_A true Abernethian._--"An old country curate," says Zimmerman, "who
had all his life resided upon a lofty mountain in the Canton of Berne,
was one day presented with a moor-cock. A consultation took place in
what manner it should be disposed of--at last it was agreed to bury it
in the garden!"
_Epitaph on a notorious Liar_.
I always _lied_ and _lied_ till death,
But now I _lie_ for want of breath.
_Castanets_ are small wooden rattles, made in the shape of two bowls
or cups, fitted together, and tied by a string, and then fastened to
the thumbs. The fingers being rapidly struck upon them, a tremulous
sound is produced, which marks exactly the measure of the dance.
Something similar to this was the _crotalon_ of the ancients, who also
made use of small cymbals in their dances and festivals in honour of
Bacchus. It is probable, however, that they had their origin in the
East, and were brought by the Moors into Spain. Here too they received
their name _castennalas_, from being commonly made of the wood of the
chestnut, (_castano_) or from their colour. They are still common in
Spain, and here and there in the South of France. In this country they
are common in stage dances only.
_Cannon_ were formerly dignified with great names. Twelve cast by
Louis XII. were called after the twelve peers of France. Charles V.
had twelve, which he called the Twelve Apostles. One at Bois-le-Duc
is called the Devil; a sixty-pounder at Dover Castle, is named Queen
Elizabeth's Pocket Pistol; an eighty-pounder at Berlin, is called
the Thunderer; another at Malaga, the Terrible; two sixty-pounders at
Bremen, the Messengers of Bad News.
_Dripping Rock, in India._--Sansadhara or the dripping rock, is a
singular phenomenon, situated at the head of a dell, through which a
rapid stream runs, between two lines of hills towards the valley of
the Dhoon. It is an overhanging rock, about 50 feet high, through
which water pours from above, in innumerable little streams, like a
perpetual shower of rain! The never-abating action of the water has
worn the rock into many fantastic shapes; and, crusting round the
moss and fibres of the roots of trees, has given to it almost the
appearance of a spar cavern. In several places the water has worn
little reservoirs for itself, which are always full. It is cool,
clear, and pleasant to the taste.--_Captain Skinner_.
_Catching Wild Ducks, &c. in India._--In the lower parts of Bengal,
wild ducks, widgeon, and teal, are often taken by means of earthen
pots. A number of these pots are floated amongst them in the lakes
where they abound, to the sight of which they soon become reconciled,
and approach them fearlessly. A man then goes into the water up to the
chin, with one of these pots over his head, in the centre of which two
small holes are made for him to see through; and when he gets into the
midst of the birds, he pulls them by the legs under water, fastening
them to a girdle round his waist.--T. GILL.
_Hampden._--Lord Nugent, in his _Memorials of John Hampden_, relates
the attack of Rupert's troops upon the village of Chinnor. A local
tradition of the affair has been related to me by an old inhabitant.
In the room of a house, until lately occupied as a boarding-school,
two of Rupert's soldiers are said to have evinced great brutality. On
entering the house, they demanded a flitch of bacon, hanging up in the
room; one of them held up a child which he had taken from a cradle,
and crossing a sword over it, threatened its immediate destruction if
their demands were not instantly complied with. There appear to
have been sharp hostilities in the vicinity of Chinnor, and more
particularly on the hills, as military buttons, sword handles, &c. and
other vestiges of war are frequently found there.--W.H.
_Parody on Scott's Lines "Breathes there the Man," &c._
Breathes there a cit, with taste so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,
"This haunch surpasses all the rest;"
Whose mouth hath ne'er within him burn'd,
Whene'er his footsteps he hath turn'd
From home, to Guildhall's civic feast?
If such there breathe, go mark him well--
For him no portly paunch can swell;
Large though his shop, his trade the same,
Boundless his wealth as wish can claim,
Despite his shop, his trade, his cash,
The wretch who knows not ven'son hash,
Living, shall forfeit civic fame,
And dying, shall descend with shame,
In double death, to Lethe's pools,
Despis'd by epicures and fools. REX.
_Alchemy and Printing._--Antimony, once celebrated in the laboratories
of the alchemists, who hoped to discover in it the philosopher's
stone, is now employed in the casting of types for printing.--There
is much food for reflection in this curious fact in the history
of science. How has this simple substance originated dreams of
spell-bound ignorance, and realities of godlike intelligence. Nay,
we are almost persuaded that the hopes of the alchemists were not
altogether unfounded--that antimony is indeed what they hoped to
find it--that the invention of printing was the finding of the
philosopher's stone; and that we are at this moment enjoying
ten-fold the advantages which the alchemists anticipated from their
secret.--J.T.
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_Printed and published by J. LIMBIRD, 143, Strand, (near Somerset
House,) London; sold by ERNEST FLEISCHER, 626, New Market, Leipsic;
G.G. BENNIS, 55, Rue Neuve, St. Augustin, Paris; and by all Newsmen
and Booksellers._
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