English newspaper asked, the other day, if it improved a steel pen to
give it a period of rest. The answer was:
Yes. Rest for a steel pen is not only good, but at times absolutely
necessary, as it is for all steel tools if they are to continue in
first-class order. A member of a well-known firm of steel-pen makers
advised that if a pen gets scratchy and does not write well, it is not
necessarily finished and fit for throwing away, but is probably only
tired and in need of a rest. "Give it," said he, "a rest for a day or
two, then hold it in a gas-light for fifteen seconds, not longer, and
you will find it almost as good as new." Keeping steel pens in water
when not in use, or converting a potato into a pen-wiper, is said to
prevent corrosion and to preserve them for a long period.
Apropos of the steel pen, it is interesting to note that the earliest
notice of steel pens is one by Wordsworth. In 1806 he and his family
were occupying the house at Colerton during the absence of Sir George
and Lady Beaumont, and in the month of December the poet wrote to the
latter what he calls "the longest letter I ever wrote in my life," and
with reason, as it fills eighteen pages. He begins: "My dear Lady
Beaumont,--There's penmanship for you! I shall not be able to keep it up
to the end in this style, notwithstanding I have the very great
advantage of writing with one of your best steel pens, with which Miss
Hutchinson has just kindly furnished me."
The next mention noted is one by Dr. Kitchiner, in 1824. When speaking
of a friend above sixty, he says, "This strain of the eye and occasion
for spectacles of a high magnifying power is particularly found in
mending pens (this was when the goose-quill was the most generally
accepted tool in the trade of authorship), so that he has a sufficient
number of pens to prevent the necessity of mending any of them until he
has finished writing." To this there is appended a note: "To those who
find the mending of pens rather a difficult job, I recommend the
occasional use of the steel pen, especially when they wish to write very
small and neatly."
* * * * *
AN INDESTRUCTIBLE PRESENT.
Joe is a boy who, through the beneficence of his grandparents, is
singularly blessed with uncles and aunts, and Christmas and birthdays he
realizes it most. They give him so many toys that his father and mother,
on such occasions, usually make their presents consist in carrying out
some cherished plan of Joe's.
"Actually," his father remarked, on his most recent birthday, "Joe has
more presents now than he can break in a year."
"Oh no, papa!" said Joe, with an injured air, "there's one present I
won't break."
"Well, Joe," replied his father, "I'm glad there's one. Which is it--the
cast-iron train of cars Uncle Bill gave you?"
"Oh no!" cried Joe; "I can break that easily enough. I mean I won't
break your promise to send me to dancing-school."
* * * * *
[Illustration: "THE FUNNIEST THING HE EVER SAW."]
End of Project Gutenberg's Harper's Round Table, November 17, 1896, by Various