s,
and after falling on their knees before a tree, to say, "I pray, O green
tree, that God may make thee good," a formula which Mr. Ralston[27]
considers has probably been altered under the influence of Christianity
"from a direct prayer to the tree to a prayer for it." At night they run
about the garden exclaiming, "Bud, O trees, bud! or I will flog you." On
the following day they shake the trees, and clank their keys, while the
church bells are ringing, under the impression that the more noise they
make the more fruit will they get. Traces, too, of tree-worship, adds
Mr. Ralston,[28] may be found in the song which the Russian girls sing
as they go out into the woods to fetch the birch tree at Whitsuntide,
and to gather flowers for wreaths and garlands:

"Rejoice not, oaks;
Rejoice not, green oaks.
Not to you go the maidens;
Not to you do they bring pies,
Cakes, omelettes.
So, so, Semik and Troitsa [Trinity]!
Rejoice, birch trees, rejoice, green ones!
To you go the maidens!
To you they bring pies,
Cakes, omelettes."

The eatables here mentioned probably refer to the sacrifices offered in
olden days to the birch--the tree of the spring. With this practice we
may compare one long observed in our own country, and known as
"wassailing." At certain seasons it has long been customary in
Devonshire for the farmer, on the eve of Twelfth-day, to go into the
orchard after supper with a large milk pail of cider with roasted apples
pressed into it. Out of this each person in the company takes what is
called a clome--i.e., earthenware cup--full of liquor, and standing
under the more fruitful apple trees, address them in these words:

"Health to thee, good apple tree,
Well to bear pocket fulls, hat fulls,
Peck fulls, bushel bag fulls."

After the formula has been repeated, the contents of the cup are thrown
at the trees.[29] There are numerous allusions to this form of
tree-worship in the literature of the past; and Tusser, among his many
pieces of advice to the husbandman, has not omitted to remind him
that he should,

"Wassail the trees, that they may bear
You many a plum and many a pear;
For more or less fruit they will bring,
As you do them wassailing."

Survivals of this kind show how tenaciously old superstitious rites
struggle for existence even when they have ceased to be recognised as
worthy of belief.

Footnotes:

1. "Outlines of Primitive Belief," 1882, p. 54.

2. "T