In early days when men were simple-minded and pious, two lovely children were often seen hovering over the Aargau grain fields when the ears were just beginning to form. A boy and a girl, with golden curls waving over plump white shoulders, and gleaming white garments flowing down to the tiny feet which barely touched the swaying grain, this little pair flitted on from field to field, with dimpled hands outstretched as if in blessing.
Wherever they passed a golden gleam rested like a halo upon the land, where they were generally known as the Grain Angels, and people knew that a fine harvest was assured. These radiant little cherubs were the spirits of two little children, who, straying into a harvest field, lost their way and died there like the fabled Babes in the Woods.
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The people of Brugg once agreed to assemble on the next rainy day, and sallying forth in a body, plant an extensive oak forest near their quaint little city. As soon as the sky darkened, therefore, and the rain began to fall, they all went out, thrust sharp sticks into the damp ground, dropped acorns into the holes thus made, and pushing the dirt down with their feet, pressed it down hard. As men, women, and children took part in this sowing-bee, twelve acres were soon planted, and when the wet workers came back to town, the magistrates rewarded them by giving each a small wheaten roll.
The acorns thus consigned to the soil failed to grow because planted too deep, so the expedition was repeated on the following year, the seed being now laid in furrows instead of separate holes. This system of planting proving equally unsuccessful, the Brugg magistrates, on the third year, bade the inhabitants go forth into a neighbouring forest, dig up promising young trees, and plant them carefully on the spot where the future forest was to stand.
This third attempt, made in 1532, was turned into a sort of picnic by the merry children, who, singing in chorus, carried the young oaks to the appointed place, where each carefully planted the chosen tree. When they came home, the magistrates again gave each child a roll, and invited the older people to a grand public banquet where all drank to the success of the young oaks.
This time the trees throve apace, and on every anniversary of this famous oak-planting, the little ones march in gay procession all around the woods and come home brandishing green branches, to prove to their parents that the forest is doing well. This quaint procession of wands, or Ruthenzug, has been kept up for centuries, and we are told the Brugg school-children enjoy it to-day as much as any of their ancestors.
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The mineral springs at Baden were once under the protection of three wise women, who, although no one knew who they were or whence they came, were generally supposed to have inhabited the old castle of Stein.
Although usually on duty near the springs, these wise dames avoided being seen by the bathers, but if the water were defiled in any way, or if any of the rules were disregarded, they suddenly and mysteriously checked the flow of the healing waters, and did not allow another drop to run until the impurities were removed, or the wrong-doing ceased.