ee enter the window, a guest may be expected; and when the
woodpecker, commonly called the yaffle, laughs, they say the rain is
coming. When the thick mist lies in the valley, the people say it is
the White Lady, a belief closely akin to the Dame Blanche, who is said
in Normandy to haunt streams. If one row of freshly sown seeds or
potatoes does not come up, it foretells a death in the family. If a
girl mends her clothes on her back, she risks having a drunken husband.
A screech-owl is unlucky, and so also is it if a bird fly against the
window.

A woman came to the rectory a few years ago for a drop of sacramental
wine, which she wanted for an infant who had "the graspings." This
complaint I discovered to be a craving for something, accompanied by
restlessness; and it was supposed that a drop of sacramental wine would
cure an infant so troubled. If the mother before the child was born
craved for drink, this craving was communicated to the child, and could
only be remedied by a drop of wine used in Holy Communion. This
superstition, which I have met with elsewhere, probably is a relic of
pre-Reformation days, and of sacramental Reservation.

A tramp was passing through a Hampshire village a short time ago, and
calling at a house, begged for a glass of water. The woman who lived
there said that she was sorry she could not give him water to drink, as
there was a child in the house unbaptised, and therefore it would be
unlucky. The origin of this superstition it is difficult to trace.

These are some of the legends and superstitions which linger amongst
us. Every neighbourhood has its stories, its legends, and romantic
histories. It is a sad pity that these should pass away without any
record being made. Many curious customs and ceremonies relating to
christenings, marriages, and burials linger in remote hamlets; and
charms, curious remedies, and other relics of the quaint superstitions
of our forefathers, are full of interest to the lover of our English
villages.

As we walk in the fields, or study the old map of the parish, the names
of the fields invite our attention. These are full of interest, and
often tell us about matters which would be entirely forgotten. Some
names tell us of the great forests which used to exist all over the
country, when kings and noblemen, outlaws and poachers, used to hunt
the deer and the wild boars in many a successful run. These forests
were large tracts of country in its natural state