The servants are all versed in the common modes of trying luck, and
the charms to insure constancy. They read their fortunes by drawing
strokes in the ashes, or by repeating a form of words, and looking in
a pail of water. St. Mark's Eve, I am told, was a busy time with them;
being an appointed night for certain mystic ceremonies. Several of
them sowed hemp-seed to be reaped by their true lovers; and they even
ventured upon the solemn and fearful preparation of the dumb-cake.
This must be done fasting, and in silence. The ingredients are handed
down in traditional form: "An eggshell full of salt, an eggshell full
of malt, and an eggshell full of barley-meal." When the cake is ready,
it is put upon a pan over the fire, and the future husband will
appear, turn the cake, and retire; but if a word is spoken or a fast
is broken during this awful ceremony, there is no knowing what
horrible consequences would ensue!
The experiments, in the present instance, came to no result; they that
sowed the hemp-seed forgot the magic rhyme that they were to
pronounce--so the true lover never appeared; and as to the dumb-cake,
what between the awful stillness they had to keep, and the awfulness
of the midnight hour, their hearts failed them when they had put the
cake in the pan; so that, on the striking of the great house-clock in
the servants'-hall, they were seized with a sudden panic, and ran out
of the room, to which they did not return until morning, when they
found the mystic cake burnt to a cinder.
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