Among the peasants of the Spanish province of Andalusia the word “salt” is synonymous with gracefulness and charm of manner, and no more endearing or flattering language can be used in addressing a woman, whether wife or sweetheart, than to call her “the salt-box of my love.” The phrase “May you be well salted” is also current as an expression of affectionate regard.[321] Scotch fishermen have a traditional custom of salting their nets “for luck,” and they also sometimes throw a little salt into the sea “to blind the fairies.” In the Isle of Man the interchange of salt is regarded as indispensable to every business transaction, while Manx beggars have even been known to refuse an alms if proffered without it.[322] In Syracuse, Sicily, salt has won distinction as a symbol of wisdom through a curious misinterpretation of the words _sedes sapientiæ_ of the so-called Lauretane litany; these words becoming in the mouths of the people _sale e sapienza_,[323] salt and wisdom. Salt and bread, representing the necessaries of life, are the first articles taken into the dwelling of a newly married pair in Russia. And in Pomerania, at the close of a wedding breakfast, a servant carries about a plate containing salt, upon which the guests place presents of money.[324] In olden times bread and salt were reckoned the simplest and most indispensable articles of diet, and were offered to guests as a guarantee of hospitality and friendliness. The universal reputation of salt as a symbol of good-will is shown in the proverbs and current sayings of many nations. Cicero, in his treatise on Friendship, wrote that age increased the value of friendships, even as it improved the quality of certain wines; and he added further that there was truth in the proverb, “Many pecks of salt must be eaten together to bring friendship to perfection.” Inasmuch as salt is a necessary and wholesome article of diet, a generous use of it is reckoned beneficial. Evan Marlett Boddy, F. R. C. S., in his “History of Salt,” p. 78, comments with some asperity on the custom, prevalent at the tables of English gentlefolk, of placing salt in the tiniest receptacles, as if it were a most expensive substance. He regards it as anything but edifying “to see the host and his guests, in the most finical, grotesque manner, help themselves to the almost infinitesimal quantities of salt, as if it were a mark of good breeding and delicacy.” On the contrary, he continues, such stupid customs of “good society” are truly indicative of mental weakness and profound ignorance.