However, before entering upon the important discussion of the "absolute monarchy" of "the king of cakes and characters," in which, without any reference to profane ceremonies, there was sufficient found to offend puritanical ideas, we must be allowed to mention some customs observed on the vigil or eve of the feast of the Epiphany. Amongst these was the practice of wassailing the trees to ensure their future fruitfulness, mentioned by Herrick:-- "Wassail the trees, that they may beare You many a plum, and many a peare; For more or lesse fruits they will bring, As you do give them wassailing." The merry bowl which, notwithstanding that it had been so often drained, was still kept brimming throughout all the Christmas holidays, was now when they were drawing to a close actually flowing over; and the warm heart and jovial spirit of the season, not content with pledging all those who could drink in return, proceeded to an excess of boon-companionship, and after quaffing a wassail-draft to the health and abundant bearing of some favorite fruit-tree, poured what remained in the cup upon the root, as a libation to its strength and vitality. Here, also, we cannot fail to recognize the rites of classical times lurking in the superstitions used in the cider districts of England. A pleasant custom of this kind is mentioned in the Gentleman's Magazine for 1791, as existing in certain parts of Devonshire. It is there stated that "the farmer, attended by his workmen with a large pitcher of cider, goes to the orchard on this evening; and there, encircling one of the best bearing trees, they drink the following toast three times:-- "Here's to thee, old apple-tree! Whence thou mayst bud, and whence thou mayst blow! And whence thou mayst bear apples enow! Hats full! caps full! Bushel, bushel-sacks full! And my pockets full too!--Huzza!" This done they return to the house, the doors of which they are sure to find bolted by the females, who, be the weather what it may, are inexorable to all entreatries to open them till some one has guessed at what is on the spit, which is generally some nice little thing difficult to be hit on, and is the reward of him who first names it. The doors are then thrown open; and the lucky clodpole receives the titbit as a recompense. Some, it is added, "are so superstitious as to believe that if they neglect this custom the trees will bear no apples that year." "Health to thee, good apple-tree! Well to bear, pockets full, hats full, Pecks full, bushel-bags full,"-- is another version of the address used on these occasions, preserved by Brand. We find recorded in one quarter or another a variety of analogous and other customs observed in different parts of England on this vigil; but our diminishing space will not permit us to enter upon a description of them. [Illustration: TWELFTH NIGHT IN LONDON STREETS.--_Page 343._]