Part 3 (2/2)
On Midsummer Eve three girls are required to make a dumb cake. Two must make it, two bake it, two break it, and the third put a piece under each of their pillows. Strict silence must be preserved. The following are the directions given how to proceed: The two must go to the larder and jointly get the various ingredients. First they get a bowl, each holding it and wash and dry it together. Then each gets a spoonful of flour, a spoonful of water and a little salt. When making the cake they must stand on something they have never stood on before. They must mix it together and roll it. Then they draw a line across the middle of the cake and each girl cuts her initials each on opposite sides of the line.
Then both put it into the oven and bake it. The two take it out of the oven, and break it across the line and the two pieces are given to the third girl who places a piece under each pillow and they will dream of their future.
Not a word must be spoken and the two girls after giving the pieces to the third girl have to walk backwards to bed and get into bed backwards.
One word or exclamation by either of the three girls will break the charm.
Should a gale arise and the wind appear to be rustling in the room, during the baking or latter part of the preparation, if they look over their left shoulder they will see their future husbands.
In some districts the pieces of cake are eaten in bed and not put under their pillows but nothing must be drank before breakfast next morning.
Another variation is that two only make the cake and go through the same form as the preceding, only they divide it themselves, then each eats her portion and goes to bed backwards as in the first case and nothing must be drank or a word spoken.
An uncooked dried salt fish eaten before going to bed in silence and walking backwards and getting into bed the same way, causes ones future husband to appear in a dream with a gla.s.s of water in his hand if a teetotaller, or a gla.s.s of beer if he is not one. Nothing must be drank before breakfast.
An old woman said she had tried it over 40 years ago and her husband brought her a gla.s.s of beer and he was not an abstainer but rather the reverse.
SEPTEMBER.
Right glad to meet the evening's dewy veil And see the light fade into glooms around. _Clare._
The Harvest Home Suppers are now almost a thing of the past. I went to one about eight years ago and suppose it will be the last. It is held when the last load of corn is taken home. This load used to be decorated with boughs and flowers and the youngest boy employed used to ride on it singing:--
Harvest Home! Harvest Home; Two plum puddings are better than one, We've plowed, we've sowed, We've reaped, we've mowed, We've got our harvest home.
They also used to shout Largess! Largess! but seldom got anything given them. It was merely an old custom.
In the evening the supper was held, and after supper songs were sung.
The oldest labourer used to propose the health of the Master and Mistress and all would sing:--
HARVEST HOME.
Here's a health unto our Master, the giver of the feast, Not only to our Master, but to our Mistress; We wish all things may prosper whate'er he take in hand, For we are all his servants, and all at his command.
Drink, boys drink, and see you do not spill, For if you do you shall drink two, it is our Master's will.
I've been to France, I've been to Dover, I've been to Harvest Home all the world over, over, and over, Drink up your liquor and turn the bowl over.
Another:--
Here's health unto our Master the founder of the feast, G.o.d bless his endeavours and give him increase, And send him good crops that we may meet another year, Here's our Master's good health boys come drink off your beer.
Some of the old songs used to be regularly sung. ”The Poacher” was always a great favourite and the chorus, ”For its my delight on a starry night” used to be given with great force and feeling. I wish I could remember the old songs which are now forgotten.
<script>