Transactions. 81 
with a frying pan or whatever other tinkling instrument may be 
most convenient, a custom which, as an old writer quaintly 
observes, “may be of good use to let the neighbours know you 
have a swarm in the air, but of very little purpose to the re- 
claiming of the bees.” The hare, like the cat, is looked upon 
with suspicion, and when a hare crosses the path of a wayfarer 
it isan omen of impending misfortune. Toads, again, are con- 
sidered “pushionable beasts;” while the Common Lizard or 
“Ask” is supposed to be addicted to jumping down people’s 
throats. As a crowning absurdity, we have the belief that when 
horse hairs are put into water they turn into eels. 
New-Year’s Day in Scotland, although fast being superseded 
by Christmas as a festival, has long possessed its distinctive rites 
and ceremonies. In Glencairn our boys and girls still go through 
the village on New-Year’s Eve chanting the song— 
Hog-nog-nay, troll-lol-lay, 
Gie’s a piece of pancake, 
An’ Pll rin away ; 
I'll naither come to your door 
To beg or to borrow, 
But Dll come to your door 
To sing away sorrow. 
Among their elders the practice of first-footing is engaged in with 
equal spirit, and not always, we fear, with equal judgment, for 
while the intention may be friendly, the consequences are often 
such as all true friends must deplore. In the earlier years of the 
century children were not unfrequently allowed to join in these 
midnight revels, and we can easily imagine the demoralising 
effect of the excesses to which they must often have been eye- 
witnesses. In better regulated households the observance took a 
less vicious form, each child being presented with a “ piece” and 
a penny “for luck” before leaving bed on New-Year’s morning. 
Another peculiar custom associated with the anniversary of the 
year was the rivalry among village maidens to get the “ream ” 
or “flower of the well,” the maiden who reached the well first 
being supposed to get the best husband. 
Twall struck. Twa neebour hizzies raise, 
Av’ Jiltin’, gaed a sad gate ; 
“<The flower o’ the well” to our house gaes, 
An’ I'll the bonniest lad get. 
ll 
