Mrs. Gerard tells us that "a particular growth of vine leaf, whose exact definition I have not succeeded in rightly ascertaining, is eagerly sought by Saxon girls in some villages. Whoever finds it, puts it in her hair, and if she then kisses the first man she meets on her way home she will soon be married. A story is related of a girl, who having found this growth, meeting a nobleman in a carriage stopped the horses and begged leave to kiss him." To which he consented. This particular growth, unknown to Mrs. Gerard, is when the leaves or tendrils or shoots form a natural knot. Among the gypsies in Hungary, as may be elsewhere read, such knots in the willow are esteemed as of great magic efficacy in love. A knot is a symbol of true love in all countries. "This knot I tie, this knot I knit, For that true love whom I know not yet." On Easter Monday in Transylvania the lads run about the towns and villages sprinkling with water all the girls or women whom they meet. This is supposed to cause the flax to grow well. On the following day the girls return the attention by watering the boys. "This custom, which appears to be a very old one," says Mrs. Gerard, "is also prevalent among various Slav races, such as Poles and Serbs. In Poland it used to be de rigeur that water be poured over a girl who was still asleep, so in every house a victim was selected who had to feign sleep and patiently receive the cold shower-bath, which was to ensure the luck of the family during the year. The custom has now become modified to suit a more delicate age, and instead of formidable horse-buckets of water, dainty little perfume squirts have come to be used in many places." As the custom not only of sprinkling water, but also of squirting or spraying perfumes is from ancient India (as it is indeed prevalent all over the East), it is probable that the gypsies who are always foremost in all festivals may have brought this "holi" custom to Eastern Europe. Of late it has extended to London, as appears by the following extract from The St. James's Gazette, April, 1889. "The newest weapon of terror in the West End is the 'scent revolver.' Its use is simple. You dine--not wisely but the other thing--and then you stroll into the Park, with your nickel-plated scent revolver in your pocket. Feeling disposed for a frolic, you walk up to a woman, present your weapon, pull the trigger, and in a moment she is drenched, not with gore but with scent, which is nearly as unpleasant if not quite so deadly. Mr. Andrew King, who amused himself in that way, has been fined 10s. at Marlborough Street. Let us hope that the 'revolver' was confiscated into the bargain."