There was a tradition among the country people that every bird chose its mate on Valentine’s day; and at one time it was the custom for young folks to go out before daylight on that morning and try to catch an owl and two sparrows in a net.  If they succeeded, it was a good omen, and entitled them to gifts from the villagers.  Another fashion among them was to write the valentine, tie it to an apple or orange, and steal up to the house of the chosen one in the evening, open the door quietly, and throw it in.

Those were the days of charms, and of course the rural maidens had a sure and infallible charm foretelling the future husband.  On the eve of St. Valentine’s day, the anxious damsel prepared for sleep by pinning to her pillow five bay leaves, one at each corner and one in the middle (which must have been delightful to sleep on, by the way).  If she dreamed of her sweetheart, she was sure to marry him before the end of the year.

But to make it a sure thing, the candidate for matrimony must boil an egg hard, take out the yolk, and fill its place with salt.  Just before going to bed, she must eat egg, salt, shell and all, and neither speak nor drink after it.  If that wouldn’t insure her a vivid dream, there surely could be no virtue in charms.

Modern valentines, aside from the valuable presents often contained in them, are very pretty things, and they are growing prettier every year, since large business houses spare neither skill nor money in getting them up.  The most interesting thing about them, to “grown-ups,” is the way they are made; and perhaps even you youngsters, who watch eagerly for the postman, “sinking beneath the load of delicate embarrassments not his own,” would like to know how satin and lace and flowers and other dainty things grew into a valentine.

It was no fairy’s handiwork.  It went through the hands of grimy-looking workmen before it reached your hands.

To be sure, a dreamy artist may have designed it, but a lithographer, with inky fingers, printed the picture part of it; a die-cutter, with sleeves rolled up, made a pattern in steel of the lace-work on the edge; and a dingy-looking pressman, with a paper hat on, stamped the pattern around the picture.  Another hard-handed workman rubbed the back of the stamped lace with sand-paper till it came in holes and looked like lace, and not merely like stamped paper; and a row of girls at a common long table put on the colors with stencils, gummed on the hearts and darts and cupids and flowers, and otherwise finished the thing exactly like the pattern before them.

You see, the sentiment about a valentine doesn’t begin until Tom, Dick, or Harry takes it from the stationer, and writes your name on it.

[Illustration:  ST. VALENTINE’S LETTER-CARRIERS]

=Washington’s Birthday=

February 22

GEORGE WASHINGTON

Born February 22, 1732 Died December 14, 1799