of Baden. He was abducted in infancy and placed in solitary confinement
in a dark room for 18 years. He first saw the light of day when he
wandered from his cell and apparently appeared from nowhere in Anspach,
Bavaria. Although he was nearly a grown man, his mental development
was that of a two-year-old child. The mystery surrounding him, and his
curious behavior, aroused a great deal of interest at the time ... and
since.
* * *
[Illustration]
BABE RUTH HIT 125 HOME RUNS IN ONE HOUR
Ruth, greatest of all baseball players, performed this prodigious
clouting feat in an exhibition game on Wrigley Field, Los Angeles,
February, 1927. Babe, who always aims to please, stood at the plate for
an hour while several pitchers tossed balls at him which he walloped
over the fence--125 in all.
* * *
THE HANDY LETTER WRITER
Herr Kurtz received an anonymous letter daily for twenty years! He is
the owner of one of the Government tobacconist’s stores of Vienna in
the 2nd ward, and after a few years of receiving the letter he tried to
induce the Minister of Post and Telegraphs of Austria to refrain from
delivering his mail altogether but his efforts were unsuccessful. The
letters arrived daily from 1901 to 1921 and then ceased suddenly as
though the tireless sender had died at last.
Curiously enough the contents of the letter were entirely innocent.
_Ref.: “Neue Freie Presse” of Feb. 1921._
* * *
THE BOOK WORM
Gustave Lebair, who, for 60 years read the same book daily at the
Bibliothèque Nationale, was a famous bibliomaniac and well known to
frequenters of the Bibliothèque Nationale of Paris. The particular book
he read, “St. Appolonius of Tiane,” was in some way connected with an
event in his youth.
The book “_Bibliomania_” by Hertzen, where I found the statement
about Lebair, goes to some lengths to explain his persistence on
psychological grounds. Bibliomaniacs are book lovers whose passion
manifests itself in some strange way.
* * *
A BEAVER’S DAM
François I, King of France, issued a decree making the wearing of
whiskers punishable by death.
“Qu’ils aient dedans 3 jours a faire ou oster leur dite Barbe sous
peine de la hart.”
_Receuils des Ordinances Folio 48 Paris, 1557._
* * *
“THE PLACE OF DRUNKENNESS”
The Indian word for New York is Manhattan, or Manna-ha-ta, and means
“The Place of Drunkenness.” This name is traceable to the year 1524
when Giovanni Verrazzano, the Florentine explorer, landed for the first
time at what is now the lower extremity of New York City and gave the
Indians their first taste of firewater. A good time was had by all,
and ever after the natives referred to the island as “Manna-ha-ta” or
“place of drunkenness.”
_Ref.: Rev. John Gottlieb E. Heckewelder’s “History of Early
Manhattan.”_
* * *
THE IDEAL LANDLORD
Frau C. Worth, owner of a large apartment house in Berlin, did not
collect any rents from her tenants for twenty years.
* * *
A WEEK WITH TWO THURSDAYS
On an occasion in 1147, Pope Eugene III reached Paris on a Friday.
Inasmuch as Friday was a fast day, and to enable the populace properly
to celebrate his entry into the city, the Pope decreed that Friday was
Thursday!
Hence a week with two Thursdays.
* * *
ENDURING FAME
“Chauffeurs” were a famous band of brigands in France in 1793. They
were so called because they tortured their victims by burning their
feet.
* * *
The following is a news item from the Barstow (Cal.) _Times_. It reads:
“Bill Jarrett has just returned to Barstow from the Death Valley
country. Bill worked for six weeks on the graveyard shift for the
Corpse Mining Company in the Coffin mine, located in Dead Man’s
Canyon in Funeral Range at the end of Death Valley. Bill is leaving
next week for a prospecting trip to the Devil’s Playground in Hell’s
Half Acre.”
* * *
THE BOBBING ISLAND
In Lake Ilfungen, in Livonia, is a small island that does a
disappearing act once each year. Toward the end of October, or early in
November, the island sinks beneath the surface of the lake.
In the spring the island reappears and remains all summer, so that
farmers raise and cut hay on it.
* * *
[Illustration:
SIDIS--THE
PRODIGY
COULD RECITE
THE ALPHABET
AT THE AGE OF
6 MONTHS
THE FIG-TREE TOMB
BEN WANGFORD--AN ENGLISH NAVAL OFFICER (1800)
WAS BURIED WITH A FIG IN HIS HAND (--his dying wish)
AND THE TREE HAS BURST THE TOMB!
PARISH CHURCH, WATFORD, ENG.
W. C. PERRY
of Belleville, Kan.
MADE A HOLE-IN-ONE
ON A BLIND
HOLE
June
1928
THE PEG-LEGGED COW
[signature]]
* * *
THE FIG-TREE TOMB
This celebrated curiosity can be seen in a little churchyard a few
miles outside of London. It is located close beside the Parish Church
(St. Mary) in Watford, an ancient shrine of faith where “Prayer and
Praise have been offered to God for seven hundred years.”
The Rev. Henry Edwards, Vicar, sent me the following information about
the man who was buried with a fig in his hand. The Vicar concluded with
a prayer.
“The Fig-Tree Tomb, near the S. wall of the Parish Church of Watford,
is the source of many old tales, the most authentic being that of Ben
Wangford, a naval officer, who did not believe in the future life,
and wished when buried to have something placed with his remains that
might germinate and burst the tomb, in order that, if it did, his
friends would know that his opinion was wrong.”
* * *
SIDIS--THE PRODIGY
Sidis was one of the four noted American prodigies; Winifred Stoner II,
Edward Harvey, Jr., and John Trumbull, the poet, were the other three.
Dr. Boris Sidis, professor at Harvard, was his father.
At the age of six months Sidis could recite the alphabet; at two he
could read and write; and at the age of eleven he matriculated in
Harvard and astounded his professors by discussing the fourth dimension.
* * *
THE ILLITERATE CALCULATOR
Jedediah Buxton, the illiterate calculator, in a month’s time, without
the aid of paper or pencil, figured out that a cubical mile could
contain 586,040,972,673,024,000 human hairs. It took him three months
to multiply an English farthing 140 times with itself, arriving at the
figure of 725, 958, 238, 096, 074, 907, 868, 531, 656, 993, 638, 851,
106 Pounds, 2 Shillings, 8 pence.
He was then asked to multiply this stupendous sum by itself and after
two and one-half months announced the result to be 527, 015, 363, 459,
557, 385, 673, 733, 542, 638, 591, 721, 213, 298, 966, 079, 307, 524,
904, 381, 389, 499, 251, 637, 423, 236 pounds.
* * *
THE GIRAFFE GIRL
“_--On the road to Mandalay,
Where the flyin’-fishes play,
An’ the dawn comes up like thunder
outer China ’crost the Bay!_”
If you follow the above road to Toungoo and then ascend the hills
to the west you will come to the land of the Giraffe women, the
long-necked Burmese belles of Padaung. The Kewawngdu, as they call
themselves, are remarkable for the extraordinary collars of brass that
they weld around their necks from time to time until a giraffe-like
effect is obtained.
In Burma “Her throat is like the swan” is not a mere poetic figure of
speech in so far as length is concerned. Some of the women brought down
to Mandalay to be gazed at by the Great King of Righteousness and the
Dwellers in the Palace, have necks fourteen and fifteen inches long.
The neckband consists of brass rods, as thick as your little finger,
commencing with a wide base on the shoulder blades and reaching up to
the chin. Little girls begin wearing them as early as possible usually
starting with five rings, which are as much as most of them can manage,
but as the neck is kept constantly on the stretch, additional ones are
added from time to time until the ordinary limit of twenty-one coils is
reached. Twenty-five and more have been worn, however.
At the back of the neck, fastened through the main coil, is a large
heavy ring which is used for tying up these rubber-necked ladies
whenever the occasion demands such procedure.
If the family be well-to-do, similar coils of brass are added to the
arms and legs; and the length of these seems only limited by the
ability to pay for the rings--for brass is very expensive. Sometimes
the total weight of brass carried by Padaung flappers is as much as
sixty or seventy pounds: yet burdened with this weight, they hoe the
fields, carry water for domestic use, and brew liquor.
The brass-collar fashion has no apparent effect on their health, and
the only noticeable effect is that the women speak as if someone had
them tight around the neck.
[Illustration: A KEWAWNQDU]
* * *
GOD’S HEAVEN
Of course you expect to go to Heaven when you die. We all do. The hope
is in all of us, that when we die, we will go to Heaven and rejoin the
other members of our family who have passed on.
Take my advice: make a reservation. Heaven is becoming very crowded and
it is extremely doubtful whether you can get in; and should you manage
to squeeze yourself past the pearly gates it is even more doubtful
whether you could find your family among all that crowd.
We will say that you go to Heaven to meet your father and mother and
the rest of your kith and kin. When you meet your father and mother,
they will be with their father and mother, for they would have the same
desire to be with their parents as you have to be with them. And their
parents in turn would be with their parents; so on back through the
countless generations of mankind.
So you will have to meet them all. You cannot be snooty in Heaven, you
know, and snub anybody.
Now, if we take 25 years as a generation, we find that there have been
77 generations since the time of Christ. And if we count only your
parents, their parents, and so on backward for that length of time,
we find that you will have to meet 302,231,454,903,657,293,676,543
different relatives.
Our own little world would not hold that stupendous number.
If that many people were on earth today they would have to be stacked
up on each others’ heads. Allowing them two feet to stand on this would
make a stack of one solid mass of folks 113,236 miles high all over the
earth’s surface.
Suppose you wanted to say “hello” to your dear old grandfather who
happened to be located some 113,000 miles up the heap. Of course you
would have to climb--there would be no other way except to scramble
up this human bean-stalk like little Jack. Let us assume that you can
climb one-half as fast as the U. S. Army marches--which is 15 miles a
day. If you climbed at the rate of 8 miles a day you would reach your
old grandpap about 39 years later--providing you didn’t get yourself
knocked off meanwhile for stepping on somebody’s ear in the ascent. Of
course you will be able to slide down faster and should reach your own
place in Heaven about 50 years after you left it.
That is 2 generations--which means that maybe your children and some of
your children’s children will have squeezed in and been looking around
for you. You really couldn’t expect anybody to hold your place for you
for 50 years, so do not be surprised if you are out all around and not
able to find your own children anywhere ... which means that you will
have a hell of a time in Heaven.
Mind you, the above figures do not include brothers, sisters, uncles,
aunts, nieces, nephews, cousins and other relatives. Also I am allowing
only for 1928 years, although scientists tell us that man has been on
earth for countless generations before that time--some estimate it as
100,000 years. And, since science has proved so conclusively that you
are related to all animals with four legs or a long tail that have
lived on this earth for the last 100,000,000 years, you will have to
include them too. They are all your ancestors!
As a social proposition the celestial outlook appears a bit
embarrassing, doesn’t it?
St. John records the limits of Heaven in Revelations, XXI., 16:
“... He measured the city with the reed, twelve thousand furlongs.
The length, and the breadth, and the height of it are equal.”
Twelve thousand furlongs is 7,920,000 feet, and when cubed this is
equal to 496, 793, 088, 000, 000, 000, 000 cubic feet--in other words
Heaven as visualized by St. John is about 15 miles long in each
dimension. If you allow 10 cubic feet as ample space for a human being,
you will find that Heaven can hold about 49, 679, 308, 800, 000, 000,
000 persons if packed in tight. This calculation does not allow for the
streets of gold or the trees of marvelous leaves and fruits, or the
“pure river of water of life, clear as crystal, proceeding out of the
throne of God and of the Lamb.”
It is apparent that Heaven was filled up several hundred years ago--or
about the time that Columbus was discovering America.
What to do?
Obviously there is but one way out. You must die sometime, and since it
is so evident that you cannot go to Heaven, where shall you go----?
You said it.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
THE VOCAL MEMNON
THE STATUE THAT SPEAKS
A mile from the Nile on the opposite shore from the ruins of Karnak two
huge stone figures sit in staring isolation. Each represents a colossal
king 64 feet high, seated upon a throne, which is itself supported by
a pedestal. Though the faces of both have been hacked out of all human
resemblance, everyone knows that these statues are the effigies of the
same King--Amunoph, or Amenhotep, whose son’s daughter married King Tut.
One of the colossi is mute, but the other is the famous Vocal Memnon,
the statue that speaks!
That is--it did speak. There are 87 legible Greek and Latin
inscriptions upon the legs of Memnon which testify to the time and hour
of the day at which the phenomenon was heard. Famous men of many ages
listened. There are the words of Emperor Hadrian, Sabina, his wife,
Tacitus, Pliny, Pausanias, Lucian, and Strabo describing the miraculous
musical sound emanating from the stone ... “like the snapping of a
huge harp string” ... “like the sound of smitten brass.” Some heard
the voice of the image several times. According to the inscriptions
February and March seemed to be by far the most propitious months, and
the morning hour the most favored vocally--as soon indeed as the sun’s
rays fell upon the statue--as though “Aurora kissing her son upon the
lips received an articulate reply.”
The explanation?
Two alone of the many hypotheses put forward are worth considering.
A multitude of wild conjectures, based principally on imagination,
but claiming pseudo-scientific or mechanical interest, crumble away
when touched by the merciless finger of fact. There, remain the rival
theories that the voice of Memnon was a fraud practised by the ancient
Egyptian priests; and the other that it was a natural phenomenon
to be explained by physical causes. The latter theory has the most
credence--the conclusion irresistibly suggests itself that the sound
was due to some peculiar relation between the warmth of the rising sun
and the great block of cracked and sundered stone.
It has been a long time since our hero has spoken, and it seems that
Memnon’s lyre has lost the chord
That breathed the mystic tone.
Certainly they do not recognize the cartoonist’s profession. I was
stared at in stony silence on the occasion that I stood before the
Vocal Memnon and his mute companion and waited patiently for a word
from them. It was near dusk, and the glowing sun was sinking suddenly
down behind the hills that enclose the Valley of the Tombs of the Kings
as it caused the images to darken hugely and throw out long-streaking
shadows that emphasized the size of them and made their silence louder
than words.
[Illustration]
THE KING WHO WAS CROWNED BEFORE HE WAS BORN
Apparently such a thing could never happen.
But it did.
In Persia, during the 4th century, the wife of Shah Hormouz remained
pregnant at the time of her husband’s death, and the uncertainty of the
sex of the unborn child, as well as the event, excited the ambitious
hopes of the princes of the house of Sassan who were moved to seize the
throne.
The apprehensions of civil war were at length removed by the positive
assurances of the Magi that the widow of Hormouz had conceived and
would safely produce a son. Obedient to the voice of superstition, the
Persians prepared, without delay, the ceremony of his coronation. A
royal bed on which the Queen lay in state was exhibited in the midst of
the palace in the presence of the assembled multitude, and the crown of
the Sassanids was placed on the spot which might be supposed to conceal
the future heir. Meanwhile the prostrated assembly adored the invisible
and insensible sovereign.
The magi proved to be correct in their prophecies, and the crowned
child was a boy who lived to rule an extraordinary length of time under
the name of Sapor II.
_Ref.: Gibbon’s “Decline and Fall.”_
* * *
Chou Kung, who invented the compass, had a swivel wrist on which he
could turn his hand completely around.
* * *
Lollia Paulina, wife of Caesar Caligula, wore a dress valued at
$2,000,000 and a pearl necklace worth $3,500,000.
_Ref.: Pliny the Elder._
* * *
A small toy balloon was released in New Jersey by A. Perry and was
found later in Venezuela by J. Quintero of Maracaibo.
* * *
Leon Avazian, of New York, climbed the stairs to the top of the
Woolworth Building in 9 minutes. 55 stories. 1520 steps.
* * *
[Illustration]
THE 153-YEAR-OLD BRIDEGROOM
Zaro Agha is never too old to yearn.
The stalwart old Turk, who is probably the oldest person alive, was
married in 1927 despite his 153 years. During his long and eventful
life, Agha has buried ten wives and twenty-seven children, but he was
not discouraged and his spirit is ever young--and the mystery of a
woman’s veil allured him.
Zaro possesses a keen memory which enables him to tell tales of events
that reach back to our Revolutionary War days. He makes an annual visit
to President Kemal who always gives him a hearty handshake and several
hundred liras. The Governor of the city of Constantinople has presented
him with a house, and last year the Prefect made him Municipal
Doorkeeper for life.
* * *
THE EYELESS INFANT
This child is now four years old and normal in every way except for the
complete absence of eyes. He was born with his frontal bone joining to
the cheek bones which eliminated even the eye sockets which are but
slightly indicated by two small depressions.
The boy was born in Sablonceaux (Charente Inférieure), France, and has
six brothers and sisters who are all normal.
_Ref.: Gazette Médicale de Paris._
* * *
Robert Jones who performs this remarkable feat of strength and balance
is worthy of a place among the famous Joneses of athletic history.
Young Robert is a pupil of the celebrated Paulinetti, and is an
accomplished acrobat and gymnast.
He stands on his thumbs on Indian clubs with ease--and he is ready to
do it anytime.
Jones lives in Philadelphia where he is attached to the editorial staff
of the _Strength Magazine_.
* * *
THE LYRE BIRD
This beautiful bird is obviously so-called from the shape of its tail.
The extraordinary tail of this bird is often upwards of two feet in
length, and consists of sixteen feathers, formed and arranged in a
very graceful and curious manner. The two outer feathers are broadly
webbed, and, as may be seen, in the illustration, are curved in a
manner that produces the appearance of an ancient lyre. The two central
tail-feathers are narrowly webbed, and all the others are modified with
long slender shafts, bearded with alternate feathery filaments which
well represent the strings of the lyre.
The tail is seen in its greatest beauty between the months of June and
September after which time it is shed. The bird is a native of New
South Wales.
* * *
[Illustration:
ROBERT
JONES
--of Pine Bluff, Ark.
CAN STAND ON
HIS THUMBS
ON INDIAN CLUBS
THE
EYELESS
INFANT
--of SABLONCEAUX
(Charente-Inferieure, France)
WAS BORN
WITHOUT ANY
EYES WHATEVER.
1925
PHIL HANNA
--of Epworth, Ill.
HAS HANGED
55 CRIMINALS
THE
LYRE
BIRD]
* * *
SINGING SANDS
One warm afternoon in Honolulu--it seems to be always afternoon
there--I was stretched full-length on the sands of Waikiki doing
nothing--as is my wont--except watching the two Kahanomoku boys and
Kealoha do tricks on their surf boards when the Duke casually suggested
“Why don’t you draw a picture of the Barking Sands?”
What?
“Sure,” continued the Duke, “the sands of Kauai over yonder actually
bark when you step on them.”
Sands that bark, eh? I had to see the doggone place. Kauai is one of
the western islands of the Hawaiian group about 75 miles from Honolulu.
Along the shore at Nahili is this series of wind-blown sand-hills about
60 feet high and stretching along for about a half mile. The front wall
is quite steep. The bright white sand is composed of coral, shells and
particles of lava, and true enough it possessed the particular property
of emitting a sound, when stepped on, like the barking of a dog. Two
handsful when clapped together produce the same phenomenon. The sound
varies with the degree of heat, the dryness of the sand, and the amount
of friction employed. The drier the sand the louder the sound--and our
running foot steps sounded like rolling thunder.
Since then I have learned that this strange caper of nature is known in
other parts of the world under different names such as Singing Sands,
Sounding Sands, Rumbling Sands, Musical Sands, etc.
Marco Polo wrote of the musical sand-hills of Tunyang in Central Asia.
Ibn Batutah, the Moor of Tangier, speaks of the Hill of Drums near
Mecca. The famous Friar Odoric tells of the Reg-i-Ruwan, or Moving
Sands of Kabul, and Lord Curzon writes of many of them in his “Tales of
Travel.”
The exact cause of this sonorous quality in sand has not been fully
agreed upon. The scientific explanation is rather difficult. The
American researchers, Doctors Bolton and Julien arrived at the
following conclusion:
“The true cause of the sonorous property is connected with thin
pellicles or films of air or of gases thence derived, deposited,
and condensed upon the surface of the sand-grains during gradual
evaporation, after wetting by the sea, lakes or rains. By virtue of
these films the sand-grains become separated by elastic cushions of
condensed gases, capable of considerable vibration. The extent of
the vibration and the amount and tone of the sound thereby produced
after quick disturbance of the sand, is largely dependent upon the
forms, structures, and surfaces of the sand-grains, and especially
upon their purity or freedom from fine silt or dust.”
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
OYSTERS THAT CATCH MICE
Irish oysters of course! Probably bi-valves of any other nationality
would not be so pugnacious.
Be that as it may; there has been a battle royal going on this year on
the northeast coast islands off Donegal. Thus far the limpets have had
far the better of it and thousands of rats have fallen in the unequal
struggle.
The armies of rats which infest this district have been adventuring to
the waterside in quest of food. At low tide the rats insert their noses
between the partly opened shells of the oysters, hoping to make a meal
off the edible shell-fish, but the latter are exceedingly sensitive
to the slightest touch and instantly close on their enemies with a
vise-like grip. The rats are held tight as in traps, and soon the
rising tide creeps in and crowns the oysters victors.
* * *
Here is a letter from Mr. Henry C. Avery, of Fishers Island, New York.
“Dear Rip:
Yesterday at low tide my family and I were witnesses to a tragedy of
unusual nature. A pair of kingfishers had been our friends for weeks,
making our dock their headquarters, and flying around us without fear.
My daughter and I were digging clams in about an inch of water, when
one of the kingfishers darted down within a few feet of us and struck
at something in the water. He struggled with it as a robin often does
with a worm. The struggle lasted not more than half a minute as we
walked toward the bird. As I drew near the bird was still. I tried
to lift it from the water but it held fast. I then dug deep into the
mud and brought up a large clam of the hard-shell variety which had
clamped firmly to the bird’s bill. The bird was dead, either drowned
or died of fright.
Believe It or Not,
Henry C. Avery.
Aug. 7, 1925.”
* * *
[Illustration]
A Billion Dollars in London is Worth a Thousand Times As Much As a
Billion Dollars in New York
Strange as it may seem, an English billionaire is many times richer
than an American billionaire.
And why not?