The fifth month is regarded as the most "poisonous" of all the months in the year, and antidotes and charms of all kinds are necessary to repel the deadly influences that assail suffering humanity at this period. Children are protected from the many dangers that surround them by tying bands of parti-coloured silk threads round their fore-arms. Among the most efficacious family-charms is the mugwort plant (Artemisia moxa), which is hung over every doorway. Prof. Giles cites an old saying to the effect that "if on the Tuan Wu festival one does not hang up mugwort, one will not eat any new wheat"; and explains it by the comment that a famous rebel named Huang Ch'ao gave orders to his soldiers to spare any family that exhibited this plant at its door. But the superstitious use of mugwort is far more ancient than any such story would imply. Its extreme antiquity is shown by the fact that this plant has been similarly used as a valued charm against evil in other parts of the world, including France, Germany and Britain.[148] The custom in such lands was to pluck the plant at the summer solstice (Midsummer Day) and to wear it on the person or (as in China) to hang it over the doorway. This is only one of innumerable examples of the strange unity that seems to underlie old popular customs and superstitions all the world over.
In spite of the terrible potency of the evil things rampant during the fifth month, it is supposed in Weihaiwei that from sunrise to sunset on the fifth of the month (the festival we are now considering) all poisonous and destructive influences—material and spiritual—totally disappear, perhaps owing to the efficacy of the charms universally used against them on that day. It is believed that even poisonous plants are absolutely innocuous if plucked and eaten on the fifth of the fifth moon, while medicinal herbs attain their supreme degree of efficacy.
A well-known custom is to rise early and walk exactly one hundred paces into a grass-field without turning the head; then to pluck one hundred blades of grass, which must be carefully taken home. The grass is put into a pot of water and thoroughly boiled. The water—into which all the virtues of the grass are now supposed to have passed—is poured through a strainer into a second vessel, and the grass-blades are thrown away. A second boiling now takes place, and the liquid is poured into a bottle and kept for use as required. It is believed to be a sovereign remedy for headaches, small wounds and bruises, and various nervous disorders. The Chinese know it as pai ts'ao kao—"hundred-grass lotion." The wise men who hand down this valuable recipe from generation to generation are careful to explain that the medicine will be of no avail whatever if any of the prescribed conditions have been neglected. It is absolutely necessary to walk neither more nor less than one hundred paces, to pluck neither more nor less than one hundred blades of grass, and to boil and strain the water in the manner laid down. Above all, everything must be done on the fifth day of the fifth month, as it is only on that day that ordinary grass possesses ling—spiritual or health-giving properties.
The seventh day of the seventh month is celebrated throughout China in connection with a love-story to which allusion is constantly made in Chinese literature. It is said that the Herd-boy (the star β γ Aquila) and the Spinning Maiden (α Lyra), separated throughout the rest of the year by the Milky Way, are allowed to cross a mystic bridge made by magpies, and to meet and embrace each other on that night only. In Weihaiwei, where there are large numbers of magpies, it is said that not one of these birds will ever be seen on this day until after the hour of noon: all having gone up to the skies to perform the duty of making a bridge for the celestial lovers. The day is regarded as one of good omen and suitable for fortune-telling and the drawing of lots.
On the preceding evening (the sixth of the month) boys and girls put bowls of water on the window-sill and leave them standing all night. In the morning each child picks a bristle from an ordinary broom[149] and places it carefully on the surface of the water. The shadow made in the water by the bristle is supposed to indicate the child's future lot in life. If, for instance, the shadow seems to take the shape of a Chinese brush-pen, the boy will become a great scholar; if it is shaped like a plough he will remain in the condition of a peasant or farmer. I have been told of a child who saw in the water the form of a fish. This was interpreted to be a mu yü or the "wooden fish" of Buddhist temples—a queer hollow instrument of wood that lies on every Buddhist altar in China and is tapped by the monks while reciting their prayers. The wise men of the neighbourhood foretold, therefore, that the boy was destined to become a monk. The prophecy was a true one, for subsequently of his own accord he entered "the homeless state."
Another children's amusement on this occasion is to catch a spider and put it under an inverted bowl. If, when the bowl is turned up, the spider is found to have spun a web, the child and his parents are overjoyed: for it is supposed that good fortune will adhere to him throughout the ensuing year just as a captured fly adheres to a spider's web.
On the fifteenth of the seventh month sacrifices are again offered to the dead. This is a "Festival of Souls."[150]