‘Pentecost’ was as familiar a term in the common mouth as ‘Whitsuntide,’ and thus we find both occurring in the manner mentioned. ‘Wytesunday’ is, however, now obsolete; ‘Pentecost’ still lives.[49] ‘Paske,’ for ‘Easter,’ was among the priesthood the word in general use; old writers always speak of ‘Paske’ for that solemn season. Thus, ‘Pask,’ ‘Pash,’ ‘Paschal,’ and ‘Pascal’[50] are firmly set in our directories; as, indeed, they are on the Continent also. It is the same with ‘Lammas,’ ‘Sumption,’ and ‘Middlemas;’ that is, ‘Assumption’ and ‘Michaelmas.’ Each as it came round imprinted its name at the baptismal font upon the ancestors of all those who still bear these several titles in our midst. It would be an anachronism, therefore, to suppose Mr. Robinson Crusoe to have been the first who introduced this system, as even ‘Friday’ itself, to say nothing of ‘Munday,’ or ‘Monday,’ and ‘Saturday,’ and ‘Tuesday,’ were all surnames long anterior to that notable personage’s existence. Nor, as I have said, are the less solemn feast days disregarded. ‘Loveday’ is one such proof. In olden times there was often a day fixed for the arrangement of differences, in which, if possible, old sores were to be healed up and old-standing accounts settled. This day, called a ‘Loveday,’ is frequently alluded to. That very inconsistent friar in Piers Plowman’s Vision could, it is said— hold lovedays, And hear a reves rekenyng. The latter part of the quotation suggests to us the origin of ‘Termday,’ which I find as existing in the twelfth century, and probably given in the humorous spirit of that day.[51] Nor are these all. ‘Plouday’ was the first Monday after Twelfth Night, and the day on which the farmer began his ploughing. It was a great rural holiday at one time, and the ploughmen as a rule got gloriously drunk. Similarly, we have ‘Hockerday,’ ‘Hockday,’ and perhaps the still more corrupted ‘Hobday,’ the old English expression for a ‘high-day.’ The second Tuesday after Easter was especially so termed, and kept in early times as such, as commemorative of the driving out of the Danes in the days of Ethelred. This was a likely name to be given on such a high day in the domestic annals as that on which the first-born came into the world. Happy parents would readily seize upon this at a time when the word and its meaning were alike familiar. Our ‘Hallidays’ or ‘Hollidays’ throw us back to the Church festivals, those times of merriment and jollity which have helped to such a degree to dissociate from our minds the real meaning of the word (that is, a day set apart for holy service in commemoration of some religious event), that we have now been compelled by a varied spelling to make the distinction between a ‘holyday’ and a ‘holiday.’ Thus strongly marked upon our nomenclature is this once favourite but now well-nigh obsolete custom. V.—_Patronymics formed from Occupations._