Misson, a learned traveller, relates an amusing practice which was kept up in his time:--"On the eve of St. Valentine's day, the young folks in England and Scotland, by a very ancient custom, celebrated a little festival. An equal number of maids and bachelors assemble together; all write their true or some feigned name separately upon as many billets, which they rolled up, and drew by way of lots, the maids taking the men's billets, and the men the maids'; so that each of the young men lights upon a girl that he calls his Valentine, and each of the girls upon a young man which she calls her's. By this means each has two Valentines; but the man sticks faster to the Valentine that falls to him, than to the Valentine to whom he has fallen. Fortune having thus divided the company into so many couples, the Valentines give balls and treats to their fair mistresses, wear their billets several days upon their bosoms or sleeves, and this little sport often ends in love." In Poor Robin's Almanack, 1676, the _drawing_ of Valentines is thus alluded to: "Now Andrew, Antho- Ny, and William, For Valentines _draw_ Prue, Kate, Jilian." Gay makes mention of a method of choosing Valentines in his time, viz. that the lad's Valentine was the first lass he spied in the morning, who was not an inmate of the house; and the lass's Valentine was the first young man she met. Also, it is a belief among certain playful damsels, that if they pin four bay leaves to the corners of the pillow, and the fifth in the middle, they are certain of dreaming of their lover. Shakspeare bears witness to the custom of looking out of window for a Valentine, or desiring to be one, by making Ophelia sing:-- Good morrow! 'tis St. Valentine's day, All in the morning betime, And I a maid at your window. To be your Valentine! In London this day is ushered in by the thundering knock of the postman at the different doors, through whose hands some thousands of Valentines pass for many a fair maiden in the course of the day. Valentines are, however, getting very ridiculous, if we may go by the numerous doggrels that appear in the print-shops on this day. As an instance, I transmit the reader a copy of some lines appended to a Valentine sent me last year. Under the figure of a shoemaker, with a head thrice the size of his body, and his legs forming an oval, were the following rhymes:-- Do you think to be my Valentine? Oh, no! you snob, you shan't be mine: So big your ugly head has grown, No wig will fit to seem your own Go, find your equal if you can, For I will ne'er have such a man; Your fine _bow_ legs and turned-in feet, Make you a _citizen_ complete."