An’ Lang Friday ’at’s nivver deean,
Seea lig i’ bed whahl Seterdaay neean.
The usual menu for the week is still pretty much as it was. Collops of bacon and fried eggs on Monday. Pancakes served with either treacle or lemon-juice and sugar on Tuesday. Frutas, or fritters, made from a light kind of tea-cake paste, only much richer in fruit and fried either in lard or butter, on Wednesday; and, with many of humble degree, black puddings on Thursday. Whilst on Friday, fast is kept on any frutas which may have been spared from Wednesday’s feast, and there always is a very considerable helping left over.
Paste-egg or Troll-egg[5] Day, is now celebrated on Easter Monday, but in days past Easter Day and Paste-egg Day were one. At the present time the last five Sundays of Lent and Easter Day are still called Tid, Mid, Miseray, Carlin’, and Paum, an’ Paste-egg Day. There is some uncertainty as to what Tid and Mid mean, but there can be no doubt that Miseray is a corruption of Miserere, the commencement of one of the psalms ordered to be read during Lent. The whole of the names, however, take us back to mediaeval times, and though some are inclined to think that Tid means ‘Te Deum’ and Mid ‘Mid Lent,’ it seems to me careful research will in time give a more plausible solution. Carling Sunday is still observed in many places, grey peas fried with bacon or in butter being a well-known dish on that day, many even carrying a goodly store about in paper bags. At Great Ayton, and in many parts of Cleveland, Carling Sunday is still fully observed. The same is equally true of Palm Sunday, or, as it is called, ‘Paum Sunda,’ catkins, or lambs’ tails, as they are universally designated, being carried in the hand, thrust in the buttonhole, or worn in the hat, whilst many a mantelpiece and ornament is often tastefully decorated with the same. From noon on Easter Day to noon the following day, an old custom which is now only kept up in remote villages, but which was quite general throughout the riding when I was a lad, was that of one or more young fellows seizing a female and forcibly pulling off her shoe, sometimes both, laces being no protection. These were held in bondage until a fine was paid. This very rough proceeding was formerly known as ’buckle-snatching,’ the old name for the theft during the days when buckles were worn. However, if the lads had their good time from the Sunday to Monday’s noon, the lasses did not fail to retaliate from that time until noon on Tuesday. From any hidden corner or doorway, out they rushed, and rarely failed to snatch either a hat, whip, stick, handkerchief, or something, they were not particular what, or to scratching either, generally managing to recuperate themselves for any losses of the day previous. On Easter Monday the bairns hie themselves to some field and roll or troll their hard-boiled eggs dyed in many colours; this lasts until the egg is broken, when the youngsters feed upon the contents. Many of the lads, however, have a much speedier method of either adding to their store of food or losing their egg. They jaup or jarp them together, i.e. one lad strikes his egg against that of his opponent, when one or both are broken; if only one, it is forfeited and becomes the property of the conqueror. Shuttlecock and battledoor is now greatly en evidence with the girls, and knur and spell with the lads. One might well, and with profit, write a chapter on the sequence of games, but such comes hardly within the scope of this work. But here and there a few will be noted when they have attached to them special peculiarities.
There is an old custom, almost dead now. It is only in hidden and unfrequented spots that it still survives—I mean ’the wading of the sun.’ It was common enough thirty years ago. The modus operandi was as follows:—As the sun rose on Easter morn, a bucket of water was placed in such a position that the sun was reflected in it. If the sun waded, i.e. glimmered in the water, it would rain that day; but if it kept fine in the morning and rained in the afternoon, then the spring would be fine and the autumn wet, and vice versa. On this morning too the flight of the crows was carefully observed; if they settled near home, instead of flying far afield to feed, the farmer shook his head, for they plainly told him, by so doing, that grub and other pests would sorely afflict his crops that year.
Friday is looked upon as an unlucky day to commence or conclude any undertaking. It is considered unlucky for the first lamb to be dropped on a Friday, to begin sowing or reaping, or to lead the last load on that day. Should the weather be very threatening, instead of finishing leading on the Friday, one stook is very often left, and not brought in until the following day.
Of St. Valentine’s Day we might truly write, ‘Poor St. Valentine! for with thee it is Ichabod.’ No longer do we find shop windows filled with works of art, wrought in silver, lace, and gold; no longer within a coral bower, hung with icicles and rosebuds, is the maiden’s hand clasped or waist encircled; no longer does a pathway of powdered fish-scales lead direct to the little church seen in the far distance, whilst the overfed cupid, who managed to sit on the edge of a very thin cloud, must have fallen off and decamped with the couple of skewered hearts which were usually floating at their own sweet will ’mid heaven. Hearts are at a discount now. Fifty years ago, love-making was a very real and somewhat pedantic proceeding; in these days, when time is money, the whole thing has been curtailed. It is—cut the dialogue and come to the bank book.
Why, there was a time, and only a few years ago, when as many pounds were spent on these love tokens as pennies now.
There may be, here and there, a maiden left who, before retiring to rest, splits a holly twig and binds within the split part a small slip of paper, upon which she has written, with her heart’s blood, the name of him she loveth best, and who places the same under her pillow, so that she may dream her fate. There may be, but I doubt it. Their grandmothers did, though.
Valentine’s Day may be dead, but April Fools’ Day is still with us. ‘Makking t’ feeal o’ yan’ is yet common. The last sell I heard of was sending a lad from one place to another for a bucket of steam. I wonder how long ago it is since the first boy was sent for ’a penn’orth o’ strap oil’ or ’a pint ov pigeon’s milk,’ &c., &c.