occupation
of the future husband of the girl who poured it.

"Now something like a horse would cause the jubilant maiden to
call out, 'A dragoon!' Now some dim resemblance to a helmet would
suggest a handsome member of the mounted police; or a round
object with a spike would seem a ship, and this of course meant a
sailor; or a cow would suggest a cattle-dealer, or a plough a
farmer."

SHARP: _Threefold Chronicle._

After the future had been searched, a piper played a jig, to which
all danced merrily with a loud noise to scare away the evil
spirits.

Just before midnight was the time to go out "alone and unperceived"
to a south-running brook, dip a shirt-sleeve in it, bring it home
and hang it by the fire to dry. One must go to bed, but watch till
midnight for a sight of the destined mate who would come to turn
the shirt to dry the other side.

Ashes were raked smooth on the hearth at bedtime on Hallowe'en, and
the next morning examined for footprints. If one was turned from
the door, guests or a marriage was prophesied; if toward the door,
a death.

To have prophetic dreams a girl should search for a briar grown
into a hoop, creep through thrice in the name of the devil, cut it
in silence, and go to bed with it under her pillow. A boy should
cut ten ivy leaves, throw away one and put the rest under his head
before he slept.

If a girl leave beside her bed a glass of water with a sliver of
wood in it, and say before she falls asleep:

"Husband mine that is to be,
Come this night and rescue me,"

she will dream of falling off a bridge into the water, and of being
saved at the last minute by the spirit of her future husband. To
receive a drink from his hand she must eat a cake of flour, soot,
and salt before she goes to bed.

The Celtic spirit of yearning for the unknown, retained nowhere
else as much as in Ireland, is expressed very beautifully by the
poet Yeats in the introduction to his _Celtic Twilight_.

"The host is riding from Knocknarea
And over the grave of Clooth-na-bare;
Caolte tossing his burning hair,
And Niam calling: 'Away, come away;

"'And brood no more where the fire is bright,
Filling thy heart with a mortal dream;
For breasts are heaving and eyes a-gleam:
Away, come away to the dim twilight

"'Arms are heaving and lips apart;
And if any gaze on our rushing band,