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The First of February

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And from that time to this the housekeepers have a rhyme to say on Saint Brigit's day, bidding them to bring out a firkin of butter and to divide it among the working boys. For she was good always, and it was her desire to feed the poor, to do away with every hardship, to be gentle to every misery. And it is on her day the first of the birds begin to make their nests, and the blessed Crosses are made with straw and are put up in the thatch; for the death of the year is done with and the birthday of the year is come. And it is what the Gad of Scotland say in averse:

"Brigit put her finger in the river on the feast day of Brigit, and away went the hatching-mother of the cold.

"She washed the palms of her hands in the river on the day of the feast of Patrick, and away went the birth-mother of the cold."

A Book of Saints and Wonders according to the Old Writings and the Memory of the People of Ireland

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