Bloomington herald. [volume] (Bloomington, I. T. [Iowa]) 1840-1849, 1845-09-27
ENGLISH HARVEST CUSTOM.

/
An annual festival was now a, hand
called the Rush Bearing. for which all tn,
maldens in the parish about Lucy an.
Ruins age. and indeed much younger
had been making preparations. The orr
gin Of this rite, evidently of religious ma
'ure. is not distinctly known. but its ,ele
bra'ion is. with good reason, supposed ,e
De thanksgiving for the hay harvest
II takes place in most districts of West.
moreland, near The end Of July. when the
hay fields are beginning to &c. green agar
with the after grass, and season almos
OF comparative inactivity in,ervenes be-
tween i, and the first week of September
when the corn-GeIds are yellow for the
sickle. Being sacred institution, the
Rush Bearing. beautiful sigh, as i, ls, par.
takes OF somewhat solemn character
and although no prayers are said. no
hymns are snng. bu. all is silent, and The
very meaning of the rite obscure, yet a,
lis close, nothing like amusement, or re.
creation occurs. nothing to break The spiri,
of ceremonial which piously regards the
gratitude Of the creature, and the bounty
Of the Creator.
In the parish Of Ellesmere, the Rush
Bearing had, from time immemoriaI. been
observed with more than ordinary a!.en>
ton. The good vicar-which is no, usu
al in other places-aIways took upon
himself the arrangement. of the process
ion. The children all me, at The vicarage.
each provided with her flower garland.
dressed in white. and adorned with rib,
bands, whose colors gay. and sometimes
even garish, were. notwithstanding. pleas.
an, to behold in that infant band. No.
thing whatever was worn on the head.
but every riDglet flowed free and uncon-
fined. Ranked according to their height.
the innocen, creatures walked two BY two,
with their Aower-garIands in their hands;
and thus the procession moved. silent as
a dream. towards the solitary chapel
Lucy and her cousin Martha walked side
by side; and it was upon this day that
they might be said 10 have begun to love
one another with sis,erly Affection
Every heart was happy, i, knew no, why,
for every Child that walked IN that fair ar
ray felt the beauty Of that whole of which
itself made part; and one spiri. Of harmo.
NOUS feeling prevailed the living chain.
from the two leading maidens now on the
| verge of woman. to the last two small
scarcely a6le to Keep up'@nmn1e STE"
pace Of the procession. The birds kept
flying from bough to Dough as the Rush
Bearing passed through the coPrice woods,
and in every quiet pasture the lambs trlsk
ed among their knobs. The chapel door
was open, and in wen, the quie. sisterhood
TO deposit their fower-garlands on the
pews. the pulpit, and the altar.
In few minutes. the interior OF the
chapel, which. with its dark oak furni-
,ure. stained walls, and low-raf,ered roof.
was perhaps somewhat gloomy. glowed
with a thousand brigh, and gorgeous col
ors. Many Of the garlands had been
framed with much taste, of garden flowers
both rich and rare, bu, indeed it is not
possible to join together multitude OF
blossoms and buds. and flowers and
leaves, without the aggregate being most
beautiful. The Rush Bearers themselves
"a name originating in another custom,
now disused-could not help cycling. with
delighted wonder. the splendid show OF
their distributed gar'ands; and then ar
ranged as before. they reverensly left the
chapel, and returned to the vicarage.
There, beneath the solemn shadow of that
ancient yew.,ree, the wears wife had set
on. tables Of simple viands the same Ia
bles a, which the merry haymakers had
taken their meals. The vicar blessed the
bread and fruit; and when the repast was
over, some of the elder maieens surg d
hymn. Ruth Colinson whispered to her
father tina, Lucy would sing one Of the
psalms used a, the kirk at fiolylee; and
leaf would have been heard TO tall while
she warbled-
.Plaintive martyrs, worthy ofthe name
The sun was setting in all his glory ;
and Agnes, who was now strong enough
sometimes to leave her bed. bad been for
a shor, time sitting at the window, oil
which Michael ven,ured to open few
panes. jus. as Lucy began TO sing by her.
self
The Lords my shepherd. II: not want,
| He makes me down to lie
In pastures green; he ieadeth mo
The quiet waters by
| Professor Wilson.