Very young children in Belgium look forward to the evening before November 11, which is the Day of St. Martin, because they have heard that something very exciting is going to happen.

Their parents make them stand in a corner, with their faces to the wall. They must not look round, for if they do nothing will happen. But if they are not inquisitive, ask no questions, and stand quite still, a shower of nuts and apples suddenly falls on the floor behind them. They are told that these have been thrown down from heaven by St. Martin, and they at once turn round and scramble for them.

There is another thing which is sometimes done on St. Martin's Eve. The father, or some big boy, comes into the younger children's bedroom, dressed up as the saint, with a beard and robes, and asks how the children have been behaving. If he is told they have been good, he gives them apples or sweetmeats; but if he hears they have been naughty, he pulls out a whip, throws it down, and leaves the room.

At Malines, and perhaps elsewhere, the children of poor people have a little procession of their own on St. Martin's Day, when they dress up and go about singing from house to house. One of them, who is dressed as St. Martin, carries a large basket, into which the people at whose doors they ring put apples or money. At another town, called Furnes, there is also a procession of children, who carry paper lanterns, with lighted candles in them, and march singing through the streets. The same thing is done in the country round Bruges, where the children visit the farm-houses at night, singing and asking for apples and nuts.

There are cakes, called gauffres, which are often eaten on St. Martin's Day, and are therefore sometimes called St. Martin's cakes. That favourite saint is so much spoken of in connection with eating good things that in the Valley of the Meuse they call him le bon vivant, which means the person who lives well.

Just as in England bonfires are lighted on Guy Fawkes' Day, November 5, so in Belgium they light them on the evening of St. Martin's Day. Indeed, they are known as St. Martin's fires, and the children call lighting a bonfire "warming the good St. Martin."

About a month after St. Martin's comes the Day of St. Nicholas—December 6. During the night before this saint is supposed to ride through the sky, over the fields and above the housetops, mounted on a donkey or a white horse, with a great basket stuffed full of toys, fruit, sweetmeats, and other nice things. Down the chimney of every house where there are children sleeping he drops some of these things, if the children have been good, or a whip if they have been naughty.

So on the Eve of St. Nicholas Belgian children, before they go to bed, fill their shoes, or sometimes a basket, with hay or carrots, and place them near the chimney of their sleeping-room, so that when St. Nicholas comes to the house he may find something for his donkey or horse to eat, and in return leave presents for them.

Having made these preparations, the children ought to sing or repeat verses addressed to the saint. Here is one of them—the one they sing at Lierre:

This means in English: "Noble Saint Nicholas, please throw into my little shoe just a small apple or lemon."

There is another of these rhymes which is not so polite, in which the saint is told that if he gives something, the child will serve him for life, but if he doesn't, the child will not serve him at all!

Next morning the children wake early, and jump out of bed to see what has happened during the night. They expect to find, if St. Nicholas is pleased with them, that the hay and carrots have disappeared, and that their shoes are full of presents; but that if they have not been good enough, the shoes will just be as they were the night before, and a birch-rod stuck into the hay. But, as you may suppose, it always turns out that St. Nicholas is pleased. The presents are there, and amongst them there is sure to be a gingerbread figure of the saint, which they may eat or not, as they please; so they are happy for the rest of the day.

St. Nicholas, you see, is much the same as Santa Claus, for whom stockings are hung up in England.

About a fortnight after this comes December 21, dedicated to St. Thomas, when Belgian children can play tricks on their parents in a curious way. The game is to get your father or mother to leave the house, and then lock the door and refuse to let them in till they have promised to give you something. A child will say: "Mother, somebody wants to speak to you in the garden." The mother goes out. Of course there is nobody there; and when she comes back the child calls out: "St. Thomas's Day! What will you give me to let you in?" So the mother promises something, which is usually chocolate, with a piece of cramique—a kind of bread with currants in it—and not till then is the door opened. This, of course, is great fun for the children, who always hope that their parents have forgotten what day it is, and so will be easily tricked.

A week later is the Festival of SS. Innocents, or Allerkinderendag (the day of all the children), as it is called in Flemish, which is observed in memory of the slaughter of the children by Herod. On this day Belgian children are supposed to change places with their parents, wear their best clothes, and rule the household.

They can put on their parents' clothes, and go about the house making as much noise as they like, teasing the servants and giving them orders. The youngest girl has the privilege of telling the cook what she is to prepare for dinner; and all the children may go out and walk about dressed up as old people. This is not often seen now, though poor children sometimes put on their parents' things, and beg from door to door, calling themselves "the little fathers and mothers."

These winter festivals, when the children have so much liberty and get so many presents, take the place in Belgium of the Christmas-trees and parties you have in England.