St. Agnes

Today being the day of St. Agnes, we are apparently supposed to put pee in our shoes. Or something. I’m a little unclear on this one.

Agnes was just 13 years old back in the day when (as the Book of Days puts it) “she sang hymns while the executioner was hacking at her neck”. Sweet girl, with some fortitude that apparently did not sit well with the Romans. As a result, she’s the patron saint of girls, and here’s where the pee comes in:

On St Agnes Day. Take a Sprigg of Rosemary, and another of Time, sprinkle them with Urine thrice; and in the Evening of this Day, put one into one Shooe, and the other into the other; place your Shooes on each side of your Beads-head, and going to Bed, say softly to your self: St. Agnes, that’s to Lover’s kind, Come ease the Troubles of my Mind. Then take your Rest, having said your Prayers; when you are asleep, you will dream of your Lover, and fancy you hear him talk to you of Love.

Aristotle’s Last Legacy

You go first. Really, I’ll do it too, but you go first, OK?


  1. Strangely, unaware of the significance of the day, I found myself resting beside the tiny church of St Anne & St Agnes in Gresham Street this afternoon . The only thing getting peed on however, was me. It was a damp day in London.

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