According to a belief in Iceland, the trijadent (Spiraea ulmaria) will, if put under water on this day, reveal a thief; floating if the thief be a woman, and sinking if a man.

In the Harz, on Midsummer night, branches of the fir-tree are decorated with flowers and coloured eggs, around which the young people dance, singing rhymes.  The Bolognese, who regard garlic as the symbol of abundance, buy it at the festival as a charm against poverty during the coming year.  The Bohemian, says Mr. Conway, “thinks he can make himself shot-proof for twenty-four hours by finding on St. John’s Day pine-cones on the top of a tree, taking them home, and eating a single kernel on each day that he wishes to be invulnerable.”  In Sicily it is customary, on Midsummer Eve, to fell the highest poplar, and with shouts to drag it through the village, while some beat a drum.  Around this poplar, says Mr. Folkard,[4] “symbolising the greatest solar ascension and the decline which follows it, the crowd dance, and sing an appropriate refrain;” and he further mentions that, at the commencement of the Franco-German War, he saw sprigs of pine stuck on the railway carriages bearing the German soldiers into France.

In East Prussia, the sap of dog-wood, absorbed in a handkerchief, will fulfil every wish; and a Brandenburg remedy for fever is to lie naked under a cherry-tree on St. John’s Day, and to shake the dew on one’s back.  Elsewhere we have alluded to the flowering of the fern on this anniversary, and there is the Bohemian idea that its seed shines like glittering gold.

Corpus Christi Day was, in olden times, observed with much ceremony, the churches being decorated with roses and other choice garlands, while the streets through which the procession passed were strewn with flowers.  In North Wales, flowers were scattered before the door; and a particular fern, termed Rhedyn Mair, or Mary’s fern—­probably the maiden-hair—­was specially used for the purpose.

We may mention here that the daisy (Bellis perennis) was formerly known as herb-Margaret or Marguerite, and was erroneously supposed to have been named after the virtuous St. Margaret of Antioch:—­

  “Maid Margarete, that was so meek and mild;”

Whereas it, in all probability, derives its name from St. Margaret of Cortona.  According to an old legend it is stated:—­

  “There is a double flouret, white and red,
  That our lasses call herb-Margaret,
  In honour of Cortona’s penitent,
  Whose contrite soul with red remorse was rent;
  While on her penitence kind heaven did throw
  The white of purity, surpassing snow;
  So white and red in this fair flower entwine,
  Which maids are wont to scatter at her shrine.”

Again, of the rainy saint, St. Swithin, we are reminded that:—­

  “Against St. Swithin’s hastie showers,
  The lily white reigns queen of the flowers”—­