Part 11

In some country districts the belief still holds that if a live frog can be passed through a sick cow the animal will get well, but the frog must be alive and kicking, or the charm will not work.

Salt was formerly the first thing taken into a new house, in the belief that the occupants would never want for bread in that house.

“Happy is the corpse that the rain rains on.” This is a sort of corollary to the belief, that it is a fortunate sign if the sun shines on a newly wedded couple.

The long established custom of laying the head of the dead to the east is probably a survival of the ancient sun-worship. It is traced back to the Phœnicians. In Shakespeare’s “Cymbeline” we find this reference to it:--

“We must lay his head to the east: My father hath reason for’t.”

We are reminded that ropes are coiled, cranks turned, and eggs beaten with the sun. One writer upon Folk-lore remarks that passing the bottle at table from right to left, instead of being merely proper form, really comes from this ancient superstition.

Telling the bees of a death in the family was formerly a quite general practice, if indeed it has entirely died out. I know that it has been practised in New England within my own recollection. It was the belief that a failure to so inform the bees would lead to their dwindling away and dying, according to some interpreters, or to their flying away, according to others. The manner of proceeding was to knock with the house-key three times against the hives, at the same time telling the noisy inmates that their master or mistress, as the case might be, was dead. One case is reported where an old man actually sung a psalm in front of some hives. In New England the hives were sometimes draped in black. The semi-sacred character with which antiquity invested this wonderful little insect sufficiently accounts for the practice. Mr. Whittier has some verses about it in “Home Ballads.” Beating upon a pot or kettle when bees are swarming comes from Virgil’s injunction, in the like case, to raise tinkling sounds.

Laying a plate for a dead person was in pursuance of the belief that, if it were omitted, one death in the family would speedily be followed by another.

The Passing Bell was originally instituted to drive away evil spirits, as well as to bespeak the prayers of all good Christians for a soul just leaving the body. Sitting up with a dead body originated in a like purpose. The former custom is dimly reflected in the tolling of the bell, the number of strokes indicating the age of the deceased.

It is considered lucky to put on a garment wrong side out. I knew of a sea-captain who, on rising late in the morning of the day he was to sail, in his hurry, put on his drawers wrong side out. He said to his wife, with a laugh, that he would wear them so for luck. The ship in which he sailed was lost, with all on board, on the very same night; and, as it turned out, the captain’s mistake in putting on his clothes proved the means of identifying his mutilated remains when they were found on the beach the next morning.

The trial to discover a witch, made use of by the circle of hysterical young girls in the time of the lamentable witchcraft terror, was to take a sieve and a pair of scissors or shears, stick the points of the shears in the wood of the sieve, and let two of them hold it balanced upright on the tips of their two fingers; then to ask St. Peter and St. Paul if a certain person, naming the one suspected, was a witch. If the right one was hit upon, the sieve would suddenly turn round.

As usual, Butler has something to say of this charm:--

“Th’ oracle of the sieve and shears That turns as certain as the spheres.”

Another similar charm is that of the Bible and key. I do not learn of its being practised of late, though it has been put to the trial since I can remember, to discover a thief. It is done in this way. The key is placed upon a certain chapter in the Bible, after which the sacred book is shut and tightly fastened. Both are then hung to a nail. The name of the suspected person is then repeated three times by some one present, while another recites:--

“If it turns to thee, thou art the thief.”

Should the key have turned, the guilt is, of course, fixed upon the real criminal.

Perhaps the manner of proceeding in such cases will be made clearer by the following relation of an actual test and its results, which took place in England some thirty years ago, and was given to the world as a curious instance of the degree of superstition then still existing in many parts of Great Britain. The account goes on to say that: “At the Cricklade Petty Sessions, in Wiltshire, a matron named Eliza Glass made a statement which was briefly as follows: Her father had lost or missed the sum of four pounds sterling, and suspicion, apparently unfounded, fell upon herself and her husband. The theory was formed that she had stolen a key, and thus her husband had obtained access to the money. It was determined to test the matter by the ‘Bible and key.’ The key was placed in the Bible on a particular place in Solomon’s Song, the book closed and tied, and suspended by a string passed through the handle of the key, which protruded. One of the persons then thought of the suspected individual, the edge of the book turned toward the tester, and Mrs. Glass was adjudged guilty, or as she expressed it, ‘upset.’ All this was in her absence. But she knew that she was innocent, and when informed of her condemnation adopted tactics which others, more astute than she, had used before her; she determined to impeach the credibility of the witness. Taking a New Testament she put the key on the words ‘Blessed are the pure in heart,’ and suspending the book as before, she was acquitted. Troubled by the apparent inconsistency of the Old and the New Testaments, she inquired of the magistrates what was to be done. They dismissed her with the remark that the bench could not interfere, and that, if innocent, she ought to be satisfied with the approval of a good conscience.”

Thrusting a knife between the leaves of a Bible to obtain a name for a child has not gone out of use even yet.

The Wassail, or Loving Cup, is nothing but a relic of superstition, like drinking of healths, which custom, though no longer an indispensable ceremonial on state occasions, as it has been within the century, lives yet in the spirit whenever two friends happen to pledge each other in a social glass, silently or otherwise. The familiar “Here’s to you!” is neither more nor less than an invocation to good luck.

Throwing an old shoe is perhaps most intimately associated, in the popular mind, with marriage ceremonies; but it is also found doing duty in other matters concerning personal advantage or welfare,--as when, for instance, a person was going out to transact business, it was considered lucky to throw an old shoe after him. The same thing was done when servants were seeking or entering upon situations. So far, the meaning of the act is simple enough, the controlling idea being to propitiate success.

But if we should divest an old shoe of its assumed mystical property, in the name of that superior wisdom which our cultured class is supposed to possess, why would it not be as well, or even better, to throw a new pair after the candidate for good fortune? But no, it must be an old shoe. And therein lies the whole philosophy of the matter. Unless we shall conform to the strict letter of this antiquated custom, there will be no luck about the house.

In Ben Jonson’s “Masque of Gypsies,” we find this joyous couplet:--

“Hurle after an old shoe, I’ll be merry whate’er I do.”

Much to the same purport is Tennyson’s:--

“And wheresoe’er thou move, good luck Shall throw her old shoe after.”

Apropos of beliefs affecting tradespeople of to-day, a newspaper clipping notes the following curious custom prevailing among the street pedlers and small storekeepers of New York, that has its origin with the Russian Jews. In Baxter Street the clothing men and in Division Street the milliners insist that a sale must be made before nine o’clock on Monday morning. No matter what the price and regardless of profit or loss, some piece of goods must be turned into coin by that hour; otherwise the week will prove an unlucky one.

On the other hand, there is a firm belief in some parts of New England that if you pay a bill on Monday, you will pay out money all the rest of the week. Hence, a very natural prejudice has arisen against paying a bill on that day.

Shipmasters are admittedly very superstitious folk. I once knew of a ship being named for a certain well-known cotton mill, because the said mill had always proved a lucky investment to its owners. Another instance came to my knowledge where a master, himself part owner, consulted a clairvoyant about naming his new ship. When the applicant timidly suggested the name of Pocahontas, it was promptly rejected with the remark: “She was nothing but an old Indian woman. What do you want to name your vessel after her for? Call her the Eagle Wing.” And Eagle Wing it was.