plants found by visitors to dreamland. At the outset, it may be noticed that various drugs and narcotic potions have, from time immemorial, been employed for producing dreams and visions—a process still in force amongst uncivilised tribes. Thus the Mundrucus of North Brazil, when desirous of gaining information on any special subject, would administer to their seers narcotic drinks, so that in their dreams they might be favoured with the knowledge required. Certain of the Amazon tribes use narcotic plants for encouraging visions, and the Californian Indians, writes Mr. Tylor,[1] "would give children narcotic potions, to gain from the ensuing visions information about their enemies;" whilst, he adds, "the Darien Indians used the seeds of theDatura sanguincato bring on in children prophetic delirium, in which they revealed hidden treasure." Similarly, the Delaware medicine-men used to drink decoctions of an intoxicating nature, "until their minds became wildered, so that they saw extraordinary visions."[2]
The North American Indians also held intoxication by tobacco to be supernatural ecstasy. It is curious to find a survival of this source of superstition in modern European folk-lore. Thus, on the Continent, many a lover puts the four-leaved clover under his pillow to dream of his lady-love; and in our own country, daisy-roots are used by the rustic maiden for the same purpose. The Russians are familiar with a certain herb, known as theson-trava, a dream herb, which has been identified with thePulsatilla patens,and is said to blossom in April, and to have an azure-coloured flower. When placed under the pillow, it will induce dreams, which are generally supposed to be fulfilled. It has been suggested that it was from its title of "tree of dreams" that the elm became a prophetic tree, having been selected by Virgil in the Aeneid (vi.) as the roosting-place of dreams in gloomy Orcus:
"Full in the midst a spreading elm displayedHis aged arms, and cast a mighty shade;Each trembling leaf with some light visions teems,And leaves impregnated with airy dreams."
At the present day, the yarrow or milfoil is used by love-sick maidens, who are directed to pluck the mystic plant from a young man's grave, repeating meanwhile this formula:
"Yarrow, sweet yarrow, the first that I have found, In the name of Jesus Christ I pluck it from the ground; As Jesus loved sweet Mary and took her for His dear, So in a dream this night I hope my true love will appear."
Indeed, many other plants are in demand for this species of love-divination, some of which are associated with certain days and festivals. In Sweden, for instance, "if on Midsummer night nine kinds of flowers are laid under the head, a youth or maiden will dream of his or her sweetheart."[3] Hence in these simple and rustic love-charms may be traced similar beliefs as prevail among rude communities.
Again, among many of the American Indian tribes we find, according to Mr. Dorman,[4] "a mythical tree or vine, which has a sacredness connected with it of peculiar significance, forming a connecting-link and medium of communication between the world of the living and the dead. It is generally used by the spirit as a ladder to pass downward and upward upon; the Ojibways having possessed one of these vines, the upper end of which was twined round a star." He further adds that many traditions are told of attempts to climb these heavenly ladders; and, "if a young man has been much favoured with dreams, and the people believe he has the art of looking into futurity, the path is open to the highest honours. The future prophet puts down his dreams in pictographs, and when he has a collection of these, if they prove true in any respect, then this record of his revelations is appealed to as proof of his prophetic power." But, without enumerating further instances of these savage dream-traditions, which are closely allied with the animistic theories of primitive culture, we would turn to those plants which modern European folk-lore has connected with dreamland. These are somewhat extensive, but a brief survey of some of the most important ones will suffice to indicate their general significance.
Firstly, to dream of white flowers has been supposed to prognosticate death; with which may be compared the popular belief that "if a white rosebush puts forth unexpectedly, it is a sign of death to the nearest house;" dream-omens in many cases reflecting the superstitions of daily life. In Scotch ballads the birch is associated with the dead, an illustration of which we find in the subjoined lines:—
"I dreamed a dreary dream last nicht;God keep us a' frae sorrow!I dreamed I pu'd the birk sae green,Wi' my true love on Yarrow.
I'll redde your dream, my sister dear,I'll tell you a' your sorrow;You pu'd the birk wi' your true love;He's killed,—he's killed on Yarrow."
Of the many plants which have been considered of good omen when seen in dreams, may be mentioned the palm-tree, olive, jasmine, lily, laurel, thistle, thorn, wormwood, currant, pear, &c.; whereas the greatest luck attaches to the rose. On the other hand, equally numerous are the plants which denote misfortune. Among these may be included the plum, cherry, withered roses, walnut, hemp, cypress, dandelion, &c. Beans are still said to produce bad dreams and to portend evil; and according to a Leicestershire saying, "If you wish for awful dreams or desire to go crazy, sleep in a bean-field all night." Some plants are said to foretell long life, such as the oak, apricot, apple, box, grape, and fig; and sickness is supposed to be presaged by such plants as the elder, onion, acorn, and plum.
Love and marriage are, as might be expected, well represented in the dream-flora; a circumstance, indeed, which has not failed to impress the young at all times. Thus, foremost amongst the flowers which indicate success in love is the rose, a fact which is not surprising when it is remembered how largely this favourite of our gardens enters into love-divinations. Then there is the clover, to dream of which foretells not only a happy marriage, but one productive of wealth and prosperity. In this case, too, it must be remembered the clover has long been reckoned as a mystic plant, having in most European countries been much employed for the purposes of divination. Of further plants credited as auguring well for love affairs are the raspberry, pomegranate, cucumber, currant, and box; but the walnut implies unfaithfulness, and the act of cutting parsley is an omen that the person so occupied will sooner or later be crossed in love. This ill-luck attached to parsley is in some measure explained from the fact that in many respects it is an unlucky plant. It is a belief, as we have noticed elsewhere, widely spread in Devonshire, that to transplant parsley is to commit a serious offence against the guardian genius who presides over parsley-beds, certain to be punished either on the offender himself or some member of his family within the course of the year. Once more "to dream of cutting cabbage," writes Mr. Folkard,[5] "Denotes jealousy on the part of wife, husband, or lover, as the case may be. To dream of any one else cutting them portends an attempt by some person to create jealousy in the loved one's mind. To dream of eating cabbages implies sickness to loved ones and loss of money." The bramble, an important plant in folk-lore, is partly unlucky, and, "To dream of passing through places covered with brambles portends troubles; if they prick you, secret enemies will do you an injury with your friends; if they draw blood, expect heavy losses in trade." But to dream of passing through brambles unhurt denotes a triumph over enemies. To dream of being pricked with briars, says the "Royal Dream Book,"[6] "shows that the person dreaming has an ardent desire to something, and that young folks dreaming thus are in love, who prick themselves in striving to gather their rose."
Some plants are said to denote riches, such as the oak, marigold, pear and nut tree, while the gathering of nuts is said to presage the discovery of unexpected wealth. Again, to dream of fruit or flowers out of season is a bad omen, a notion, indeed, with which we find various proverbs current throughout the country. Thus, the Northamptonshire peasant considers the blooming of the apple-tree after the fruit is ripe as a certain omen of death—a belief embodied in the following proverb:
"A bloom upon the apple-tree when the apples are ripe,Is a sure termination to somebody's life."
And once more, according to an old Sussex adage—
"Fruit out of seasonSounds out of reason."
On the other hand, to dream of fruit or any sort of crop during its proper season is still an indication of good luck.[7] Thus it is lucky to dream of daisies in spring-time or summer, but just the reverse in autumn or winter. Without enumerating further instances of this kind, we may quote the subjoined rhyme relating to the onion, as a specimen of many similar ones scattered here and there in various countries:[8]
"To dream of eating onions meansMuch strife in thy domestic scenes,Secrets found out or else betrayed,And many falsehoods made and said."
Many plants in dream-lore have more than one meaning attached to them. Thus from the, "Royal Dream Book" we learn that yellow flowers "predict love mixed with jealousy, and that you will have more children to maintain than what justly belong to you." To dream of garlic indicates the discovery of hidden treasures, but the approach of some domestic quarrel.
Cherries, again, indicate inconstancy; but one would scarcely expect to find the thistle regarded as lucky; for, according to an old piece of folk-lore, to dream of being surrounded by this plant is a propitious sign, foretelling that the person will before long have some pleasing intelligence. In the same way a similar meaning in dream-lore attaches to the thorn.
According to old dream-books, the dreaming of yew indicates the death of an aged person, who will leave considerable wealth behind him; while the violet is said to devote advancement in life. Similarly, too, the vine foretells prosperity, "for which," says a dream interpreter, "we have the example of Astyages, king of the Medes, who dreamed that his daughter brought forth a vine, which was a prognostic of the grandeur, riches, and felicity of the great Cyrus, who was born of her after this dream."
Plucking ears of corn signifies the existence of secret enemies, and Mr. Folkard quotes an old authority which tells us that the juniper is potent in dreams. Thus, "it is unlucky to dream of the tree itself, especially if the person be sick; but to dream of gathering the berries, if it be in winter, denotes prosperity. To dream of the actual berries signifies that the dreamer will shortly arrive at great honours and become an important person. To the married it foretells the birth of a male child."
Again, eating almonds signifies a journey, its success or otherwise being denoted by their tasting sweet or the contrary. Dreaming of grass is an auspicious omen, provided it be green and fresh; but if it be withered and decayed, it is a sign of the approach of misfortune and sickness, followed perhaps by death. Woe betide, too, the person who dreams that he is cutting grass.
Certain plants produce dreams on particular occasions. The mugwort and plantain have long been associated with Midsummer; and, according to Thomas Hill in his "Natural and Artificial Conclusions," a rare coal is to be found under these plants but one hour in the day, and one day in the year. When Aubrey happened to be walking behind Montague House at twelve o'clock on Midsummer day, he relates how he saw about twenty-two young women, most of them well dressed, and apparently all very busy weeding. On making inquiries, he was informed that they were looking for a coal under the root of a plantain, to put beneath their heads that night, when they would not fail to dream of their future husbands. But, unfortunately for this credulity, as an old author long ago pointed out, the coal is nothing but an old dead root, and that it may be found almost any day and hour when sought for. By lovers the holly has long been supposed to have mystic virtues as a dream-plant when used on the eve of any of the following festivals:
Christmas,New Year's Day,Midsummer, andAll Hallowe'en.
According to the mode of procedure practised in the northern counties, the anxious maiden, before retiring to rest, places three pails full of water in her bedroom, and then pins to her night-dress three leaves of green holly opposite to her heart, after which she goes to sleep. Believing in the efficacy of the charm, she persuades herself that she will be roused from her first slumber by three yells, as if from the throats of three bears, succeeded by as many hoarse laughs. When these have died away, the form of her future husband will appear, who will show his attachment to her by changing the position of the water-pails, whereas if he have no particular affection he will disappear without even touching them.
Then, of course, from time immemorial all kinds of charms have been observed on St. Valentine's Day to produce prophetic dreams. A popular charm consisted of placing two bay leaves, after sprinkling them with rose-water, across the pillow, repeating this formula:—
"Good Valentine, be kind to me,In dream let me my true love see."
St. Luke's Day was in years gone by a season for love-divination, and among some of the many directions given we may quote the subjoined, which is somewhat elaborate:—
"Take marigold flowers, a sprig of marjoram, thyme, and a little wormwood; dry them before a fire, rub them to powder, then sift it through a fine piece of lawn; simmer these with a small quantity of virgin honey, in white vinegar, over a slow fire; with this anoint your stomach, breasts, and lips, lying down, and repeat these words thrice:—
'St Luke, St. Luke, be kind to me,In dream let me my true love see!'
This said, hasten to sleep, and in the soft slumbers of night's repose,the very man whom you shall marry shall appear before you."
Lastly, certain plants have been largely used by gipsies and fortune-tellers for invoking dreams, and in many a country village these are plucked and given to the anxious inquirer with various formulas.
Footnotes:
1. "Primitive Culture," 1873, ii. 416, 417.
2. See Dorman's "Primitive Superstition," p. 68.
3. Thorpe's "Northern Mythology," 1851, ii. 108.
4. "Primitive Superstitions," p. 67.
5. "Plant-lore Legends and Lyrics," p. 265.
6. Quoted in Brand's "Popular Antiquities," 1849, iii. 135.
7. See Friend's "Flower-Lore," i. 207.
8. Folkard's "Plant-lore Legends and Lyrics," p. 477.
The influence of the weather on plants is an agricultural belief which is firmly credited by the modern husbandman. In many instances his meteorological notions are the result of observation, although in some cases the reason assigned for certain pieces of weather-lore is far from obvious. Incidental allusion has already been made to the astrological doctrine of the influence of the moon's changes on plants—a belief which still retains its hold in most agricultural districts. It appears that in years gone by "neither sowing, planting, nor grafting was ever undertaken without a scrupulous attention to the increase or waning of the moon;"[1] and the advice given by Tusser in his "Five Hundred Points of Husbandry" is not forgotten even at the present day:—
"Sow peas and beans in the wane of the moon,Who soweth them sooner, he soweth too soon,That they with the planet may rest and rise,And flourish with bearing, most plentiful-wise."
Many of the old gardening books give the same advice, although by some it has been severely ridiculed.
Scott, in his "Discoverie of Witchcraft," notes how, "the poor husbandman perceiveth that the increase of the moon maketh plants fruitful, so as in the full moone they are in best strength, decaying in the wane, and in the conjunction do entirely wither and fade." Similarly the growth of mushrooms is said to be affected by the weather, and in Devonshire apples "shrump up" if picked during a waning moon.[2]
One reason, perhaps, for the attention so universally paid to the moon's changes in agricultural pursuits is, writes Mr. Farrer, "that they are far more remarkable than any of the sun's, and more calculated to inspire dread by the nocturnal darkness they contend with, and hence are held in popular fancy nearly everywhere, to cause, portend, or accord with changes in the lot of mortals, and all things terrestrial."[3]
On this assumption may be explained the idea that the, "moon's wane makes things on earth to wane; when it is new or full it is everywhere the proper season for new crops to be sown." In the Hervey Islands cocoa-nuts are generally planted in the full of the moon, the size of the latter being regarded as symbolical of the ultimate fulness of the fruit.
In the same way the weather of certain seasons of the year is supposed to influence the vegetable world, and in Rutlandshire we are told that "a green Christmas brings a heavy harvest;" but a full moon about Christmas Day is unlucky, hence the adage:
"Light Christmas, light wheatsheaf,Dark Christmas, heavy wheatsheaf."
If the weather be clear on Candlemas Day "corn and fruits will then be dear," and "whoever doth plant or sow on Shrove Tuesday, it will always remain green." According to a piece of weather-lore in Sweden, there is a saying that to strew ash branches in a field on Ash Wednesday is equivalent to three days' rain and three days' sun. Rain on Easter Day foretells a good harvest but poor hay crop, while thunder on All Fool's Day "brings good crops of corn and hay." According to the "Shepherd's Calendar," if, "Midsummer Day be never so little rainy the hazel and walnut will be scarce; corn smitten in many places; but apples, pears, and plums will not be hurt." And we are further reminded:—
"Till St. James's Day be come and gone,There may be hops or there may be none."
Speaking of hops, it is said, "plenty of ladybirds, plenty of hops." It is also a popular notion among our peasantry that if a drop of rain hang on an oat at this season there will be a good crop. Another agricultural adage says:—
"No tempest, good July, lest corn come off bluely."
Then there is the old Michaelmas rhyme:—
"At Michaelmas time, or a little before,Half an apple goes to the core;At Christmas time, or a little after,A crab in the hedge, and thanks to the grafter."
On the other hand, the blossoming of plants at certain times is said to be an indication of the coming weather, and so when the bramble blooms early in June an early harvest may be expected; and in the northern counties the peasant judges of the advance of the year by the appearance of the daisy, affirming that "spring has not arrived till you can set your foot on twelve daisies." We are also told that when many hawthorn blossoms are seen a severe winter will follow; and, according to Wilsford, "the broom having plenty of blossoms is a sign of a fruitful year of corn." A Surrey proverb tells us that "It's always cold when the blackthorn comes into flower;" and there is the rhyme which reminds us that:—
"If the oak is out before the ash,'Twill be a summer of wet and splash;But if the ash is before the oak,'Twill be a summer of fire and smoke."
There are several versions of this piece of weather-lore, an old Kentish one being "Oak, smoke; ash, quash;" and according to a version given in Notes and Queries (1st Series v. 71):—
"If the oak's before the ash, then you'll only get a splash,If the ash precedes the oak, then you may expect a soak."
From the "Shepherd's Calendar" we learn that, "If in the fall of the leaf in October many leaves wither on the boughs and hang there, it betokens a frosty winter and much snow," with which may be compared a Devonshire saying:—
"If good apples you would haveThe leaves must go into the grave."
Or, in other words, "you must plant your trees in the fall of the leaf."And again, "Apples, pears, hawthorn-quick, oak; set them atAll-hallow-tide and command them to prosper; set them at Candlemas andentreat them to grow."
In Germany,[4] too, there is a rhyme which may be thus translated:—
"When the hawthorn bloom too early shows,We shall have still many snows."
In the same way the fruit of trees and plants was regarded as a prognostication of the ensuing weather, and Wilsford tells us that "great store of walnuts and almonds presage a plentiful year of corn, especially filberts." The notion that an abundance of haws betokens a hard winter is still much credited, and has given rise to the familiar Scotch proverb:—
"Mony haws,Mony snaws."
Another variation of the same adage in Kent is, "A plum year, a dumb year," and, "Many nits, many pits," implying that the abundance of nuts in the autumn indicates the "pits" or graves of those who shall succumb to the hard and inclement weather of winter; but, on the other hand, "A cherry year, a merry year." A further piece of weather-lore tells us:—
"Many rains, many rowans;Many rowans, many yawns,"
The meaning being that an abundance of rowans—the fruit of the mountain-ash—denote a deficient harvest.
Among further sayings of this kind may be noticed one relating to the onion, which is thus:—
"Onion's skin very thin,Mild-winter's coming in;Onion's skin thick and tough,Coming winter cold and rough."
Again, many of our peasantry have long been accustomed to arrange their farming pursuits from the indications given them by sundry trees and plants. Thus it is said—
"When the sloe tree is as white as a sheet,Sow your barley whether it be dry or wet."
With which may be compared another piece of weather-lore:—
"When the oak puts on his gosling grey,'Tis time to sow barley night or day."
The leafing of the elm has from time immemorial been made to regulate agricultural operations, and hence the old rule:—
"When the elmen leaf is as big as a mouse's ear,Then to sow barley never fear.When the elmen leaf is as big as an ox's eye,Then say I, 'Hie, boys, hie!'"
A Warwickshire variation is:—
"When elm leaves are big as a shilling,Plant kidney beans, if to plant 'em you're willing.When elm leaves are as big as a penny,Youmustplant kidney beans if you mean to have any."
But if the grass grow in January, the husbandman is recommended to "lock his grain in the granary," while a further proverb informs us that:—
"On Candlemas Day if the thorns hang a drop,You are sure of a good pea crop."
In bygone times the appearance of the berries of the elder was held to indicate the proper season for sowing wheat:—
"With purple fruit when elder branches bend,And their high hues the hips and cornels lend,Ere yet chill hoar-frost comes, or sleety rain,Sow with choice wheat the neatly furrowed plain."
The elder is not without its teaching, and according to a popular old proverb:—
"When the elder is white, brew and bake a peck,When the elder is black, brew and bake a sack."
According to an old proverb, "You must look for grass on the top of the oak tree," the meaning being, says Ray, that "the grass seldom springs well before the oak begins to put forth."
In the Western Counties it is asserted that frost ceases as soon as the mulberry tree bursts into leaf, with which may be compared the words of Autolycus in the "Winter's Tale" (iv. 3):—
"When daffodils begin to peer,With heigh! the doxy over the dale,Why, then conies in the sweet o' the year."
The dairyman is recommended in autumn to notice the appearance of the fern, because:—
"When the fern is as high as a ladle,You may sleep as long as you are able.When the fern begins to look red,Then milk is good with brown bread."
Formerly certain agricultural operations were regulated by the seasons, and an old rule tells the farmer—
"Upon St. David's Day, put oats and barley in the clay."
Another version being:—
"Sow peas and beans on David and Chad,Be the weather good or bad."
A Somersetshire piece of agricultural lore fixes an earlier date, and bids the farmer to "sow or set beans in Candlemas waddle." In connection with the inclement weather that often prevails throughout the spring months it is commonly said, "They that go to their corn in May may come weeping away," but "They that go in June may come back with a merry tune." Then there is the following familiar pretty couplet, of which there are several versions:—
"The bee doth love the sweetest flower,So doth the blossom the April shower."
In connection with beans, there is a well-known adage which says:—
"Be it weal or be it woe,Beans should blow before May go."
Of the numerous other items of plant weather-lore, it is said that "March wind wakes the ether (i. e., adder) and blooms the whin;" and many of our peasantry maintain that:—
"A peck of March dust and a shower in May,Makes the corn green and the fields gay."
It should also be noted that many plants are considered good barometers. Chickweed, for instance, expands its leaves fully when fine weather is to follow; but "if it should shut up, then the traveller is to put on his greatcoat."[5] The same, too, is said to be the case with the pimpernel, convolvulus, and clover; while if the marigold does not open its petals by seven o'clock in the morning, either rain or thunder may be expected in the course of the day. According to Wilsford, "tezils, or fuller's thistle, being gathered and hanged up in the house, where the air may come freely to it, upon the alteration of cold and windy weather will grow smoother, and against rain will close up its prickles." Once more, according to the "Shepherd's Calendar," "Chaff, leaves, thistle-down, or such light things whisking about and turning round foreshows tempestuous winds;" And Coles, in his introduction to the "Knowledge of Plants," informs us that, "If the down flieth off colt's-foot, dandelion, and thistles when there is no wind, it is a sign of rain."
Some plants, again, have gained a notoriety from opening or shutting their flowers at the sun's bidding; in allusion to which Perdita remarks in the "Winter's Tale" (iv. 3):—
"The marigold, that goes to bed with the sun, and with him rises weeping."
It was also erroneously said, like the sun-flower, to turn its blossoms to the sun, the latter being thus described by Thomson:—
"The lofty follower of the sun,Sad when he sets, shuts up her yellow leaves,Drooping all night, and, when he warm returns,Points her enamour'd bosom to his ray."
Another plant of this kind is the endive, which is said to open its petals at eight o'clock in the morning, and to close them at four in the afternoon. Thus we are told how:—
"On upland slopes the shepherds markThe hour when, to the dial true,Cichorium to the towering lark,Lifts her soft eye, serenely blue."
And as another floral index of the time of day may be noticed the goat's-beard, opening at sunrise and closing at noon—hence one of its popular names of "Go to bed at noon." This peculiarity is described by Bishop Mant:—
"And goodly now the noon-tide hour,When from his high meridian towerThe sun looks down in majesty,What time about, the grassy lea.The goat's-beard, prompt his rise to hail,With broad expanded disk, in veilClose mantling wraps its yellow head,And goes, as peasants say, to bed."
The dandelion has been nicknamed the peasant's clock, its flowers opening very early in the morning; while its feathery seed-tufts have long been in requisition as a barometer with children:—
"Dandelion, with globe of down,The schoolboy's clock in every town,Which the truant puffs amainTo conjure lost hours back again."
Among other flowers possessing a similar feature may be noticed the wild succory, creeping mallow, purple sandwort, small bindweed, common nipplewort, and smooth sow-thistle. Then of course there is the pimpernel, known as the shepherd's clock and poor man's weather-glass; while the small purslane and the common garden lettuce are also included in the flower-clock.[6]
Among further items of weather-lore associated with May, we are told how he that "sows oats in May gets little that way," and "He who mows in May will have neither fruit nor hay." Calm weather in June "sets corn in tune;" and a Suffolk adage says:—
"Cut your thistles before St. John,You will have two instead of one."
But "Midsummer rain spoils hay and grain," whereas it is commonly said that,
"A leafy May, and a warm June,Bring on the harvest very soon."
Again, boisterous wet weather during the month of July is to be deprecated, for, as the old adage runs:—
"No tempest, good July,Lest the corn look surly."
Flowers of this kind are very numerous, and under a variety of forms prevail largely in our own and other countries, an interesting collection of which have been collected by Mr. Swainson in his interesting little volume on "Weather Folk-lore," in which he has given the parallels in foreign countries. It must be remembered, however, that a great number of these plant-sayings originated very many years ago—long before the alteration in the style of the calendar—which in numerous instances will account for their apparent contradictory character. In noticing, too, these proverbs, account must be taken of the variation of climate in different countries, for what applies to one locality does not to another. Thus, for instance, according to a Basque proverb, "A wet May, a fruitful year," whereas it is said in Corsica, "A rainy May brings little barley and no wheat." Instances of this kind are of frequent occurrence, and of course are in many cases explained by the difference of climate. But in comparing all branches of folk-lore, similar variations, as we have already observed, are noticeable, to account for which is often a task full of difficulty.
Of the numerous other instances of weather-lore associated with agricultural operations, it is said in relation to rain:—
"Sow beans in the mud, and they'll grow like wood."
And a saying in East Anglia is to this effect:—
"Sow in the slop (or sop), heavy at top."
A further admonition advises the farmer to
"Sow wheat in dirt, and rye in dust;"
While, according to a piece of folk-lore current in East Anglia, "Wheat well-sown is half-grown." The Scotch have a proverb warning the farmer against premature sowing:—
"Nae hurry wi' your corns,Nae hurry wi' your harrows;Snaw lies ahint the dyke,Mair may come and fill the furrows."
And according to another old adage we are told how:—
"When the aspen leaves are no bigger than your nail,Is the time to look out for truff and peel."[7]
In short, it will be found that most of our counties have their items of weather-lore; many of which, whilst varying in some respect, are evidently modifications of one and the same belief. In many cases, too, it must be admitted that this species of weather-wisdom is not based altogether on idle fancy, but in accordance with recognised habits of plants under certain conditions of weather. Indeed, it has been pointed out that so sensitive are various flowers to any change in the temperature or the amount of light, that it has been noticed that there is as much as one hour's difference between the time when the same flower opens at Paris and Upsala. It is, too, a familiar fact to students of vegetable physiology that the leaves ofPorleria hygrometricafold down or rise up in accordance with the state of the atmosphere. In short, it was pointed out in theStandard, in illustration of the extreme sensitiveness of certain plants to surrounding influences, how theHaedysarumshave been well known ever since the days of Linnseus to suddenly begin to quiver without any apparent cause, and just as suddenly to stop. Force cannot initiate the movement, though cold will stop it, and heat will set in motion again the suspended animation of the leaves. If artificially kept from moving they will, when released, instantly begin their task anew and with redoubled energy. Similarly the leaves of theColocasia esculenta—the tara of the Sandwich Islands—will often shiver at irregular times of the day and night, and with such energy that little bells hung on the petals tinkle. And yet, curious to say, we are told that the keenest eye has not yet been able to detect any peculiarity in these plants to account for these strange motions. It has been suggested that they are due to changes in the weather of such a slight character that, "our nerves are incapable of appreciating them, or the mercury of recording their accompanying oscillations."
Footnotes:
1. Tylor's "Primitive Culture," 1873, i. 130.
2. See "English Folk-lore," pp. 42, 43.
3. "Primitive Manners and Customs," p. 74.
4. Dublin University Magazine, December 1873, p. 677.
5. See Swainson's "Weather-lore," p. 257.
6. See "Flower-lore," p. 226.
7. SeeNotes and Queries, 1st Ser. II. 511.
A host of curious proverbs have, from the earliest period, clustered round the vegetable world, most of which—gathered from experience and observation—embody an immense amount of truth, besides in numerous instances conveying an application of a moral nature. These proverbs, too, have a very wide range, and on this account are all the more interesting from the very fact of their referring to so many conditions of life. Thus, the familiar adage which tells us that "nobody is fond of fading flowers," has a far deeper signification, reminding us that everything associated with change and decay must always be a matter of regret. To take another trite proverb of the same kind, we are told how "truths and roses have thorns about them," which is absolutely true; and there is the well-known expression "to pipe in an ivy leaf," which signifies "to go and engage in some futile or idle pursuit" which cannot be productive of any good. The common proverb, "He hath sown his wild oats," needs no comment; and the inclination of evil to override good is embodied in various adages, such, as, "The weeds o'ergrow the corn," while the tenacity with which evil holds its ground is further expressed in such sayings as this—"The frost hurts not weeds." The poisonous effects, again, of evil is exemplified thus—"One ill-bred mars a whole pot of pottage," and the rapidity with which it spreads has, amongst other proverbs, been thus described, "Evil weeds grow apace." Speaking of weeds in their metaphorical sense, we may quote one further adage respecting them:—
"A weed that runs to seedIs a seven years' weed."
And the oft-quoted phrase, "It will be a nosegay to him as long as he lives," implies that disagreeable actions, instead of being lost sight of, only too frequently cling to a man in after years, or, as Ray says, "stink in his nostrils." The man who abandons some good enterprise for a worthless, or insignificant, undertaking is said to "cut down an oak and plant a thistle," of which there is a further version, "to cut down an oak and set up a strawberry." The truth of the next adage needs no comment—"Usurers live by the fall of heirs, as swine by the droppings of acorns."
Things that are slow but sure in their progress are the subject of a well-known Gloucestershire saying:—
"It is as long in coming as Cotswold barley."
"The corn in this cold country," writes Ray, "exposed to the winds, bleak and shelterless, is very backward at the first, but afterwards overtakes the forwardest in the country, if not in the barn, in the bushel, both for the quantity and goodness thereof." According to the Italians, "Every grain hath its bran," which corresponds with our saying, "Every bean hath its black," The meaning being that nothing is without certain imperfections. A person in extreme poverty is often described as being "as bare as the birch at Yule Even," and an ill-natured or evil-disposed person who tries to do harm, but cannot, is commonly said to:—
"Jump at it like a cock at a gooseberry."
Then the idea of durableness is thus expressed in a Wiltshire proverb:—
"An eldern stake and a blackthorn ether [hedge],Will make a hedge to last for ever"—
an elder stake being commonly said to last in the ground longer than an iron bar of the same size.[1]
A person who is always on the alert to make use of opportunities, and never allows a good thing to escape his grasp, is said to "have a ready mouth for a ripe cherry." The rich beauty, too, of the cherry, which causes it to be gathered, has had this moral application attached to it:—
"A woman and a cherry are painted for their own harm."
Speaking of cherries, it may be mentioned that the awkwardness of eating them on account of their stones, has given rise to sundry proverbs, as the following:—
"Eat peas with the king, and cherries with the beggar,"
and:—
"Those that eat cherries with great persons shall have their eyes squirted out with the stones."
A man who makes a great show without a corresponding practice is said to be like "fig-tree fuel, much smoke and little fire," and another adage says:—
"Peel a fig for your friend, and a peach for your enemy."
This proverb, however, is not quite clear when applied to this country. "To peel a fig, so far as we are concerned," writes Mr. Hazlitt[2], "can have no significance, except that we should not regard it as a friendly service; but, in fact, the proverb is merely a translation from the Spanish, and in that language and country the phrase carries a very full meaning, as no one would probably like to eat a fig without being sure that the fruit had not been tampered with. The whole saying is, however, rather unintelligible. 'Peeling a peach' would be treated anywhere as a dubious attention."
Of the many proverbs connected with thorns, there is the true one which tells us how,
"He that goes barefoot must not plant thorns,"
The meaning of which is self-evident, and the person who lives in a chronic state of uneasiness is said to, "sit on thorns." Then there is the oft-quoted adage:—
"While thy shoe is on thy foot, tread upon the thorns."
On the other hand, that no position in life is exempt from trouble of some kind is embodied in this proverb:—
"Wherever a man dwells he shall be sure to have a thorn bushnear his door,"
which Ray also explains in its literal sense, remarking that there "are few places in England where a man can dwell, but he shall have one near him." Then, again, thorns are commonly said to "make the greatest crackling," and "the thorn comes forth with its point forward."
Many a great man has wished himself poor and obscure in his hours of adversity, a sentiment contained in the following proverb:—
"The pine wishes herself a shrub when the axe is at her root."
A quaint phrase applied to those who expect events to take an unnatural turn is:—
"Would you have potatoes grow by the pot-side?"
Amongst some of the other numerous proverbs may be mentioned a few relating to the apple; one of these reminding us that,
"An apple, an egg, and a nut,You may eat after a slut."
Selfishness in giving is thus expressed:—
"To give an apple where there is an orchard."
And the idea of worthlessness is often referred to as when it is said that "There is small choice in rotten apples," with which may be compared another which warns us of the contagious effects of bad influence:—
"The rotten apple injures its neighbour."
The utter dissimilarity which often exists between two persons, or things, is jocularly enjoined in the familiar adage:—
"As like as an apple is to a lobster,"
And the folly of taking what one knows is paltry or bad has given rise to an instructive proverb:—
"Better give an apple than eat it."
The folly of expecting good results from the most unreasonable causes is the subject of the following old adage:—
"Plant the crab where you will, it will never bear pippins."
The crab tree has also been made the subject of several amusing rhymes, one of which is as follows:—
"The crab of the wood is sauce very good for the crab of thesea,But the wood of the crab is sauce for a drab that will not herhusband obey."
The coolness of the cucumber has long ago become proverbial for a person of a cold collected nature, "As cool as a cucumber," and the man who not only makes unreasonable requests, but equally expects them to be gratified, is said to "ask an elm-tree for pears." Then, again, foolish persons who have no power of observation, are likened to "a blind goose that knows not a fox from a fern bush."
The willow has long been a proverbial symbol of sadness, and on this account it was customary for those who were forsaken in love to wear a garland made of willow. Thus in "Othello," Desdemona (Act iv. sc. 3) anticipating her death, says:—
"My mother had a maid called Barbara:She was in love; and he she loved proved mad,And did forsake her: she had a song of willow;An old thing 'twas, but it expressed her fortune,And she died singing it: that song to-nightWill not go from my mind."
According to another adage:—
"Willows are weak, yet they bind other wood,"
The significance of which is clear. Then, again, there is the not very complimentary proverbial saying, of which there are several versions:—
"A spaniel, a woman, and a walnut-tree,The more they're beaten, the better they be."
Another variation, given by Moor in his "Suffolk Words" (p. 465), is this:—
"Three things by beating better prove:A nut, an ass, a woman;The cudgel from their back remove,And they'll be good for no man."
A curious phrase current in Devonshire for a young lady who jilts a man is, "She has given him turnips;" and an expressive one for those persons who in spite of every kindness are the very reverse themselves is this:—
"Though you stroke the nettle ever so kindly, yet it will sting you;"
With which may be compared a similar proverb equally suggestive:—
"He that handles a nettle tenderly is soonest stung."
The ultimate effects of perseverance, coupled with time, is thus shown:—
"With time and patience the leaf of the mulberry treebecomes satin."
A phrase current, according to Ray, in Gloucestershire for those "who always have a sad, severe, and terrific countenance," is, "He looks as if he lived on Tewkesbury mustard"—this town having been long noted for its "mustard-balls made there, and sent to other parts." It may be remembered that in "2 Henry IV." (Act ii. sc. 4) Falstaff speaks of "wit as thick as Tewkesbury mustard." Then there is the familiar adage applied to the man who lacks steady application, "A rolling stone gathers no moss," with which may be compared another, "Seldom mosseth the marble-stone that men [tread] oft upon."
Among the good old proverbs associated with flax may be mentioned the following, which enjoins the necessity of faith in our actions:—
"Get thy spindle and thy distaff ready, and God will send the flax."
A popular phrase speaks of "An owl in an ivy-bush," which perhaps was originally meant to denote the union of wisdom with conviviality, equivalent to "Be merry and wise." Formerly an ivy-bush was a common tavern sign, and gave rise to the familiar proverb, "Good wine needs no bush," this plant having been selected probably from having been sacred to Bacchus.
According to an old proverb respecting the camomile, we are told that "the more it is trodden the more it will spread," an allusion to which is made by Falstaff in "I Henry IV." (Act ii. sc. 4):—
"For though the camomile, the more it is trodden on, the faster it grows; yet youth, the more it is wasted, the sooner it wears."
There are many proverbs associated with the oak. Referring to its growth, we are told that "The willow will buy a horse before the oak will pay for a saddle," the allusion being, of course, to the different rates at which trees grow. That occasionally some trifling event may have the most momentous issues is thus exemplified:—
"The smallest axe may fell the largest oak;"
Although, on the other hand, it is said that:—
"An oak is not felled at one chop."
A further variation of the same idea tells us how:—
"Little strokes fell great oaks,"
In connection with which may be quoted the words of Ovid to the same effect:—
"Quid magis est durum saxo? Quid mollius unda?Dura taneu molli saxa cavantur aqua?"