The flower’s modern Italian name, Sposa di Sole, has probably been given to it in reference to this legend. On May-day, country people strew Marsh Marigolds before their doors, and twine them into garlands. Some think the Caltha palustris to be Shakspeare’s “winking May-bud with golden eye,” which, if plucked with due care, and borne about, will hinder anyone from speaking an angry word to the wearer.
MASTIC.—The Mastic or Pistachio-tree (Pistacia Lentiscus), the symbol of purity and virginity, was particularly dear to Dictynna, a nymph of Crete, and one of Diana’s attendants. Following her example, the Greek virgins were fond of adorning themselves with Mastic-sprays; and at the present time, in the isle of Chios, where the Mastic-tree flourishes, they eat the gum to preserve sweetness of breath. The Mastic is stated to have been under the special protection of Bacchus, as being the tree under which the Bacchanals found and slew Pentheus, King of Thebes, who had forbidden his subjects to acknowledge the new god.
Mather.—See [Mayweed].
Maudlein, Maudelyne, or Maudlin.—See [Costmary].
Maudlin Wort.—See [Moon Daisy].
MAURITIA.—The Moriche Palm (Mauritia flexuosa) is regarded as a sacred tree by the Mexican Indians. Certain tribes live almost entirely on its products, and, strange to say, build their houses high up amongst its leaves, where they live during the floods. These Indians have a traditional Deluge, which they call the Water Age, when there was only one man and one woman left alive. To re-people the earth, the Deucalion and Pyrrha of the new world, instead of stones, threw over their shoulders the fruit of the Moriche Palm, and from its seeds sprang the whole human race. The Moriche is regarded as a deity among the Tamancas, a tribe of Oronoco Indians.
MAY.—The Hawthorn has obtained the name of May, or May-bush, from the time of its flowering. In Suffolk, it is believed to be unlucky to sleep in a room in which there is May in bloom. In Sussex, to bring a branch of blossoming May into the house is thought to portend a death. It was a custom in Huntingdonshire, forty years ago, for the rustic swains to place a branch of May in blossom before sunrise at the doorway of anyone they wished to honour, singing the while—
“A branch of May we have brought you,
And at your door it stands;
It is but a sprout,