To turn from old to modern mythology, I may notice that water entered into the old sports of St. Distaff’s Day, or the morrow after Twelfth Day. It is thus alluded to by one whose “mind was jocund, but his life was chaste,”—the lyric Parson of Dean Priors:—
“Partly work and partly play
Ye must, on St. Distaff’s Day.
From the plough soon free your team,
Then come home and fother them.
If the maids a-spinning go,
Burn the flax, and fire the tow,
Scorch their plackets, but beware
That ye singe no maiden-hair.
Bring in pails of water then,