BOTANICAL, INDEX 
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In contrast to tliis picture, is the merriment, and sport, and good cheer, which 
prevailed when the mistletoe and holly graced the Christmas festivities in “merry 
England.” When under the “white-berried bough,” vows were whispered and lips 
of lovers met, and forfeits were paid beneath the “bough of mirth.” But alas! 
mirth and sorrow sometimes meet when least anticipated. The ballad of the “Mis- 
tletoe Bough,” is a sad instance of this. Rogers has given a version of the story in 
his poem of “Genevra,” which is more familiar, perhaps, than the beautiful old 
ballad, which we cannot omit in this connection : 
THE MISTLETOE BOUGH. 
The mistletoe hung in the castle hall, 
The holly branch shone on the old oak wall ; 
And the Baron’s retainers were blithe and gay, 
And keeping their Christmas holiday. 
The Baron beheld with a father’s pride, 
His beautiful daughter, young Lovel’s bride, 
While she with her bright eyes seemed to be 
The star of that goodly company. 
Oh ! the mistletoe bough ! 
Oh ! the mistletoe bough ! 
“I’m weary. of dancing now,” she cried; 
“Here tarry a moment — I’ll hide, I’ll hide; 
And. Lovel be sure thou’rt the first to trace 
The clue to my secret lurking place.” 
Away she ran, and her friends began 
Each tower to search, and each nook to scan ; 
And young Level cried, “Oh, where dost thou hide? 
I’m lonesome without thee, my own dear bride.” 
Oh ! the mistletoe bough ! 
Oh ! the mistletoe bough .' 
They sought her that night, and they sought her next day, 
And they sought her in vain when a week passed away; 
In the highest, the lowest, the loneliest spot, 
Young Lovel sought wildly, but found her not. 
And years fled by, and their grief at last 
Was told as a sorrowful tale long passed ; 
And when Lovel appeared, the children cried : 
“See ! the old man weeps for his fairie bride ! ” 
Oh ! the mistletoe bough ! 
Oh ! the mistletoe bough ! 
At length an oak chest, that had long lain hid, 
Was found in the castle — they raised the lid, 
And a skeleton form lay mouldering there, 
In the bridal wreath of the lady fair ! 
Oh ! sad was her fate ! in sportive jest 
She hid from her lord in the old oak chest ; 
It closed with a spring, and her bridal bloom 
Lay withering there in a living tomb ! 
Oh ! the mistletoe bough ! 
Oh ! the mistletoe bough ! 
Sir Walter Scott, in his melodious description of the manner in which his “Christ- 
ian sires of old” celebrated Christmas with “domestic and religious rite,” makes a 
pleasing reference to the mistletoe : 
“i)n Christmas eve the hells were rung; 
On Christmas eve the mass was sung ; 
That only night, in all the year, 
Saw the staled priest the chalice rear ; 
The damsel donned her kertle sheen ; 
The hall was dressed with holly green ; 
Forth to the wood did merry men go, 
To gat her in the mistletoe ; 
Then opened wide the baron’s hall 
To vassal, tenant, serf, and all ; 
Power laid his rod of rule aside, 
And Ceremony dotted his pride ; 
All hailed, with uncontrolled delight 
And general voice, the happy night 
That to the cottage, as the crown, 
Brought tidings of salvation down.” 
COVERING BABE WALLS. 
“I. B.,” in the April number of the Index, recommends covering bare walls 
with ferns, orchis, &c. A good suggestion ; but when the walls have a southern 
exposure, I would recommend to those requiring a large supply of cut dowers, to 
train heliotropes or some of the allamandas on the wall. I find in our cut flower 
trade we cannot have too much heliotrope for bouquets and baskets especially, and 
the number of flowers produced on plants grown on the “extension system” is sim- 
ply immense. Milton. 
