“ All in ye Merrie Month of May ” 
Domestick Scenes.” In Roumania I have been told there 
used to be a practice called the Onion Kalendar. Overnight 
twelve onions hollowed out were put in a row and salt dropped 
into each one, they being named during the process after 
the twelve months of the year. In the morning those 
onions wherein the salt has melted show which will be the 
rainy months. A cooked onion is said to bring back voice 
lost from cold ; it is also “ good for the Biting of a Mad 
Dog, Serpent, or any other Yenemous Creature, being laid 
thereto ” ; while <c the liquid Juice will cure Baldness ” ; and 
many other medicinal virtues the humble Onion would 
seem to have, even to “ the causing of Crocodiles’ tears 
when desired.” Peas were held in high repute, and there 
is an old saw advising us to eat peas with the King and 
cherries with the beggar. Water in which peas were boiled 
was deemed a cure for measles, while Pease-broth, “ made 
good and strong with Knuckle of Veal and Legs of Pork, 
wonderfully Restores in Consumptions.” Peascod-wooing 
used to be practised long ago, and is mentioned by Gay in 
his poems. If a maid shelling peas happened to find a pod 
with nine peas in it, and laid it on the threshold of the 
kitchen-door, the first man who stepped over it would be her 
future lover. Codde is an old Anglo-Saxon word for “ bag,” 
in Icelandic Kodde a pillow ; a pillowslip used to be called in 
Roxburghshire long ago a Codhule ; and Codde, indeed, 
survived in Scotland for a long time, so a Peascod is just 
a bag of peas. Stow describes delightfully a City of 
London madam as having dyed red hair, decorated with a 
hood of muslin and gold threads, and open peascods with 
pearls doing duty as peas. Peas were considered rather un- 
common dainties in Queen Elizabeth’s time. I am not sure 
they were not introduced then, which may account for Queen 
Elizabeth’s odd fancy for having a white satin spencer all 
embroidered with green peapods left open to show the peas 
within. There were Butterflies, too, on this lovely garment. 
There is something very fascinating about a peapod. I was 
once given a China one, of delicate green, half open, disclos- 
ing a row of tiny children’s heads. “ Made in Germany ” 
M7 
