And Barnebe Googe, in his translation of Naogeorgus, remarks:—

Then followeth Saint Stephen's day, whereon doth every man
His horses iaunt and course abrode, as swiftly as he can;
Untill they doe extreemely sweate, and than they let them blood,
For this being done upon this day, they say doth do them good,
And keepes them from all maladies and secknesse through the yeare,
As if that Steuen any time tooke charge of horses heare.

Aubrey, also, in his Remains of Gentilisme, says: "On St. Stephen's day the farrier came constantly, and blouded all our cart horses."

It was occasionally the day of great festivity, even though it came so very closely after Christmas day; and Mr. J.G. Nichols, in Notes and Queries (2 ser. viii. 484), quotes a letter, dated 2nd January 1614, in confirmation. It is from an alderman of Leicester to his brother in Wood Street, Cheapside. "Yow wryte how yow reacayved my lettar on St. Steven's day, and that, I thanke yow, yow esteemed yt as welcoom as the 18 trumpytors; wt in so doing, I must and will esteme yowres, God willing, more wellcoom then trumpets and all the musicke we have had since Christmas, and yet we have had prety store bothe of owre owne and othar, evar since Christmas. And the same day we were busy wt hollding up hands and spoones to yow, out of porredge and pyes, in the remembraunce of yowre greate lyberality of frute and spice, which God send yow long lyffe to contynew, for of that day we have not myssed anny St. Steven this 47 yeare to have as many gas (guests) as my howse will holld, I thank God for yt."

In Southey's Common Place Book it is noted that the three Vicars of Bampton, Oxon., give beef and beer on the morning of St. Stephen's day to those who choose to partake of it. This is called St. Stephen's breakfast. The same book also mentions a singular custom in Wales, that on this day everybody is privileged to whip another person's legs with holly, which is often reciprocated till the blood streams down; and this is corroborated in Mason's Tales and Traditions of Tenby, where it is mentioned as being practised in that town.

We have heard of hunting the wren in the Isle of Man; the same custom obtains in the south of Ireland, only it takes place on St. Stephen's day. There is a tradition which is supposed to account for this animosity against this pretty and harmless little bird. In one of the many Irish rebellions a night march was made by a body of rebels on a party of royalists, and when, about dawn of day, they neared the sleeping out-posts, a slumbering drummer was aroused by a tapping on his drum; and, giving the alarm, the rebels were repulsed. The tapping was caused by a wren pecking at the crumbs left on the drum-head after the drummer's last meal. Henceforward a grudge was nursed against the wren, which has existed until now.

The "wren boys" go round, calling at houses, either having a dead wren in a box, or hung on a holly bush, and they sing a song:—

The Wran, the Wran, the king of all birds,
On St. Stephen's day she's cotched in the furze;
Although she's but wee, her family's great,
So come down, Lan'leddy, and gie us a trate.
Then up wi' the kettle, an' down wi' the pan,
An' let us ha' money to bury the Wran.

Croker, in his Researches in the South of Ireland (p. 233), gives us more of this song:—

The Wren, the Wren, the King of all birds,
St. Stephen's day was caught in the furze;
Although he is little, his family's great,
I pray you, good landlady, give us a treat.
My box would speak if it had but a tongue,
And two or three shillings would do it no wrong;
Sing holly, sing ivy—sing ivy, sing holly,
A drop just to drink, it would drown melancholy.
And, if you draw it of the best,
I hope in Heaven your soul may rest;
But, if you draw it of the small,
It won't agree with the Wren boys at all, etc. etc.