Sneeze on a Wednesday, you sneeze for a letter;
Sneeze on a Thursday, for something better;
Sneeze on a Friday, you sneeze for sorrow;
Sneeze on a Saturday, your sweetheart to-morrow;
Sneeze on a Sunday, your safety seek,
The Devil will have you the whole of the week.’”
This is certainly a comprehensive epitome of the entire philosophy of sneezing.
The finger-nails of a baby should be bitten shorter. If they are cut, the child will become “sharp fingered”—i.e., thievish.
As a specimen of the folk-tale, we may take that of the “Three Tasks.” The inhabitants of Cockerham, having made up their minds that the devil had been showing an unreasonable partiality to their village, gave the schoolmaster the not very pleasant task of expelling the Prince of Darkness from their midst. The man of letters, having raised the foul fiend, appointed him three tasks; if he failed to accomplish them he was never to appear again at Cockerham, but if he succeeded in their performance, the pedagogue became his prey. The two first tasks were soon done, but the third, the fatal, mystic third—
“Now make me, dear sir, a rope of yon sand,