Gloucester, England, some years ago. The witness, on being asked his
name, gave it as Ottiwell Woodd. The learned counsel did not seem to
catch it, though it was several times pronounced. "Spell it, sir, if you
please," he said, somewhat angrily. The witness complied as follows:
"O-double t-i-double you-e-double l-double you-double o-double d." The
spelling confounded the lawyer more than ever, and in his confusion,
amid the laughter of the court, he took the witness aside to help him to
spell it after him.
_Duels Fought by Clergymen._
In England, in 1764, the Rev. Mr. Hill was killed in a duel by Cornet
Gardener, of the carbineers. The Rev. Mr. Bates fought two duels, and
was subsequently created a baronet, and preferred to a deanery after he
had fought another duel. The Rev. Mr. Allen killed a Mr. Delany in a
duel in Hyde Park, without incurring ecclesiastical censure, though the
judge, on account of his extremely bad conduct, strongly charged his
guilt upon the jury.
_A Singular Coincidence._
On the 13th of February, 1746, as the records of the French criminal
jurisprudence inform us, one Jean Marie Dunbarry was brought to the
scaffold for murdering his father; and, strangely enough, on the 13th of
February, 1846, precisely one hundred years later, another Jean Marie
Dunbarry, a great-grandson of the first-mentioned criminal, paid the
same penalty for the same crime.
_Tavern Screens._
Centuries ago, the doors of taverns had an interior screen, similar to
those in use at the present day. Lounging was just as much in vogue. In
Clare's "Shepherd's Calender," we read—
"Now, musing o'er the changing scene,
Farmers behind the tavern screen
Collect; with elbow idly press'd
On hob, reclines the corner's guest,
Reading the news, to mark again
The bankrupt lists, or price of grain,
Puffing the while his red-tipt pipe,
He dreams o'er troubles nearly ripe;
Yet, winter's leisure to regale,
Hopes better times, and sips his ale."
_Ancient Antipathy to Red Hair._
Ages before the time of Judas, red hair was thought a mark of
reprobation, both in the case of Typhon, who deprived his brother of the
sceptre in Egypt, and Nebuchadnezzar, who acquired it in expiation of
his atrocities. Even the donkey tribe suffered from this ill-omened
visitation, according to the proverb of "wicked as a red ass." Asses of
that color were held in such detestation among the Copths, that every
year they sacrificed one by hurling it from a high wall.
_Lightning-Prints._
Lightning-prints are appearances sometimes found on the skin of men or
animals that are struck by lightning, and are currently believed to be
photographic representations of surrounding objects or scenery.
At Candelaria, in Cuba, in 1828, a young man was struck dead by
lightning near a house, on one of the windows of which was nailed a
horse-shoe; and the image of the horse-shoe was said to be distinctly
printed upon the neck of the young man. On the 14th of November, 1830,
lightning struck the Chateau Benatonière, in Lavendèe. At the time a
lady happened to be seated on a chair in the salon, and on the back of
her dress were printed minutely the ornaments on the back of the chair.
In September, 1857, a peasant-girl, while herding a cow in the
department of Seine-et-Marne, was overtaken by a thunder-storm. She took
refuge under a tree, and the tree, the cow and herself were struck with
lightning. The cow was killed, but she recovered, and on loosening her
dress for the sake of respiring freely, she saw a picture of the cow
upon her breast.
_No Buttons but Brass Buttons._
There is a curious law extant in England in regard to brass buttons. It
is, by Acts of Parliament passed in three reigns, (William III., Anne
and George I.), illegal for a tailor to make, or mortal to wear, clothes
with any other buttons appended thereto but buttons of brass. The law
was put in force for the benefit of the button-makers of Birmingham; and
it further enacts, not only that he who makes or sells garments with any
but brass buttons thereto affixed, shall pay a penalty of forty
shillings for every dozen, but that he shall not be able to recover the
price he claims, if the wearer thinks proper to resist payment. The Act
is not a dead letter. Not more than thirty years ago a Mr. Shirley sued
a Mr. King for nine pounds sterling due for a suit of clothes. King
pleaded non-liability on the ground of an illegal transaction, the
buttons on the garments supplied being made of cloth, or bone covered
with cloth, instead of glittering brass, as the law directs. The judge
allowed the plea; and the defendant having thus gained a double suit
without cost, immediately proceeded against the plaintiff to recover his
share of the forty shillings for every dozen buttons which the poor
tailor had unwittingly supplied. A remarkable feature in the case was,
that the judge who admitted the plea, the barrister who set it up, and
the client who profited by it, were themselves all buttoned contrary to
law!
_Curious Signs in New York._
One may see in the shop-windows of a Fourth avenue confectioner, "Pies
Open All Night." An undertaker in the same thoroughfare advertises,
"Everything Requisite for a First-class Funeral." A Bowery placard
reads, "Home-made Dining Rooms, Family Oysters." A West Broadway
_restaurateur_ sells "Home-made Pies, Pastry and Oysters." A Third
avenue "dive" offers for sale "Coffee and Cakes off the Griddle," and an
East Broadway caterer retails "Fresh Salt Oysters" and "Larger Beer." A
Fulton street tobacconist calls himself a "Speculator in Smoke," and a
purveyor of summer drinks has invented a new draught, which he calls by
the colicky name of "Æolian Spray." A Sixth avenue barber hangs out a
sign reading "Boots Polished Inside," and on Varick street, near
Carmine, there are "Lessons Given on the Piano, with use for Practice.",
"Cloth Cutt and Bastd" is the cabalistic legend on the front of a
millinery shop on Spring street; on another street the following catches
the eye: "Washin Ironin and Goin Out by the Day Done Here."
_Recipes from Albertus Magnus._
"If thou wylt see that other men cannot see: Take the gall of a male
cat, and the fat of a hen all whyte, and mixe them together, and anoint
thy eyes, and thou shalt see it that others cannot see.
"If the hart, eye or brayne of a lapwyng or blacke plover be hanged upon
a man's neck, it is profitable agaynste forgetfulnesse, and sharpeth
man's understanding."—_Black letter copy—very old._
_Infamous Nankeen._
The wearing of nankeen at one time was so popular among gentlemen in
England, that it also became the fashion in France. English nankeen
threatened to drive all French manufactured articles of summer wear out
of the market. Louis XVI., however, was equal to the emergency. He
ordered all the executioners and their assistants to perform their
terrible office in no other dress but one made out of nankeen, which
rendered the material so "infamous" that its use was discarded.
_The Military Salute._
The military salute, which consists of the hand being brought to a
horizontal position over the eyebrows, has a very old origin, dating, in
fact, from the very commencement of the history of the English army. Its
origin is founded on the tournaments of the Middle Ages, and was as
follows: After the queen of beauty was enthroned, the knights who were
to take part in the sports of the day, marched past the dais on which
she sat, and as they passed they shielded their eyes from the rays of
her beauty.
_Book-keeping in Norway._
The process of keeping accounts among the Norway lumbermen is unique in
style. The time-keeper, after comparing accounts with the workman, sends
him to the cashier for his wages, with the amount due to him chalked on
his back; and when the cashier has paid it, he takes his receipt by
brushing off the chalk-marks.
_Curious Post-Office._
The smallest post-office in the world is kept in a barrel, which swings
from the outermost rock of the mountains overhanging the Straits of
Magellan, opposite Terra del Fuego. Every passing ship opens it to place
letters in or take them out. Every ship undertakes to forward all
letters in it that it is possible for them to transmit. The barrel hangs
by its iron chain, beaten and battered by the winds and storms, but no
locked and barred office on land is more secure.
_Inordinate Self-Esteem._
Some Frenchmen who landed on the coast of Guinea, found a negro prince
seated under a tree on a block of wood for his throne, and three or four
negroes, armed with wooden spears, for his guards. His sable majesty
anxiously inquired: "Do they talk much of me in France?"
_He's a Brick._
If this is slang, it is classical slang. Of the thousands who use the
expression, very few know its origin or its primitive significance.
Truly, it is a heroic thing to say of a man to call him a brick. The
word so used, if not twisted from its original intent, implies all that
is brave, patriotic and loyal. Plutarch, in his life of Agesilaus, King
of Sparta, gives us the original of the quaint and familiar expression.
On a certain occasion an ambassador from Espirus, on a diplomatic
mission, was shown by the king over his capital. The ambassador knew of
the monarch's fame—knew that though only nominally king of Sparta, he
was ruler of Greece—and he had looked to see massive walls rearing
aloft their embattled towns for the defence of the town; but he found
nothing of the kind. He marvelled much at this, and spoke of it to the
king.
"Sire," he said, "I have visited most of the principal towns, and I find
no walls reared for defence. Why is this?"
"Indeed, Sir Ambassador," replied Agesilaus; "thou canst not have looked
carefully. Come with me to-morrow morning, and I will show you the walls
of Sparta."
Accordingly, on the following morning, the king led his guest out upon
the plain where his army was drawn up in full array, and pointing
proudly to the serried hosts, he said—
"There thou beholdest the walls of Sparta—ten thousand men, and EVERY
MAN A BRICK!"
_Punch and Judy in 1669._
Although Punch was not originally French, he has always been greatly
esteemed in France. The following entries are found in the registers of
the royal treasury:—
"Paid to Brioché, the puppet-player, for sojourning at St.
Germain-en-Laye, during September, October and November, 1669, to divert
the royal children, 1365 livres."
"Paid to François Daitelin, puppet-player, for the fifty-six days he
remained at St. Germain, to amuse Monseigneur le Dauphin (July and
August, 1669), 820 livres."
Five successive months must almost have been enough of such amusement
for the royal children of France.
_Offending Barbers._
On the 20th of November, 1746, fifty-one barbers were convicted before
the commissioners of excise, and fined twenty pounds each, for having in
their custody hair-powder not made of starch, contrary to Act of
Parliament.
_Primitive Tavern Signs._
In Ireland, in the taverns by the road-side, in which illicit whiskey
can be obtained, the traveler is informed of the fact by a piece of turf
unobtrusively placed in the window. In the Middle Ages, road-side ale
houses in England were indicated by a stake projecting from the front of
the house, from which some object was suspended. Sometimes a garland was
hung upon the stake, to which occasional reference is made in Chaucer's
poems. The bush, however, was more common than the stake, and was often
composed of ivy. The saying "Good wine needs no bush," no doubt
originated from this custom.
_Watch-Papers._
Years ago it was the custom for watch-makers to put their business cards
inside of the case. These cards were sometimes enlivened with a couplet
or a verse, of each of which we subjoin a sample—
He that wears a watch, two things must do;
_Pocket_ his _watch_ and _watch_ his _pocket_ too.
I labor here with all my might,
To tell the hours of day and night;
Therefore, example take by me,
And serve the Lord as I serve thee.
_Echo Verse._
It was a sharp bit of echo verse that the _Sunday Times_ of London threw
off in 1831, when tickets to hear the great violinist were very high—
What are they who pay three guineas
To hear a tune of Paganini's?
Echo—Pack o' ninnies.
_Signature of the Cross._
The mark which persons who are unable to write are required to make
instead of their signatures, is in the form of a cross; and this
practice having formerly been followed by kings and nobles, is
constantly referred to as an instance of the deplorable ignorance of
ancient times. This signature is not, however, invariably a proof of
ignorance. Anciently, the use of the mark was not confined to illiterate
persons; for among the Saxons the mark of the cross, as an attestation
of the good faith of the persons signing, was required to be attached to
the signature of those who _could_ write, as well as to stand in the
place of the signature of those who could not write.
_Simply on Account of her Name._
Herrera, the Spanish historian, records an anecdote in which the choice
of a queen entirely arose from her name. When two French ambassadors
negotiated a marriage between one of the Spanish princesses and Louis
VIII., the names of the royal females were _Urraca_ and _Blanche_. The
former was the elder and the more beautiful, and intended by the Spanish
court for the French monarch; but they resolutely preferred Blanche,
observing that the _name_ of _Urraca_ would never do! And for the sake
of a more mellifluous sound, they carried off the happier-named but less
beautiful princess.
_Richelieu's Boast._
Richelieu one day boasted among his courtiers that out of any four
indifferent words he could extract matter to send any one to a dungeon.
One of his attendants immediately wrote upon a card: "_One and two make
three._." "_Three_ make only _One!_" exclaimed the cardinal. "To the
Bastile with him. It is a blasphemy against our Holy Trinity."
_Curious Parallel._
The story of Alnaschar, which is in the "Arabian Nights," tells how one
Alnaschar had invested all his money in a basket of glassware, which he
calculated to sell at a profit, and got into a day-dream of a splendid
future.
Out of the profits of his glass he was to rise into the position of a
merchant-prince, with the Grand Vizier's daughter for his wife.
Offended, in this day-dream, with the lady, he fancied that he would
spurn her before forgiving her, and kicked out his foot, which broke all
his glass and left him beggared.
Rabelais makes Echepron, an old soldier, tell the advisers of King
Picrochole, who wanted him to go to war, that a shoemaker bought a
ha'p'orth of milk. This he intended to make into butter, and buy a cow
with the money thus obtained. In due time the cow would have a calf;
this calf would be sold, and so on money would pile up, until, having
become a nabob, he should wed a princess. Only, just at this crisis, the
jug fell, the milk was lost, and the dreamer sneaked, supperless, to
bed.
_Earliest Clocks._
The first clock which appeared in Europe was probably that which
Eginhard (Secretary to Charlemagne) describes as sent to his royal
master by Abdallah, King of Persia. "A horologe of brass, wonderfully
constructed, for the course of the twelve hours, while as many little
brazen balls dropped upon bells underneath, and sounded each other." The
Venetians had clocks in 872, and sent a specimen of them that year to
Constantinople.
_Famous Astronomical Clock._
This clock, in the Strasburg Cathedral, was invented by Isaac Habrecht,
a Jewish astrologer, in 1439. He called it the "Clock of the Three
Sages," because once in every hour the figures of the Three Kings of
Orient came out from a niche in its side, and made a reverential bow
before an image of the Virgin Mary, seated just above the dial-plate, on
the front of the clock. It is built of dark wood, gilded and carved, and
is sixty feet high. In shape it is somewhat similar to a church, with a
tower on either side of the entrance; and these towers of the clock are
encircled by spiral staircases, which are used when repairs are
necessary. When Isaac Habrecht invented this wonderful clock, he meant
it to run forever, always displaying to the good people of Strasburg the
days of the month, phases of the sun and moon, and other celestial
phenomena; and while he lived it worked admirably, but when he had been
dead awhile, the clock stopped; and as nobody else understood its
machinery, it had quite a vacation, which lasted until 1681, when it was
repaired and improved.
It will now not only give the time of Strasburg, but every principal
city in the world; also the day of the week and month, the course of the
sun and planets, and all the eclipses of the sun and moon, in their
regular order. In an alcove above the dial is an image of the Saviour,
and every day, at noon, figures of the twelve apostles march around it
and bow, while the holy image, with uplifted hands, administers a silent
blessing. A cock, on the highest point of the right-hand tower, flaps
his wings and crows three times; and when he stops, a beautiful chime of
bells rings out familiar and very musical tunes. A figure of Time, in a
niche on one side, strikes the quarter hours from twelve to one, and
four figures—Childhood, Youth, Manhood and Old Age—pass slowly before
him. In a niche on the other side is an angel turning an hour-glass.
_Clock that Strikes Thirteen._
The Duke of Bridgewater was very fond of watching his men at work,
especially when any enterprise was on foot. When they were boring for
coal at Worsley, the duke came every morning, and looked on for a long
time. The men did not like to leave off work while he remained there,
and they became so dissatisfied at having to work so long beyond the
hour at which the bell rang, that Brindley had difficulty in getting a
sufficient number of hands to continue the boring. On inquiry, he found
out the cause and communicated it to the duke, who from that time made a
point of immediately walking off when the bell rang—returning when the
men had resumed work, and remaining with them usually until six o'clock.
He observed, however, that though the men dropped work promptly as the
bell rang, when he was not by, they were not nearly so punctual in
resuming work—some straggling in many minutes after time. He asked to
know the reason, and the men's excuse was, that though they could always
hear the clock when it struck twelve, they could not so readily hear it
when it struck only one. On hearing this, the duke had the mechanism of
the clock altered so as to make it strike thirteen at one o'clock, which
it continues to do to this day.
_Westminster Clock._
The winding up of the going part of the great clock at Westminster,
London, takes ten minutes, the weight of the pendulum being six hundred
and eighty pounds; but the winding up of the striking parts—the quarter
part and the hour part—takes five hours each, and this has to be done
twice a week. The contract cost of winding up the clock is $500 a year.
The error of the clock amounts to only about one second for eighty-three
days in the year, and there is probably no other clock in the world of
which the same can be said.
_Wonderful Clock._
Toward the end of the last century a clock was constructed by a Geneva
mechanic named Droz, capable of performing a variety of surprising
movements, which were effected by the figures of a negro, a shepherd and
a dog. When the clock struck, the shepherd played six tunes on his flute
and the dog approached and fawned upon him. This clock was exhibited to
the King of Spain, who was highly delighted with the ingenuity of the
artist. The king, at the request of Droz, took an apple from the
shepherd's basket, when the dog started up and barked so loud that the
king's dog, which was in the same room, began to bark also. We are,
moreover, informed that the negro, on being asked what hour it was,
answered the question in French, so that he could be understood by those
present.
_Vocal Clock._
The subjoined description of a curious clock is given in the journal of
the Rev. J. Wesley: "On Monday, April 27, 1762, being at Lurgan, in
Ireland, I embraced the opportunity, which I had long desired, of
talking to Mr. Miller, the contriver of that statue which was in Lurgan
when I was there before. It was the figure of an old man standing in a
case, with a curtain drawn before him, over against a clock which stood
on the opposite side of the room. Every time the clock struck he opened
the door with one hand, drew back the curtain with the other, turned
his head, as if looking round on the company, and then said, with a
clear, loud, articulate voice: 'Past 1,' or 2 or 3, and so on. But so
many came to see this (the like of which all allowed was not to be seen
in Europe), that Mr. Miller was in danger of being ruined, not having
time to attend to his own business. So, as none offered to purchase it,
or reward him for his pains, he took the whole machine to pieces."
_Harrison's Clock._
In 1735, John Harrison, a rural clock-maker, invented a time-piece which
scarcely ever lost five seconds in six months. To him, in 1767, was paid
$100,000, as the first prize for all but an infallible time-keeper.
_A Cat-Clock._
The following curious incident is to be found in Hue's "Chinese
Empire:"—
"One day when we went to pay a visit to some families of Chinese
Christian peasants, we met, near a farm, a young lad who was taking a
buffalo to graze along our path. We asked him carelessly, as we passed,
whether it was yet noon. The child raised his head to look at the sun,
but it was hidden behind thick clouds, and he could read no answer
there. 'The sky is so cloudy,' said he; 'but wait a moment;' and with
these words he ran toward the farm, and came back a few minutes
afterward with a cat in his arms. 'Look here,' said he, 'it is not noon
yet;' and he showed us the cat's eyes, by pushing up the lids with his
hands. We looked at the child with surprise, but he was evidently in
earnest. 'Very well,' said we; 'thank you;' and we continued on our
way.
"To say the truth, we had not at all understood the proceeding, but we
did not wish to question the little pagan, lest he should find out that
we were Europeans by our ignorance. As soon as we reached the farm,
however, we made haste to ask our Christian friends whether they could
tell the clock by looking into a cat's eyes. They seemed surprised at
the question; but as there was no danger in confessing to them our
ignorance of the properties of a cat's eyes, we related what had just
taken place. That was all that was necessary; our complaisant neophytes
immediately gave chase to all the cats in the neighborhood. They brought
us three or four, and explained in what manner they might be made use of
for watches. They pointed out that the pupils of their eyes went on
constantly growing narrower until twelve o'clock, when they became like
a fine line, as thin as a hair, drawn perpendicularly across the eye,
and that after twelve the dilation recommenced."
_Curious Time-Piece._
About 1679 Nicholas Grallier de Servierre, an old soldier who had served
in the Italian army, constructed a whimsical clock. A figure of a
tortoise, dropped into a plate of water, having the hours marked on the
rim, would float around and stop at the proper time, telling what
o'clock it was. A lizard ascended a pillar, on which the hours were
marked, and pointed to the time as it advanced. A mouse did the same
thing by creeping along an hour-marked cornice.
_Clock Presented to Charlemagne._
The French historians describe a clock sent to Charlemagne in the year
807, by the famous eastern caliph, Haroun-al-Raschid, which was
evidently furnished with some kind of wheel-work, although the moving
power appears to have been produced by the fall of water. In the dial of
it were twelve small doors forming the divisions for the hours, each
door opened at the hour marked by the index, and let out small brass
balls which, falling on a bell, struck the hours—a great novelty at
that time. The doors continued open until the hour of twelve, when
twelve figures, representing knights on horseback, came out and paraded
around the dial-plate.
_Delicate Machinery._