Maidens, however, may have a vision of their future lord and master(?) without the necessity of almost dislocating their joints. For I find at the present time it is only needful, on the day of the eve of St. Agnes, to fast from the time of rising, only eating a little stale bread and drinking parsley tea. On retiring to rest, remake your bed, putting thereon clean sheets and pillow-cases, remembering to repeat as you lay on each cover the following:—
St. Agnes, I pray unto thee,
I, a maid, would married be,
So thou my husband show to me.
Retire to rest, sleeping by yourself, and you will see the man you will marry in a dream. Should you awake, my advice is—having seen the future husband, get up and have a good supper; parsley tea and stale bread for a day is not satisfying. There are other forms of the same charm, differing only in minor details.
The making of the dumb-cake, however, differs only in one particular throughout the riding. Some hold that those engaged in its preparation must stand on something upon which they have never stood before, no two persons standing on a similar thing, e.g. a box-lid, a newspaper, &c. Others altogether ignore this canon in the ritual. Therefore I must leave my fair readers to decide which formula they will adopt, in case they decide to make a dumb-cake for themselves. As to the actual preparation, it must be begun after eleven o’clock p.m. on the eve of St. Agnes, and either three, five, or seven maidens may take part. In the making of a dumb-cake, each must take a handful of flour and lay it on a sheet of clean paper (this must be pretty large), bearing in mind that from the moment the first hand is dipped in the flour, not a word must be uttered whilst the cake-makers remain in that room, or the spell will be broken.
Having each laid a handful of flour on the sheet of paper, all add a small pinch of salt, water being also added, all taking part in working the same into dough, every one kneading and assisting in rolling the same into a thin cake, sufficiently large for each to mark her initials in fairly large letters thereon. All must now lend a hand in lifting it on to a tin, and in carrying it to the fire, in front of which it must be laid. Having seated themselves as far from the fire as possible, each will in turn rise, cross the room, and turn the cake round once—not over, as it must be left the inscribed side uppermost. All this having been accomplished before twelve strikes, remain quietly seated; for, a few minutes after midnight, the husband of the maiden who is to be married first will appear and touch her initials, often leaving his fingermark upon the same. So there can be no doubt about it.
Should you have no opportunity of joining others in the preparation of a dumb-cake, you may, if so inclined, on the Friday evening following that of St. Agnes (some say any Friday but Good Friday), have a vision of your future husband by a strict observance of the following:—
Make a flat dough cake about the size of a crown piece; on this prick the initials of the one you secretly love. Next procure three small keys, all different, and make an impression of each on the underside of the cake. On retiring to rest, thread the three keys on the garter of your left leg, wrapping the same about the little cake; stitch this ball to the inside of your nightdress so that it will rest in the centre of your bosom, and you will then dream, either of the man you love, or some other swain. If not of the one you love, then your affections for the present are misplaced.
The days in Holy Week are familiarly known as Collop Monday, Pancake Tuesday, Frutas or Fritters Wednesday, Bloody Thorsday,