house after the marriage, broken bread of various sorts is thrown over her before she enters. The same ceremony is gone through with the bridegroom at his father's door. In Rosehearty barley is sometimes thrown over them as they come to the feasting place.
When it is time for the guests to separate, the bridegroom with his best man goes to bring the bride to her future home. She carries something eatable to give to the unmarried guests at "the bedding." At that time the sleeping apartment is filled with them in the full spirit of "daifery." She throws one of her stockings from the bed, and then begins the struggle to get possession of it, which ensures the next marriage. Sometimes, e.g. in Pittulie, the light is extinguished before the throwing of the stocking; the one that is struck by it is fortune's favourite for the next matrimonial alliance.
The day after the marriage all the female friends who were guests wait on the bride with a present. In former times it was made in kind, now it is given in money, and is shaken into her hand when she holds it out in welcome to her visitor. It may range from a shilling upwards, according to the means of the giver. All are entertained to tea. In Pittulie this after-marriage present is made on the evening of the marriage day before the guests separate, as the opportunity of shaking it into her hand—"crossin her han w' siller"—occurs. It is made by all, or, at least, by most of the guests, both male and female. In some of the villages, e.g. Rosehearty, there is at times a dance. Each young woman selects a young man for the first dance, which is called the "favour reel," and ties a ribbon round his arm. He is in honour bound to answer the call. He pays for this dance, commonly a shilling. The money so collected goes to defray the expense of the music and everything in connection with the dance.
The following may be added as an appendix, but the opinions are not confined to the fishing population; the belief about the number of children is widely spread:—
It is a firm conviction of many that each woman is destined to have a certain number of children. A woman was speaking one day to her minister of her sister's large family and weak health, and among other things said:—"Gehn it wir the Lord's will, she hiz muckle needit she hid up her nummer."
Here is another conversation to the same effect:—"Your son's boy is troubled with gripes. So wiz Jamie, but the girlie wizna." "Oh, deed aye," replied the grandmother. "He should hae them a'
