According to an old adage, the laurestinus, dedicated to St. Faine (January 1), an Irish abbess in the sixth century, may be seen in bloom:—­

  “Whether the weather be snow or rain,
  We are sure to see the flower of St. Faine;
  Rain comes but seldom and often snow,
  And yet the viburnum is sure to blow.”

And James Montgomery notices this cheerful plant, speaking of it as the,

  “Fair tree of winter, fresh and flowering,
  When all around is dead and dry,
  Whose ruby buds, though storms are lowering,
  Spread their white blossoms to the sky.”

Then there is the dead nettle, which in Italy is assigned to St. Vincent; and the Christmas rose (Helleboris niger), dedicated to St. Agnes (21st January), is known in Germany as the flower of St. Agnes, and yet this flower has generally been regarded a plant of evil omen, being coupled by Campbell with the hemlock, as growing “by the witches’ tower,” where it seems to weave,

  “Round its dark vaults a melancholy bower,
  For spirits of the dead at night’s enchanted hour.”

At Candlemas it was customary, writes Herrick, to replace the Christmas evergreens with sprigs of box, which were kept up till Easter Eve:—­

  “Down with the rosemary and bays,
  Down with the mistletoe,
  Instead of holly now upraise
  The greener box for show.”

The snowdrop has been nicknamed the “Fair Maid of February,” from its blossoming about this period, when it was customary for young women dressed in white to walk in procession at the Feast of the Purification, and, according to the old adage:—­

  “The snowdrop in purest white array,
  First rears her head on Candlemas Day.”

The dainty crocus is said to blow “before the shrine at vernal dawn of St. Valentine.”  And we may note here how county traditions affirm that in some mysterious way the vegetable world is affected by leap-year influences.  A piece of agricultural folk-lore current throughout the country tells us how all the peas and beans grow the wrong way in their pods, the seeds being set in quite the contrary to what they are in other years.  The reason assigned for this strange freak of nature is that, “it is the ladies’ year, and they (the peas and beans) always lay the wrong way in leap year.”

The leek is associated with St. David’s Day, the adoption of this plant as the national device of Wales having been explained in various ways.  According to Shakespeare it dates from the battle of Cressy, while some have maintained it originated in a victory obtained by Cadwallo over the Saxons, 640, when the Welsh, to distinguish themselves, wore leeks in their hats.  It has also beeen suggested that Welshmen “beautify their hats with verdant leek,” from the custom of every farmer, in years gone by, contributing his leek to the common repast when they met at the Cymortha or Association, and mutually helped one another in ploughing their land.