In India there is a regular cult of the holy basil (_Ocymum sanetum_), or _Tulasî_, as it is called, which appears to be a transformation of the goddess Lakshmî. It may be gathered for pious purposes only, and in so doing the following prayer is offered: "Mother _Tulasî_, be thou propitious. If I gather thee with care, be merciful unto me. O _Tulasî_, mother of the world, I beseech thee." This plant is worshipped as a deity,--the wife of Vishnu, whom the breaking of even a little twig grieves and torments,--and "the pious Hindus invoke the divine herb for the protection of every part of the body, for life and for death, and in every action of life; but above all, in its capacity of ensuring children to those who desire to have them." To him who thoughtlessly or wilfully pulls up the plant "no happiness, no health, no children." The _Tulasî_ opens the gates of heaven; hence on the breast of the pious dead is placed a leaf of basil, and the Hindu "who has religiously planted and cultivated the _Tulasî_, obtains the privilege of ascending to the palace of Vishnu, surrounded by ten millions of parents" (448. 244). In Denmark, there is a popular belief that in the elder (_Sambucus_) there lives a spirit or being known as the "elder-mother" (_hylde-moer_), or "elder-woman" (_hilde-qvinde_), and before elder-branches may be cut this petition is uttered: "Elder-mother, elder-mother, allow me to cut thy branches." In Lower Saxony the peasant repeats, on bended knees, with hands folded, three times the words: "Lady Elder, give me some of thy wood; then will I also give thee some of mine, when it grows in the forest" (448. 318-320). In Huntingdonshire, England, the belief in the "elder-mother" is found, and it is thought dangerous to pluck the flowers, while elder-wood, in a room, or used for a cradle, is apt to work evil for children. In some parts of England, it is believed that boys beaten with an elder stick will be retarded in their growth; in Sweden, women who are about to become mothers kiss the elder. In Germany, a somewhat similar personification of the juniper, "Frau Wachholder," exists. And here we come into touch with the dryads and forest-sprites of all ages, familiar to us in the myths of classic antiquity and the tales of the nursery (448. 396). In a Bengalese tale, the hero, on coming to a forest, cries: "O mother _kachiri_, please make way for me, or else I die," and the wood opens to let him pass through (426. 250). Perhaps the best and sweetest story of plant mythology under this head is Hans Christian Andersen's beautiful tale of "The Elder-Tree Mother,"--the Dryad whose name is Remembrance (393. 215). _Mother-Thumb._