go In almost every district a party of young men from house to house singing a rhyme in the Manx language, which translated is as follows: "Again we assemble, a merry New Year To wish to each one of the family here, Whether man, woman, or girl, or boy, That long life and happiness all may enjoy. May they of potatoes and herrings have plenty, With butter and cheese and each other dainty, And may their sleep never, by night or by day, Disturbed be by even the tooth of a flea, Until at the Quaaltagh again we appear, To wish you, as now, all a happy New Year." When these lines are repeated at the door, the party are invited into the house and partake of refreshments. The one who enters first is called the "Quaaltagh," or first-foot, and, as in the northern parts of England, it is essential for good fortune that he should be dark-complexioned. The actors do not assume a fantastic garb like the mummers of England or the guiscards of Scotland, nor are they accompanied by minstrels. As in Banffshire, the housewives in many of the upland cottages, before retiring to bed, spread the ashes smoothly on the hearth, and if in the morning the print of a foot can be detected with the toe pointing towards the door, they believe there will be a death in the family during the year; but if the toe points in a contrary direction, the family will not fail to have an increase. At St. Albans "Pop Ladies" are cried and sold in the streets, and in parts of Wales children go round showing a "calening" and wishing good luck in return for pence or cake. Twelfth Night, or Old Christmas Day, was formerly the appointed time for the observance of many old customs which are now defunct. No longer are kings and queens of rural festivals elected by the lot of the bean and the pea hidden in a cake. St. Distaff's Day is no more. We feared that the sounds of rustic revelry had died away when the orchards were wassailed and the ancient rhyme chanted "Here's to thee, old apple-tree, Whence thou may'st bud, and whence thou may'st blow, Hats full! caps full! And my pockets full too! Huzza!" But we are relieved to find that the applewassail has not quite passed away. Three years ago the custom prevailed at Duncton, near Petworth, on the South Downs, and on Old Christmas Eve the voices of the younger villagers sang their lays to the apple-trees, the old Mistletoe Bough" being one of their favourite ditties. The wassail is sup posed to help the growth and abundance of apples for cider-making, and "the oldest inhabitant" can recollect that the custom has been kept up for the last fifty years. In "Bygone Days in Devonshire and Cornwall," published in 1874, the authoress, Mrs. Whitcombe, states that the above rhyme is still repeated by the farmer's family and friends when gathered round the orchard trees, who sprinkle cider over the roots and hang cake on the branches. The custom of firing guns under appletrees is not entirely defunct in Devonshire. In 1889 the custom prevailed at Cullompton. When the parson was popular, the line "old parson's breeches full," was added to the rhyme quoted above. In Surrey the boys sing the following rhyme under the apple-trees in the Surrey orchards:"Here stands a good apple-tree, Stand fast at root, We thought, too, that Plough Monday was dead, and that the ploughmen no longer dragged their ploughs from village to village, dancing while "Bess" rattled her moneybox. The money was in pre-Reformation times devoted to the maintenance of the ploughmen's light, which burned before the altar of the Ploughmen's Guild in the chantry of the church. But we are glad to find that Plough Monday is still observed in Cambridgeshire, where bands of young men, profusely ornamented with scarves and ribbons, drag wooden ploughs of a primitive description along the streets. But "Bess," a man dressed as a woman, no longer forms part of this quaint procession. The custom also prevails in Huntingdonshire. At Great Gransden a party of men decked with ribbons go round the village with a decorated plough, repeating in a shrill monotone "Remember us poor ploughboys, A ploughing we must go ; A ploughing we must go." A few years ago the men used to plough the lawn, or the scrapers and door-steps, if no money was given. up The Plough Monday play, one of the few remaining specimens of English folk-drama, still survives. It resembles in some points the Christmas and Easter plays, but has several distinguishing features. In the Plough In Monday play there is no St. George, and the principal feature is the sword - dance. Lincolnshire the actors who drag the plough along are called plough-bullocks; in Yorks they are known as plough-stotts. The play, as performed recently at Wyverton Hall, Nottinghamshire, is printed in "A Cavalier Stronghold," by Mrs. Musters. "Hopper Joe" carries a basket, as if he were going to sow seeds, in which the spectators place money. The sergeant arrays himself in some old uniform, and the young lady always wears a veil; Beelzebub has a blackened face, and either a besom of straw or a club with a bladder fastened at the end. The chief feature of the play is the raising to life of the old woman, whom Beelzebub has knocked down, by the doctor, who is always dressed in the smartest modern clothes, with a riding-whip and a top-hat. Sometimes they wear ribbons and rosettes and feathers stuck in their hats, and the brass ornaments of their horses' harness hanging down in front. Sometimes they have figures of small horses and ploughs in red and black fastened on their dress. of the mummers in the Lincolnshire Plough Monday procession usually wears a fox's skin in the form of a hood, and "Bessy" a bullock's tail under her gown, which he holds in his hand when dancing. One Plough Monday is also observed in the |