“Whoever turns three somersaults the first time he hears thunder will be free from pains in the back during the twelvemonth.” Of this prescription—which reads as if it had originated with Timothy, in “Japhet in Search of a Father,” when he practised as a mountebank—it may be said that it is most unlikely that any person who is capable of putting it in practice should suffer with such pains.
To be free from headache rub the forehead with a piece of iron or stone. This may be a presage of the electric cure or of that by “metallic tractors.”
It is unfortunate in all Catholic countries to meet with a priest or nun, especially when he or she is the first person encountered in the morning. In Roumania this is limited to the Greek popa. But to be first met by a gypsy on going forth is a very fortunate omen indeed. According to a widely-spread and ancient belief it is also very lucky to meet with any woman of easy virtue—the easier the better. This is doubtless derived from the ancient worship of Venus, and the belief that any thing or person connected with celibacy and chastity, such as a nun, is unlucky. It would appear from this that the Roumanians, or their gypsy oracles, have formed an opinion that their own popas are strictly abstinent as regards love, while Protestant priests marry and are accordingly productive. Why the Catholic clergy are included with the latter is not at all clear. It is lucky also to meet a gypsy at any time, and doubtless this belief has been well encouraged by the Romany.
“It’s kushti bak to wellán a Rom,
When tute’s a pirryin pré the drom.”
“When you are going along the street
It’s lucky a gypsy man to meet.”
Likewise, it is lucky to meet with a woman carrying a jug full of water, &c., but unlucky if it be empty. So in the New Testament the virgins whose lamps were full of oil received great honour. The lamp was an ancient symbol of life; hence it is very often found covered with aphrodisiac symbols or made in Phallic forms. It is barely possible that common old popular simile of “Not by a jug-full”—meaning “not by a great deal”—is derived from this association of a full vessel with abundance.
It is a Roumanian gypsy custom to do homage to the Wodna zena, or “Water-woman” (Hungarian gypsy, Nivashi), by spilling a few drops of water on the ground after filling a jug, and it is regarded as an insult to offer drink without observing this ceremony. A Roumanian will never draw water against the current (also as in the Hungarian gypsy charms), as it would provoke the water-spirit. If water is drawn in the night-time, whoever does so must blow three times over the brimming jug, and pour a few drops on the coals.
The mythology of the Roumanians agrees with that of the gypsies. It is sylvan, and Indian. In deep pools of water lurks the dreadful balaur or Wodna muz—i.e., the Waterman (Muz is both gypsy and Slavonian)—who lies in wait for victims. In every forest lives the mama padura, or weshni dye—“the forest mother”—who is believed to be benevolent to human beings, especially towards children who have lost their way in the wood. But the Panusch is an amorous spirit who, like the wanton satyrs of old, haunts the silent woodland shades, and lies in wait for helpless maids. “Surely,” observes Mrs. Gerard, “this is a corruption of ‘great Pan,’ who is not dead after all, but merely banished to the land beyond the forest.” What a find this would have been for Heine when writing “The Gods in Exile”!