namely, the famous basket trick. The man took an oblong basket about
two feet long, one foot broad, and, say, a foot and a half high. The
woman was bound hand and foot with ropes, and put into a net made of
rope, which was securely tied, so that she was practically in a sack of
network. She was then lifted and placed into the basket on her knees.
But a two-year-old child would have filled the basket, and the result
was that the whole of the woman’s person, from the loins upwards, was
above the basket. The woman bent her head; the juggler placed the
lid of the basket on her shoulders, and then threw a sheet over the
whole—hiding both woman and basket from view. In about a minute he
pulled away the sheet, folding it up in his hands, and behold, the lid
was in its proper place, and the woman was gone! The juggler now took a
sword about five feet long, and with it he pierced the basket through
and through in all directions, horizontally, diagonally, upwards, and
downwards; but there was no sign of any one inside. He even removed the
lid, jumped into the basket with his feet, and danced in it, until one
came to the conclusion that, wherever the woman had gone to, she was
not inside. The juggler again took the sheet, and after we had examined
it, he spread it over the basket, holding it tent-shaped, the apex
where his hand was being about three feet from the ground. In a minute
he withdrew the sheet once more, and behold the woman was back in her
old position on her knees in the basket; but the ropes and net had
disappeared, and she was now unbound. This trick has a few variations,
one of which is that after the woman disappears, the basket is handed
round to show its emptiness, and some other trick is exhibited, in the
middle of which the female performer reappears before the audience ere
any one can notice where she comes from.
A third juggler now made his salaam, and began by performing the
beautiful mango-tree trick. He took an earthenware pot, filled it
with earth moistened with a little water, and placed among the earth
a mango-seed which we had examined beforehand. This done, he threw a
sheet over the pot, and almost immediately removed it again, when we
beheld, to our astonishment, that the seed had in the space of, say,
half a minute become a young mango-tree. Again the sheet was thrown
over the pot, and on being a second time removed, the mango-tree had
doubled in size. The same process was repeated a third time, and now
the tree was covered with small unripe mangoes. This time the juggler
plucked the tree up out of the earth, displaying the roots and the
remains of the original mango-stone from which the tree was supposed to
have sprung.
The snake trick, which was the next item in the entertainment, is one
which has a peculiar fascination for native onlookers, for the fatal
ravages of poisonous serpents in India for centuries have produced
a horror of such reptiles among natives. Our juggler showed us a
parched skin which had once belonged to a large cobra. We examined it
carefully, and were quite sure it was a serpent’s skin and nothing
more. He placed this skin in a circular straw basket about six inches
deep. The basket was likewise examined, and we found no double bottom
or any other peculiarity about it. When he put the lid upon the basket,
it contained nothing but the empty skin—that we were equally well
assured of. The wonderful sheet before mentioned was again brought
into requisition, and was spread over the basket containing the dry
skin. After the performance of some mystic manœuvres in the air with a
little wooden doll, the sheet was withdrawn, the lid removed, and out
of the basket arose a huge hissing cobra, his hood spread in anger,
and his forked tongue darting in and out of his mouth. Some native
servants who were looking on fled precipitately in all directions; but
the juggler quickly took out an Indian musical instrument—not unlike
a miniature set of bagpipes—and began to play. A change came over the
spirit of the cobra’s spleen; his anger died away; he stood up with
half of his body in a perpendicular attitude, and presently began to
sway to and fro in a sort of serpent dance to the music. In a word, he
was charmed—for snake-charming is a reality, and not a fiction, strange
as it may seem to the people of Britain.
The government of India offers a money reward for every poisonous snake
killed in the country; and the result is that there exists in India at
the present day a class of men, called snake-charmers, who earn their
living by going about in search of serpents. They play on the peculiar
instrument before mentioned, and if any serpent is within hearing
distance, it is irresistibly attracted to the musician. Serpents will
leave the roots of hedges, holes in walls, come down trees, or forsake
paddy-fields, if they hear this strange music. They erect themselves
vertically before the player, who at once seizes them by the throat,
and puts them in a large basket or bag he carries with him for the
reception of unwise serpents.[1] What became of the dry snake skin, we
could not tell; we never saw it again.
The next performer was an elderly patriarchal-looking man, who
exhibited two trained tropical birds, the names of which I forget.
These birds did some really astonishing things, and their master
the patriarch must be a man of infinite patience. For instance, one
actually loaded a small brass cannon set on a miniature gun-carriage,
pushed the charge home with a small ramrod, and fired the piece off
by applying a lighted match, held in its beak, to the touchhole,
displaying not the slightest fear at the noise caused by the firing.
The other bird would, if its master threw any small object into the
air, seize the object in mid-air and bring it to the bird-trainer.
Numbers five and six—man and boy—of the troupe were circus-wallahs, and
gave a native gymnastic entertainment, which, as it did not materially
differ from a British performance in the same line, need not be
detailed.
Number seven was a juggler of divers accomplishments. He swallowed
swords, and put an iron hook into his nostril, bringing it out of his
mouth. Neither of these feats, however, though undoubtedly genuine, is
pleasant to look at. He blew fire and flames out of his mouth without
revealing the origin or cause of the fire, and apparently without
burning himself. He took about half-a-dozen stones of the size of, say,
a hen’s egg out of his mouth; how they got there, or how his mouth
contained them after they got there, was a mystery. He was talking
just before he began; but on being asked a question in the middle of
this stone performance, he could not speak. After discharging the big
stones, he wound up by disgorging about a handful of old nails and
miscellaneous rubbish!
A much more pleasant trick to look at was the one which followed. He
took a cocoa-nut shell with one end cut off, and filled it with water.
In the water he placed a little piece of cork, having a bent pin on one
side, and two straight pins on the other side, so that the cork as it
floated roughly resembled a lilliputian duck. The cork lay dead in the
water, and it was difficult to think what magic could possibly be got
out of it. Presently the juggler, sitting about two yards off, took out
a musical instrument and began to play a lively tune. Instantly the
imitation duck commenced to dance violently in the water, suiting its
motions to the music. The dancing continued till the tune was ended;
then the juggler ordered the duck to salaam; and he was at once obeyed.
He even requested the buoyant cork to dive to the bottom of the water;
and his request was immediately complied with. While the performance
was going on, the cocoa-nut shell was standing almost at our feet, and
the performer was not only sitting beyond reach, but both his hands
were employed in playing the instrument.
One more trick will finish my list. Our juggler told a native servant,
whom he did not know, to stretch out his arm palm upwards. Into the
outstretched palm he placed a silver two-anna piece, and—holding out
his own bony hand to show us that it was empty—he lifted the coin from
the servant’s hand, shut his own fist, reopened it in the twinkling of
an eye, and an enormous black scorpion dropped into the servant’s palm.
The latter fled shrieking with terror, for, next to the serpent, the
particular aversion of the Hindu is the scorpion.
This finished the performance. In the foregoing, I have given as fair a
description as I can of an Indian juggling entertainment; and probably
you will agree with me in thinking that the feats of the poor Indian
juggler are quite as wonderful as those of a first-class British
magician, while the former suffers from numerous disadvantages which
the latter is entirely free from.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] With regard to the theory of snake-charming, opinions differ. It is
an undoubted fact that snakes will frequently emerge from hiding-places
at the sound of the ‘charmer’s’ pipe; but shrewd observers have reason
to suspect that a single snake can be made to do duty for many, having
been taught to obey the summons of its master’s music(!) Thus, the wily
Hindu will unobserved place his scaly pupil in some hole or crevice in
the neighbourhood of a bungalow, or in the bungalow itself, whence he
will lure it on a fitting occasion before an unsuspecting audience,
who, deeming themselves well rid of an obnoxious intruder, applaud,
and remunerate the charmer for having secured and carried away his own
property!—ED.
A WORD ON WOMAN’S WORK.
BY A LADY.
While education is doing much to relieve the question of the employment
of women of some of the difficulties by which it has been surrounded,
there is still great need of further effort ere the three million of
women who are compelled to earn their daily bread shall be enabled
to do so with anything approaching ease and comfort. Among the newer
occupations for the ‘many’—few being as yet able to attain to the
height of the professions—are china and card painting; but this market
has become overstocked; and it is almost unnecessary to add that only
those who are artists in every sense of the word can hope for success,
originality of design being as necessary as correct drawing and good
finish. Many women are now employed as clerks in insurance and other
offices, and the movement has met with a large amount of success. It
is to be hoped that this will stimulate others to follow the good
example of finding employment for those who earnestly seek it, and
such employment as they have proved themselves to be most fitted for.
Numbers are employed in the Post-office; but competition is very severe
in this branch of industry, and it may be asked: ‘What will become of
the already overcrowded ranks of male clerks, if a fresh contingent be
admitted?’ The reply, I think, should be: ‘The man has many fields open
to him; the woman, few.’
Shorthand writing may yet give employment to many women; the
sewing-machine and the knitting-machine are also media for occupations
more or less lucrative, but the main object of this article is to draw
attention to an invention lately brought to our notice in various ways,
‘the Scientific Dress-cutting’—of American origin—which is being so
eagerly taken up by our countrywomen, hundreds flocking to the offices
in London to learn the ‘system’—some for the use of themselves and
families; others, as a matter of business, intending as they do to
become certificated teachers and agents. If any one is anxious or even
desirous of seeing earnest workers, let him go to the rooms of the
Association and he will be gratified indeed. Perhaps a few words from
one who has just spent some days there may not be unwelcome, as many
are inquiring about Scientific Dress-cutting.
Arrived at 272 Regent Circus, we are directed up-stairs; and at the
top of the first flight we are directed to ascend a little higher,
and then we are shown into a small room, where sits a gentleman,
who answers questions, receives fees, writes receipts, and finally,
courteously conducts us into classroom No. 1. There order reigns
supreme. On the walls are the ‘drafts’ to be copied by the pupils,
each and all correctly drawn by mathematical square measurement,
the calculations being made upon a ‘chart.’ We take a seat, and are
soon lost in the mysteries of arriving at the due proportions of a
lady’s figure. One pupil looks up with a smile and says, ‘Is it not
a fascinating employment?’ another remarks in an under-tone, ‘Well,
this _is_ a study;’ while another declares it to be ‘simplicity
itself;’ and so the work goes on. The teacher—whose patience is sorely
tried sometimes—always seems ready and willing to render the needful
assistance, and is kind and considerate alike to all. To our query,
‘How long does it take to learn this system?’ the reply is, ‘Some learn
in a few lessons, and some take longer.’ One lady had attended the
classes ‘on and off’ for a month, and attributed her prolonged study
to the lack of consecutive lessons. But this is not always practicable
when ladies live at a distance and have home duties which keep them
away for days together.
Before leaving, we are introduced to the secretary, who, like the rest
of the inmates of the establishment, until now has been a stranger to
us; and as we are introduced, and she raises her bright, cheerful,
honest English face, we feel that with her we shall meet with a
friend able and willing to advise. When we leave the first classroom,
we ascend more stairs, and are ushered into a room where skirts
are to be discoursed upon—the ‘short’ to the ‘trained’ skirt being
included in the lesson. Here we recognise faces we have seen in the
room below; and, as in the other room, we find here also all classes
represented—from the young girl who is learning to save the tedium of
apprenticeship, to the first-rate dressmaker; and among the ladies,
those of small means, who hope by the aid of the system to be better
able to make both ends meet at the close of another year; to the lady
of ample means, who has come partly out of curiosity, and partly to
ascertain whether it is worth while to send her maid to take lessons,
that her homemade dresses may in future be sure to fit well. Neither
is she the only lady nor the representative of the only class who make
at least some dresses at home, for there is scarcely a household where
this is not necessary now.
In this room we are measured; and a curious and amusing performance it
is, quite different in some respects from the way we should imagine
it to be best accomplished; and here we may say that this feat is one
of the most important in the whole process. Next to it perhaps stands
the treatment of the shoulder. Instruction, as to this is given in the
‘Hints on Dressmaking,’ with other valuable advice, as also on the
‘chart,’ which is part of the machinery sent by post with printed rules
for the sum of twenty-two shillings, including the delicately made
‘tracing-wheel.’ But to attend a class for instruction is an advantage
scarcely to be estimated by those who have not first tried to master
the difficulties by themselves, and then placed themselves in the hands
of a competent teacher; and the extra pound charged for the course of
lessons is well laid out. There is no hurry; you can stay as long as
you please, and will be kindly received; and you will pass on from
stage to stage of the study until you are perfectly acquainted with the
whole, each ‘draft’ being made separately and in its proper place in
the course of lessons. Cutting and fitting are certainly women’s work,
and those who have taken up this new branch of industry benefit not
only themselves but others.
The advantages of this system over the old plan may be summed up in one
word—economy; for it saves time, trouble, labour, and material—time,
by its exactitude; trouble, by not requiring fitting or ‘trying-on;’
labour, in the same way, and by having the turnings cut and the
stitching-line marked, which serves for a guide for tacking and
stitching; and of material, by its method of dividing and cutting. In
this way the study soon repays any one for her trouble and outlay;
added to which, it is an interesting employment; and many who have not
yet left the darkness of the old guesswork method will be surprised
that they held aloof so long, when they see how great an advantage it
is to work scientifically instead of by ‘rule of thumb.’
There are so many to whom economy is of vital importance, that we
can conceive of none to whom this new system does not come as a boon
indeed. Even those whose circumstances remove them from the necessity
of exercising it themselves, cannot tell what is in the future for
their daughters, especially should they leave the old country and go
to sojourn in distant lands. Many a father pays what he considers
an exorbitant sum per annum in dressmaking. One lady told us it was
the case with her, and that was her reason for ‘going in for the new
method,’ as she had six daughters; and hers is not an isolated case.
As agents are being appointed in the towns and cities in England and
other countries, ladies will in future be saved the journey to London,
as they will be able to attend classes in their own neighbourhood,
as they do their cookery class. As an agency, the Society has found
employment for numbers of women, who, as far as we are aware, are
satisfied with the results.
THE STENO-TELEGRAPH.
A new instrument, as we announced last month, has recently been devised
by Signor Michela, which, if successful, is likely to supersede
altogether the present system of telegraphy. By its aid, the inventor
states that it is possible to transmit from one hundred and seventy
to two hundred words a minute—or about the rate at which the majority
of speeches are delivered—in any language with which the operator is
familiar. This is certainly a great and valuable achievement; and the
instrument has this advantage over the more easily worked telephone,
that it leaves a record of the message behind.
The following brief description will assist the reader in comprehending
the method by which the instrument is worked. It is simply a
printing-machine with two rows of ten keys each—six white and four
black; the keys press on twenty studs, which by means of levers are
connected with twenty styles carrying the signs or characters used for
printing. The printed characters represent twenty phonetic sounds,
which the inventor, by combining the signs and skilfully grouping
the sounds in series, claims to be sufficient to represent all the
phonetic sounds in any language. The system of stenography which he
employs has for three years been practically tested in the Italian
Senate; and it is now for the first time employed for the electrical
transmission of words. The person who transmits the message listens to
the words as they drop from the lips of the speaker; he subjects them
to a process of mental analysis, arranges every syllable phonetically,
touches the corresponding key on his instrument, and there appears on
narrow slips of paper, as if by magic, a phonetic representation of the
speech to which he is listening—not only on the materials before him,
but on corresponding materials at the distant station with which his
instrument is connected. He keeps his slips of paper as a record; while
the slips at the receiving station are handed to persons, initiated
in the mysteries of this system of shorthand, for translation. Nor
are its mysteries of an extraordinary character, for it is said that
any intelligent person can translate this telegraphic shorthand after
fifteen days. To transmit messages with facility, a study and practice
of six months are necessary; and it is said that an expert hand can
transmit as many as two hundred words in a minute.
The aim of the inventor is to telegraph by means of a keyboard
instrument any speech, no matter in what European language, as fast as
it is spoken. His invention may also be used for the ordinary purposes
of telegraphy, with a great saving of time and labour. The instrument
has been tried in the Italian Senate; and it may be seen at work every
day at certain hours at No. 1 Rue Rossini, Paris.
The inventor claims that his instrument will be of especial value in
the transmission of parliamentary speeches in the exact words in which
they are delivered, to the different newspaper offices throughout the
city and country. It is not, however, the practice in this country—with
perhaps very rare exceptions—to reproduce verbatim reports of
parliamentary speeches; but it is possible that those who are expert
in the use of the instrument may be able to condense the reports and
at the same time transmit them to the distant station. For country
newspapers it would be absolutely necessary to send condensed reports;
and this practice would be accompanied with disadvantages—trivial
in some cases, important in others. No record would be kept in such
cases of the exact words used by the speaker, and such records are
occasionally of great moment. Where speeches are transmitted in their
entirety to be afterwards translated, or if necessary condensed,
the system would possess many advantages. Several persons could be
employed in translating from the printed slips, and the copy handed
direct to the compositors. It would, however, be attended with these
disadvantages, that the transcription would not be made by the person
who hears the speech, and consequently, any errors in manipulation
would probably pass uncorrected to the press; while in condensing, the
telling points of a speech may not receive, at the hands of any one who
has not had the advantage of listening to the speaker, that prominence
which they were intended to occupy.
The telephone has been used by the London press for a like purpose;
but although in London the distances are short, it has not been found
successful in practice, owing perhaps to the fact that it leaves no
record behind, and that if it were used, it would be necessary to
employ shorthand writers at the offices instead of in the House, as at
present. The telephone is used, however, to communicate to the writers
of leading articles what is passing in the House, so as to enable them
to compose their work in the newspaper office.
There can be no doubt, whatever the future of Michela’s instrument may
be, that it is an improvement on the present system of telegraphy, in
which each letter of a word is represented by a series of dots and
dashes; and on this account, and because it points out the direction in
which improvements in our system may be effected, we should give the
invention our encouragement and support.
MAN AND NATURE.
_The American Naturalist_ draws attention to the well-known fact, that
the larger game of the Far West has been long diminishing in numbers.
This, it goes on to say, is especially true of the bison, an animal
which is unable to escape from its pursuers, and which can hardly be
called a game animal. The once huge southern herd has been reduced to
a few individuals in North-western Texas. The Dakota herd numbers only
some seventy-five thousand head, a number which will soon be reduced
to zero if the present rate of extermination continues. The Montana
herd is now the object of relentless slaughter, and will soon follow
the course of the other two herds. When scattered individuals represent
these herds, a few hunters will one day pick them off, and the species
will be extinct.
Let the government place a small herd in each of the national parks,
and let the number be maintained at a definite figure. Let the excess
escape into the surrounding country, so as to preserve the species for
the hunters. Let herds of moose, elk, bighorn, black and white-tailed
deer, and antelope, be maintained in the same way. Let the Carnivora
roam at will; and in a word, protect nature from the destructive
outlawry of men whose prehistoric instincts are not yet dead. Let
the newer instinct of admiration for nature’s wonders have scope.
Let the desire for knowledge of nature’s greatest mystery—life—have
some opportunity. Let there be kept a source of supply for zoological
societies and museums, so that science may ever have material for
its investigations. By securing the preservation of these noblest of
nature’s works, Congress will be but extending the work it has so
grandly sustained in the past, in the support of scientific research
and the education of the people.
MICHAELMAS.
The brief September days are waning fast,
And a soft mellow fragrance fills the air
With Autumn’s sweetest incense; now the leaves
Begin to colour, and the varied hues
Of scarlet, amber, russet, crimson, dun,
Hang over wood and forest.
The bright stars
Of the chrysanthemums dot everywhere
The cottage gardens; the sweet mignonette
Still sheds her perfume ’neath the fuchsia-bells;
Scarlet geraniums and lobelias
Are in their fullest glory; here and there
A rose late-lingering shows her crimson cup,
Though gone her beauteous fellows; and aloft
The dahlia holds high her queenly head,
The sovereign absolute of all the band.
The swallows, gathering for departure, twit
Their shrill farewell; the dormouse and the bat
Go into winter-quarters; short the days,
And chill the lengthening nights:
For comes apace
Mellow October, last of the three months
That own the Autumn’s reign; then fogs and wet,
And snow and ice and wind-storms close the scene.
* * * * *