“Every pot has two handles.” This means “that one story’s good, till another story’s told;” or, “there is no evil without its advantages.”
If it is generally “good” to anticipate festival days in the Every-Day Book, it is an “evil” to be “behind-hand;” and yet “advantages” have sometimes resulted from it. For instance, the day of “the Furry” at Helston, elapsed before this sheet was sent to press; but a correspondent who was present at the festival on that day in the present year, 1826, sends an account of the manner wherein it is conducted at present; and though the former “story’s good,” his particular description of the last Furry, is a lively picture of the pleasant manner, wherein it continues to be celebrated: thus is illustrated the ancient saying, that “every pot has two handles.”
It would be ill acknowledgment of the annexed letter to abridge it, by omitting its brief notice of the origin of the Furry, already adverted to, and therefore the whole is inserted verbatim.
Helston “Furry, or Flora Day.”
To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.
Sir,—Having for several years past resided in Cornwall, (from whence I have lately returned,) I beg to inform you of one of their gayest days of amusement, which is regularly kept up in the borough of Helston on the eighth day of May.
It originated from the Roman custom of paying an early tribute of respect to the goddess Flora; the garlands of flowers worn on the occasion confirms this opinion. This festival commences at an early hour: the morning is enlivened by the sound of “drum and fife;” and music, harmony, and dance are the sports of “high and low”—“from morn to night.” Some of the oldest townsmen chant some ancient ditties—not very comprehensible, “nor is the melody thereof enchanting.”
The hilarity of the day precludes the possibility of doing business; every consideration but mirth, music, and feasting is set at naught. Should any persons be found at work, they are instantly seized, set astride on a pole, and jolted away on men’s shoulders, amidst thousands of huzzas, &c., and at last sentenced to leap over the river, (which by the by is none of the narrowest,) the result which therefore frequently happens is—they jump into it. The payment of a certain fine towards the expenses of the day saves them from this cooling.
At nine in the morning the mob gathers round the various seminaries, and countless voices demand a holiday for all in them, which is acceded to: a collection from the housekeepers is then commenced towards the general fund. While this is going on, the young folks of both sexes go to the gardens of the neighbourhood, and return at twelve with their heads dressed out with gay flowers, oak branches, &c. On entering the town they are joined by a band of music; they dance through the streets to the “Flora Tune.” In their progress they go through every house and garden they please without distinction; all doors are opened, and, in fact, it is thought much of by the householders to be thus favoured.