makes it difficult to draw the line. Be that as it may, it would hardly be an exaggeration to say that some rural communities in New England are simply honeycombed with it. Indeed, almost every insignificant happening is a sign of something or other.
One result of my own observation in this field of research is, that women, if not by nature more superstitious than men, hold to these old beliefs much more tenaciously than men. In the country, it is the woman who is ready to quarrel with you, if, in some unguarded moment, you should venture to doubt the potency of her manifold signs. In the city, it is still the woman who presents her husband with some charm or other to be worn on his watch-chain, as a safeguard against disease, inconstancy, late hours, or other uncounted happenings of life, believing, as she does, more or less implicitly, in its traditional efficacy. In all that relates to marriage, too, women are usually most careful how they disregard any of the accepted dicta on a subject of so much concern to their future happiness, as will appear later on.
Fifty years ago the poet Whittier declared that “There is scarcely a superstition of the past three centuries which has not, at this very time, more or less hold upon individual minds among us.” The broad declaration demands less qualification to-day than is generally supposed.
Most of the examples collected in this volume have come under my own observation; some have been contributed by friends, many by the newspapers. If their number should prove a surprise to anybody, I can only say that mine has fully equalled their own. But let us, at least, be honest about it. We can conceal nothing from ourselves. Silence may be golden, but it makes no converts.
II
THE FOLK-LORE OF
CHILDHOOD
“Why this is the best fooling when all is done.”—Twelfth Night.
The trite saying that “children and fools are soothsayers” goes straight to the heart of those familiar superstitions with which the folk-lore of childhood abounds. We, the children of a larger growth, often call to mind with what avidity we listened in our childhood’s days to the nursery tales of giants, dwarfs, ghosts, fairies, and the like creations of pure fancy. We still remember how instantly all the emotions of our childish nature were excited by the recital of these marvels—told us, too, with such an air of truth, that never for a moment did we doubt them. Oh, how we hated Blue Beard, and how we adored Jack the Giant-Killer! Are we not treated, just as soon as we are out of the cradle, as if superstition was the first law of nature? What is the wonder, then, that the effects of these early impressions are not easily got rid of, or the impressions themselves soon, if ever, forgotten? “Brownie” is put into the arms of toddling infants before they can articulate two words plainly. Just as soon as the child is able to prattle a little, it is taught the familiar nursery rhyme of
“Bye, bye, Baby Bunting,
Papa’s gone a-hunting,”
drawn from ancient folk-lore, with which the rabbit and hare are so intimately associated. After the innocent face rhymes, found with little variation, in no less than four different languages, giving names to each of the chubby little features,—
“Eyes winker, Tom Tinker,” etc.
come the well-known button rhymes, like this:
“Rich man, poor man, beggar man, thief,
Doctor, lawyer, merchant, chief;”
or this one, told centuries ago to children across the water:—
“A tinker, a tailor,
A soldier or sailor,
A rich man, a poor man,
A priest or a parson,
A ploughman or a thief.”
The virgin soil being thus artfully prepared to receive superstition, the boy or girl goes forth among playmates similarly equipped, with them to practice various forms of conjuration in their innocent sports, without in the least knowing what they are doing. Here are a few of them:—
Making a cross upon the ground before your opponent, at the same time muttering “criss-cross,” when playing at marbles, to make him miss his shot, as I have often seen done in my schoolboy days. This is merely a relic of that superstition attached to making the sign of the cross, as a charm against the power of evil spirits.
The innocent sounding words “criss-cross” we believe originally to have been Christ’s Cross.
Children of both sexes count apple seeds by means of the pretty jingling rhymes, so like to the German flower oracle, often employed by children of a larger growth. It has been set to music.
“One I love,
Two I love.
Three I love, I say,
Four I love with all my heart,
Five I cast away;
Six he loves,
Seven she loves,
Eight both love;
Nine he comes,
Ten he tarries,
Eleven he courts,
Twelve he marries.”
Holding the pretty field buttercup under another’s chin, in order to see if he or she loves butter, is a good form of divination. So is the practice of blowing off the fluffy dandelion top, after the flower has gone to seed, to determine the hour, as that flower always opens at about five in the morning, and shuts at about eight in the evening, thus making it stand in the room of a clock for shepherds. This plant has also been called the rustic oracle. To find the time of day, as many puffs as it takes to blow away the downy seed balls gives the answer. The same method of divination is employed by children to find out if their mothers want them; or to waft a message to some loved one; or to know if such or such a person is thinking of them; and whether he or she lives north, east, south, or west.
To the same general purport is the invocation:
“Rain, rain, go away,
Come again another day.”
We understand that the equally familiar form,—
“Snail, snail, put out your horn,”
is repeated in China as well as in this country, though sometimes altered to
“Snail, snail, come out of your hole,
Or else I’ll beat you black as a coal.”
One equally familiar form of childish invocation appears in the pretty little lady-bird rhyme, so often repeated by the young:—
“Lady-bird, lady-bird,
Fly
