Botany of the Borders. 405 
old custom of switching each other’s hands with bunches of 
the common nettle for ten days previous to the autumnal va- 
cation of our parish school. 
The border maidens of the olden times seem to have so 
greatly distrusted their natural charms to captivate lovers, 
that we have notice of at least half-a-dozen plants possessed 
of various occult virtues for attaining that end. The holly- 
leaf must be pulled at midnight, with much ceremony; the 
even leaf of the ash must be placed in the shoe; the tu- 
ber of Orchis latifolia must be pushed unseen into the 
swain’s pocket by the rural enchantress; a cluster of nine 
hazle-nuts, a “ ninesome bobbin,” is a love-charm to dream 
upon, and it is rich in prophetic suggestions; the love-sick 
swain may place a leaf of the millefoil in his nostril and turn | 
it three times round, thinking of his lass, and if his nose 
bleeds, he is sure to get her; and, lastly, both lad and lass 
might practise divination by placing two representative 
Kemps (Plantago lanceolata), deprived of all appearance of 
inflorescence, below a stone for the night, as the florets blow 
in succession, the appearance of the blossom next morning 
is held to be a most happy omen for the anxious lover. In 
the description of Solomon’s seal, Convallaria Polygonatum, 
our author quotes from Gerarde: “ The root of Solomon’s 
seal stamped while it is fresh and greene, and applied, taketh 
away in one night, or two at the most, any bruise, black or blew 
spots, gotten by falls or women’s wilfulnesse, in stumbling 
vpon their hasty husband’s fists, or such like.’ Here, as 
in other parts of Great Britain, the mountain ash, or rowan- 
tree, enjoyed great reputation as an antidote to witchcraft ; 
the elder was next to it in reputation. Witches and elder- 
trees once flourished in the border village of Auchincraw. 
Time was when its wood was esteemed for the clothyard 
shafts of the bowmen of the border; whilst the present re- 
stricted use of its fruit as a preserve, and for making a cor- 
dial, and its inner bark as an ingredient in salves, &c., seems 
to have descended to us from a remote age. 
Not only in the works of old herbalists, whose limited 
worth all will acknowledge, but often in names contemplated 
singly, there are stores of historical and moral truth, as 
