So universal is this custom in this ancient city, that it may be stated with truth some thousands of pounds are annually expended in the purchase of Valentine presents.  At the time of writing (February 2.) the shops almost generally exhibit displays of articles calculated for the approaching period, unexampled in brilliancy, taste and costliness, and including nearly every item suitable to the drawing room, the parlour, or the boudoir.  The local papers contain numerous advertising announcements of “Valentines;” the walls are occupied with printed placards of a similar character, and the city crier, by means of a loud bell and an equally sonorous voice, proclaims the particular advantages in the Valentine department of rival emporiums.  All these preparations increase as the avator of St. Valentine approaches.  At length the saint and his eve arrives—­passes—­and the custom, apparently expanding with age, is placed in abeyance until the next year.  I am inclined to believe that this mode of keeping St. Valentine is confined to this city and the county of Norfolk.

As regards priority of occurrence this year, I should have first mentioned, that on Shrove Tuesday a custom commences of eating a small bun called cocque’els—­cook-eels—­coquilles—­(the name being spelt indifferently) which is continued through the season of Lent.  Forby, in his Vocabulary of East Anglia, calls this production “a sort of cross bun,” but no cross is placed upon it, though its composition is not dissimilar.  My inquiries, and, I may add, my reading, have not led me to the origin of either of the customs now detailed (with the exception of a few unsatisfactory words given by Forby on cook-eels), and I should be glad to find these brief notices leading by your means to more extended information on both subjects, not only as regards this part of the country, but others also.

JOHN WODDERSPOON.

Norwich.

Old Charms.—­I think that, if you are anxious to accumulate as much as you can of the Folk Lore of England, no set of men are more likely to help you than the clergy, particularly the younger part, viz., curates, to whom the stories they hear among their flock have the gloss of novelty.  I send you a specimen of old charms, &c. that have come under my notice in the south-eastern counties.

No. 1. is a dialogue between the Parson and the old Dame:—­

    “P. Well, Dame Grey, I hear you have a charm to cure the
    toothache.  Come, just let me hear it; I should be so much
    pleased to know it.

    “Dame.  Oh, your reverence, it’s not worth telling.”

(Here a long talk—­Parson coaxing the Dame to tell him—­old lady very shy, partly suspecting he is quizzing her, partly that no charms are proper things, partly willing to know what he thinks about it.) At last it ends by her saying—­

    “Well, your reverence, you have been very kind to me, and I’ll
    tell you:  it’s just a verse from Scripture as I says over those
    as have the toothache:—­