Page images
PDF
EPUB

Journal

supposed to be endowed, by endeavouring to deprive her of the pebbles by unfair means. At length, however, a man named Gordon, in whose house she lived, determined to possess himself of them, and formed a plot for their capture. But the woman, discovering his design, escaped in the direction of the loch. Gordon pursued. Finding that she could no longer escape her pursuer, the woman threw the pebbles far out into the loch, exclaiming in Gaelic, Mo-nar! (that is, 'shame' or literally, 'my shame!'). From this exclamation the loch is said to have received the name which it still retains-Loch-mo-nar, and the pebbles are supposed to have imparted to the water its curative

power.

One would suppose from this simple legend, which attaches no conditions to the manner in which patients should avail themselves of the peculiar power with which the water is imbued, that it would be an easy matter for one to test its efficacy. There are, however, many ceremonies to be observed-as strange as they are inconvenient to the unfortunate patients; though how they originated cannot be ascertained. The only condition which appears reasonable is that by which the covetous Gordon and all his descendants are for ever denied any benefit from the water. There are only four days in the year on which cures can be effected-the first Monday (old style) of February, May, August, and November; and the ceremonies must be gone through between twelve o'clock on Sunday night and sunrise on Monday morning. The practice of visiting the loch in February and November has long been discontinued, owing, doubtless, to the extreme unpleasantness of taking a midnight bath at such times.

The blazing fires reveal in a strong light the faces of the company, some of whom are still only half-dressed; while upon the surrounding heather and the dark water close by, is cast a peculiar and ever-changing ruddy glare. Beyond, is the blackness of night-nothing being visible except the dark outline of the neighbouring hills, whose huge forms show themselves dimly against the sky. As soon as the dawn begins to appear, the gathering breaks up, and all prepare for departure-it being a rule that they must be out of sight of the loch before the sun rises, else their trouble will have been in vain. After filling the now empty whisky bottles with water, for the use of helpless patients at home, a start is made on the homeward journey, and the scene assumes its usual aspect.

These strange proceedings have of late years been gradually falling into disuse, but even still they may be occasionally seen. At one time, scores of men and women used to visit the loch

some to try its efficacy, while others went out of mere curiosity, for the 'Loch-mo-nar night' doings always created great interest in the district. Many cures were attributed to the mysterious power of the water. It is noticeable, however, that the majority of those who sought such a cure were persons suffering from nervous complaints and disordered imaginations, to whom the excitement of a midnight plunge in the loch, preceded and followed by a long journey in the bracing air of the hills and glens, might contribute all that was necessary to restore them to health, especially when supplemented by a strong belief that a speedy cure would follow. The water gets the credit of all the cures; while, on the other hand, the failure to restore a patient's health is generally attributed to some breach of the observed conditions.

Shortly after midnight, the patients begin to arrive in carts, attended by relatives or friends, many of the arrivals having travelled long disTHE KNAVE OF DIAMONDS. tances during the previous Sunday. Without loss of time, the sick are transferred to the My name is George Lewis. I was born in banks of the loch, and roaring fires are lit in Dublin; and I am a commercial traveller. My several places. This accomplished, the patients first attempt to become a bagman was attended immediately seek a cure by first throwing a with such remarkable circumstances, that I piece of silver money into the loch as a kind of venture to think they will be deemed worthy of tribute; then, wading into the water, they plunge three times beneath the surface; and finally a record in these pages. In the autumn of 1881 few mouthfuls are swallowed by each patient. I was a clerk in a lawyer's office, on a very Those who are able to take their bath without small salary and with long hours of business. assistance, may suit themselves as to the length I saw no prospect of any improvement, and was of time they will remain in the water; but their unfortunate brethren who require to be carried in, often narrowly escape drowning, through the mistaken zeal of their friends, who are careful to give them a thorough immersionpresumably on account of these cases being of a more serious nature. Having all regained dry ground, they proceed to dress themselves, and collect around the fires which have for some time been blazing near the water's edge. The welcome warmth of the fires is supplemented with plenty of uisgebeatha; and eatables of various kinds soon make their appearance. These they now proceed to discuss amid lively conversation, interspersed with many stories of former visits to the loch, and the marvellous cures which resulted.

The scene at this moment, as the midnight picnic begins, is a very weird and striking one.

becoming more discontented every day with my position, when chance threw in my way the book recording the Life of George Moore, the Napoleon of bagmen, and I at once yearned to tread in his footsteps, and see more of the world and its doings than I could ever hope to do in my then secluded position. I had an elder brother living in London, in the King's Road, Chelsea, and to him I communicated my desires and my ambition. He invited me to come to London, as presenting a better field for the promotion and attainment of my wishes. I therefore left Dublin as soon as circumstances would permit, and took up my abode in the King's Road, Chelsea. I diligently perused the advertisements in the daily papers; and in about a week after my arrival in London, came across the following: 'WANTED-A Traveller to journey between London and Vienna. A knowledge of

Unexcep- of your commission.
Address

German unnecessary. Liberal salary. tionable references given and required. C. R., Post-office, Charing Cross.' I wrote in reply, and stated my wishes and qualifications, giving my address at a neighbour's house. I received an answer in due course, requesting that I would be in front of the Times advertising office, in Queen Victoria Street, at seven P.M. on the following Monday. I kept the appointment in company with my brother, and paced up and down in front of the office for nearly an hour; but C. R. did not put in an appearance. Naturally, I felt much disappointed, and somewhat disgusted at this treatment. In two days I received a second letter, signed Charles Ross; but the letter itself was written in a different hand from the previous one. The gist of the letter was as follows. The writer expressed his regret that he had been unable to keep his appointment, in consequence of an unexpected summons to Birmingham on important business; but that he would this time meet me on the following Tuesday, in front of the Vestry Hall in the King's Road, Chelsea, as that road appeared to be my place of residence, and I should thus be put to as little trouble as possible. He requested that I would come alone.

The circumstances appeared somewhat suspicious, and to be enveloped in an element of unnecessary mystery. For a time, I felt disposed to ignore the communication altogether; but my brother persuaded me to probe the matter to the bottom, and said he would be a witness of the interview, but at a distance.

When the day arrived, I proceeded to the Vestry Hall; and after waiting a few minutes, was accosted by a man of gentlemanly appearance and address. He was fair in complexion, and his face was closely shaven. 'Mr Lewis, 'Mr Ross.' The introduction was complete. He proposed that we should adjourn to a more secluded place, where we could discuss the business in private. As we walked along the King's Road, he conversed on miscellaneous topics. Presently, we arrived at an open space where bricks and mortar encumbered the ground, and half-built houses stood around, looking ghastly in the fast gathering gloom of an autumnal evening. Then my companion faced me, and thus began: 'I wish you to convey a large quantity of valuable diamonds to Vienna. You will have to make three journeys, and take thirty thousand pounds-worth each time. I will give you one hundred pounds before you start on your first journey, and one hundred and fifty on your return. Two hundred ere you start on your second journey, and two hundred and fifty on your return. And three hundred on your return from your third and last journey. You will thus receive the sum of one thousand pounds for your trouble, which I think you will admit is a liberal recompense.'

I forgot to mention that you must not carry firearms, as that might arouse suspicion.'

In a dazed manner, I murmured: 'Whence come these diamonds?"

"They are stolen,' replied my companion with the most supreme sang-froid.

I resolved to temporise for a while. 'In what way should I transport them?'

See!' said my friend, unbuttoning his coat, and displaying a waistcoat, with broad stripes in the pattern. He pulled a string, and I beheld, where the stripes had been, lines or packages of tissue-paper, within which were secreted the costly gems. Should you divulge what I have told you,' he proceeded, 'your life would not be worth a week's purchase. Even now, we are watched by two confederates.'

I involuntarily felt grateful that I also had a friend who would report proceedings, if any violence were attempted. I

'Will you turn your head for a moment? wish to show you how speedily I can change my outward appearance.'

I complied, taking the precaution to stand as far away as possible from my mysterious friend. In a few seconds, he exclaimed: "You can now look this way.'

In place of my fair-complexioned, smoothshaven companion, I now saw a swarthy man, with a black beard and moustache, while by some mechanical change in the lapels of his coat his attire was completely different.

'Of course you run the risk of being captured with the stolen diamonds on your person, and for that risk we pay you on the liberal scale I have mentioned. But you are, I presume, completely unknown to the police, and if you proceed on your journey in a quiet, natural manner, the risk is infinitesimal.'

During this speech, I had made up my mind to assume compliance; otherwise, I felt convinced I should never leave that lonely place with life. I said I would attend to any communication, and do my best in the matter. We shook hands and parted, as he recommended that we should not be seen together more than necessary. I cordially agreed with him, and walked away at a rapid pace. I had mentally decided not to return to my proper home till after midnight, as I felt convinced I was under surveillance; so I entered the house of my friendly neighbour, and on some pretence, chatted with him till after midnight, when I crept back to my own house like a thief.

My brother strongly advised that I should leave London at once for several months, until the thieves had selected some fresh and more willing instrument for their nefarious designs. I am almost ashamed to confess that the terror of the vengeance of the desperate crew with whom I was so nearly associated, prevented me from giving information to the authorities. I Why left London the following morning by the early newspaper train, and remained in a quiet country village for several months, during which time My companion replied: "You have an honest I was informed that the house of my neighface; but I shall not trust you, nevertheless. bour, where I had taken refuge, was constantly You will never be lost sight of. One of my besieged by inquisitive beggars and persons colleagues will always be at hand. Your igno- inquiring for imaginary individuals. I chanced rance of German will prevent you from talking to come across a diamond merchant, to whom

·

I was petrified with astonishment. At length I ventured to gasp forth a few words: do you thus place implicit confidence in an entire stranger?'

Journal

I related the story. He said I should never have made more than one journey to Vienna. They would have paid me the first sum, and remitted the entire bulk at once, and then summarily dispensed with my services; so that, out of the first hundred pounds, I should have had to disburse the amount of my journey to Vienna and back with all the contingent expenses. But the offer of ten times that sum was intended as an overwhelming temptation, to which many hitherto honest men might succumb.

I had ceased to give attention to the subject, and was placidly pursuing my chosen duties as a commercial traveller, when the London public and the country in general were startled by a large robbery of diamonds from the Post-office in Hatton Garden. This was in April 1882. Then came the arrest of three men at Berlin, who were finally extradited by the English ambassador. On the first appearance of the thieves at a London police court, I made an effort to be present; and in the tallest of the three prisoners, I recognised the Knave of Diamonds, my old friend Charles Ross.

PRESERVED MILK.

WERE it necessary to endeavour to persuade the reader of the importance of milk as an article of food, we could not do better than refer him to writers upon the subject, who agree that its value cannot be over-estimated, inasmuch as 'it is capable of supporting animal life without any other food;' and as practical proof of the public belief in the statement, we would point to the glasses of milk seen now on all refreshment counters, being preferred by many to the stronger beverages sold at the same places. But this additional demand for the rich and nourishing fluid is sometimes difficult to meet. In the country, the supply at times runs short, on account of the extra demand from our large towns and cities. But this is not all. Very much milk is wasted, for it soon turns sour; and although even then it may be good for pigs, to humanity it is lost. The chief object of this paper is to throw some light upon the only substitute for fresh milk-namely, preserved or 'condensed milk,' which is not understood as it deserves to be; such objections to it being raised, as an excuse for its non-use, as: 'Surely it cannot contain all the constituent parts of milk.'-'Don't you think it is adulterated?'-'It is sold in tins, is it not, and it won't keep after it is once opened?'

It is expensive, I believe.'-'Do you think it is really nutritious?'-'I wonder whether they are clean and particular in the process of preserving it?'

Let us endeavour to answer some of these objections. First, then, as to condensed milk containing all the constituent parts of milk. How can it be otherwise, when the milk is taken straight from the cow, and, while still warm, put through the refrigerator-the first step in condensing? This being the case, it is not robbed of its cream; butter, consequently, is rather higher in price in the neighbourhood of a milk-factory, because it is less plentiful, the cream being in the milk which is sent to the factory.

With regard to its adulteration-our own manufacturers assure us upon the label on each tin, that only the purest sugar is used in preserving it; and as there is little or no sediment either before or after we boil it, their assurance seems sound.

Then as to its keeping the writer has kept it after it has been opened for three weeks, and even a month, and then it was pure and sweet, only a little dried by exposure to the air.

The question of expense needs but to be glanced at for us to see that condensed milk is the cheaper. A fivepenny or sixpenny (one pound) tin of preserved milk makes two quarts of good milk; and we know that fresh milk varies in price from fourpence to sixpence per quart. It makes excellent puddings, at the rate of half a one-pound tin to a quart of water; and for infants' food, directions are given with each tin.

Last, but not least, the cleanliness of its manufacture, of which we are assured by a recent visit to one of our milk-factories. We enter the great stone yard, and are shown the lifts which convey the cans of milk up into the loft, where they are weighed and their contents passed on; the empty cans being returned in similar manner. That these cans are clean we may be sure, for the farmer takes care of that for his own sake, as no milk would be accepted at the factory which was not pure; and pure it was perfectly clean.

it could not be unless the can which contained

Now we follow our guide into a large room with a pavement floor. Here there are large baths of cold fresh water, in which the cans of condensed milk float until they are to be removed to fill the little cans which are being prepared for the milk. Here a continual stream of cold water keeps everything cool and clean; but of course we have no desire to remain long, as the paved flooring is overflowing with water, and the atmosphere is such as would render a prolonged stay more enjoyable when the thermometer stands at ninety in the shade rather than when it registers forty-five; so we pass on to see the making of the little cans. Here is a machine for cutting the tin into the required lengths, after it has been well wiped on both sides with a clean cloth; and there is one for cutting out the circles for the tops and bottoms. The sheet of tin is scarcely touched with the hand, the machine cutting out and at the same time throwing the shining circlets into a basket, which when full is carried into the solderingroom. Here they are put together, pressed into shape, and soldered by machinery, passing so quickly before our eyes that we are dazzled by the bright flashes of the tins. Next, they are tested, each one separately, to see if they are air-tight. If not, they are sent by the examiner to the 'repairing-room' to be made so. They are then carried by boys, on wooden trays, to the filling-room,' where the women sit, each with a large bright canister before her, having a tap, which she turns, holding the tin can to receive the creamy fluid. These cans are filled with great rapidity, and are then carried away on the wooden trays, to be finally soldered; thence to the labelling department; and lastly, to the packing-room, to be put up in paper and boxes

for travelling, large quantities of this milk being

sent abroad.

To our question as to the return of empty tins, we are told ‘it would never do; we should not know into whose hands they had been; and it would not be worth our while. As it is, we can answer for the purity of everything. We commence with the raw materials, as you have seen, even to the timber of which our packingcases are made, which you shall see, if you

like.'

We do like; and are soon watching the intricacies of cutting the slabs of wood into the required lengths for bottoms, sides, and tops or lids. But our interest is at its height when we see the great machine gently, and almost noiselessly, drive in a row of nails at once, so that with one or two turns the box is strongly made. After it is filled with tins of milk, it comes back once more, to have the lid nailed on, and is complete.

THE MONTH:

SCIENCE AND ARTS

THE meeting of the British Association at Aberdeen has proved to be in every respect a great success. The subjects discussed have been in point of general interest up to the average, and the meeting has fulfilled one of its most important uses, in giving to the public an epitome of the work done by various brainworkers during the past twelve months. Those who have not the leisure or opportunity of studying the Proceedings' of our various learned societies are able, by means of the published abstracts of papers brought before this annual gathering, to learn the progress that is being made in the chief fields of research, and every reader is likely to find more than one subject in which he can take an interest. Even the utilitarian mind which has no patience with the term 'original research' unless it bears immediate commercial fruit, must acknowledge that the Association deals with matters of a highly practical and valuable nature.

In Mr W. H. Preece's paper on the Strength of Telegraph Poles, the curious fact came to light, that for the past thirty years our telegraph engineers have been misled by the textbooks in imagining that fir-poles had about double the strength which they really possess. A series of careful experiments has lately shown this to be the case, and as a consequence, stronger trees are now selected for supporting the wires. Another question dealt with by the energetic electrician to the General Post-office related to the relative merits of iron and copper wire for telegraphic purposes. A wire two hundred and seventy-eight miles long has recently been erected for experiment between Newcastle and London. This wire weighs one hundred pounds to the mile against four hundred pounds-the weight of the thicker iron wire generally used-the cost of each being about the same. The copper wire shows a decided superiority in speed of working, the relative figures being as follows: In simplex working the copper will transmit four hundred and fourteen words per minute, against three hundred and forty-five words for iron; and in

duplex working, copper two hundred and seventy, and iron two hundred and thirty-seven, words per minute. It is also proved that copper is by far the better conductor for telephonic purposes. With reference to the improvement that has been made in the rate of working the Wheatstone automatic apparatus, Mr Preece stated that whereas in 1877 the speed was eighty words per minute, it has now reached the extraordinary rate of four hundred and thirty words per minute.

some

Professor W. L. Macadam, in the course of an interesting paper on the Diatomaceous Deposits in Aberdeenshire, stated that last season hundreds of tons of this earth had been employed by Messrs Nobel in the manufacture of dynamite-dynamite being, as our readers will remember, simply a porous earth moistened with nitroglycerine. A great future was anticipated for the district where the deposit occurs; but the industry was doomed, owing to the discovery of a far more powerful explosive in blastinggelatine.

Professor M'Kendrick's paper on the Action of Cold upon Microphytes gave an account of some experiments made with a machine specially constructed for the purpose. Putrescible substances in hermetically sealed vessels were exposed for some hours to an extremely low temperature, after which they were allowed to thaw, and were kept for some time in a warm room. The substances were afterwards submitted to the searching eye of the microscope. As a result it was found that organic fluids may be exposed to a temperature of one hundred and twenty degrees below zero (Fahrenheit) for at least one hundred hours; but after being kept in a higher temperature of about eighty degrees, fermentation and putrefaction will go on in the ordinary way. Thus the hope of any practical result from sterilisation by cold is destroyed. The important point in these experiments is the certainty that fresh meat cannot be tinned and exported, as cooked meat is.

In drawing attention to the neglect of the antarctic region as a field for exploration, Admiral Sir Erasmus Ommanney gave a summary of what had already been learned regarding that far-off region, from which he thinks we may infer that the South Pole is capped by an eternal glacier. He advocates the formation of an expedition which should pass a winter in the antarctic zone, so that the conditions and phenomena may be compared with what we know about the arctic regions.

The paper upon that all-important subject Casu alties at Sea was chiefly valuable for the interesting discussion which it raised. Sir James Douglass, in giving his opinion upon ships' lights as a protection against collision, considered that all such indications were only available for a short distance. What is wanted is some plain system of signalling which shall be visible for two or three miles. He wondered why no more effective alarm than a whistle was in common use, and would have a steamer use all her boiler-power in sounding a fog-horn, which should be heard for a distance of two or three miles in any weather. Incidentally it was stated that a new system of buoys had been practically arranged, and that very soon they would bear one universal language.

Journal

Want of space unfortunately prevents us giving even a brief account of many other papers brought before the British Association at its recent meeting; but we cannot refrain from pointing out the extreme interest attaching to Mr Thurn's account of his recent ascent of Mount Roraima, and still more so to Sir John Lubbock's recent researches into the ways of his humble friends the ants and bees.

It is a well-known fact that in warfare, for every bullet which finds its billet, many hundreds are fired away which do no harm to anybody. As a case in point, we may mention the circumstance that in three months of his weary captivity at Khartoum, General Gordon's troops fired away half a million cartridges without making any sensible diminution in the number of their opponents. One of the chief reasons of this waste of powder and shot is the difficulty of judging distance and correctly adjusting the rifle so that it may be elevated to the required pitch. The same difficulty holds good of course with reference to artillery, and until they get the range,' artillerymen cannot hope for much result from their work. With the view of meeting this difficulty, many so-called rangefinders have been invented, some of them of a most complicated and cumbersome_description. Two, however, have lately been introduced, one of British and the other of German origin, which present such advantages in portability and ease of working that they are likely to supersede all others; but which is the better of the two in practice, remains to be proved.

and use; but we are inclined to favour the British one, as it in no way depends upon the action of the enemy.

The sudden appearance of a new star in the Andromeda nebula represents one of those marvels of the heavens which even the cleverest astronomers can tell us very little about. The spectroscope has decided that the star is within the star-cloud, and there our knowledge of it comes to an end. The strange appearance will serve to remind the thoughtful once more of the extreme littleness of our globe when compared with the vast range of the universe; for we are reminded that although this star only became apparent just now, the event, whatever it be, happened probably more than a century ago; at least, it is estimated that the star is situated at such a distance from us, that its light travelling at about one hundred and eighty thousand miles a second, would take such a period of time to reach this earth.

Fresh subsidences in the salt districts of Cheshire, owing to the constant dissolution of the rock-salt below by the pumping out of brine, have given rise to the erroneous idea that through the cracked earth the salt deposits may become contaminated with sewage. That such a thing can hardly occur will be acknowledged when it is remembered that the earth through which such matter must percolate will act as a filter and purifier. But even if any germs did find their way to the salt, they must be destroyed by the heat that is used subsequently to drive off the water by evaporation, before the product is ready for market. It is too much the fashion in these days to discover lurking sanitary dangers where none exists.

The Weldon Range-finder is a little instrument the size of a watch, containing two prisms cut at different angles, and it is used in the following manner: The observer brings first one prism to In a German technical paper, Herr Emmerig his eye, and observes in it the reflected object asserts that from careful observations he has made whose distance from him he is desirous of ascer- he is convinced that bees give warning of an taining. He projects this object upon some other approaching thunderstorm. Bees that are geneobject in the distant landscape, and makes a rally quiet and harmless will on such occasions mental note of their apparent conjunction. Then become excited and irritable, attacking any one presenting the other prism to the object in the who approaches the hive, even if it be their usual same way, he notes that the two images will attendant and familiar friend. Sometimes he has not come into the same place unless he moves observed that when the barometer and hygrometer his position-it may be some yards ahead. When this is done, the distance he has paced is taken as a Base line, which, multiplied by fifty, will give the solution of the problem desired. This instrument has been adopted by the War depart

ment.

The other Range-finder to which we call attention is the Telemeter of Lieutenant von Ehrenberg, which is so far like that just described in being of the size of a watch, but is unlike it in every other respect. It depends for its efficiency not upon the sense of sight, but upon hearing, and is based upon the wellknown circumstance, that sound takes a definite time to travel through the air, averaging three hundred and sixty yards per second. In practice, the observer notes the flash of a gun from the enemy's lines, upon which he depresses a knob on the instrument, which causes its finger to travel round the dial. When the sound of the discharge reaches his ear a few seconds later, another touch stops the hand. A glance at the dial then indicates exactly the distance which the sound-wave has travelled. It will be seen that both these instruments are simple in design

have foretold a coming storm, the bees have remained perfectly quiet, and no storm has come. On the other hand, the bees have often foretold by their behaviour the approach of a storm which has subsequently arrived, when the instruments have afforded no indication of it.

A house containing in one of its upper rooms a quantity of old iron, was recently struck by lightning at Neufchatel, Switzerland, and burned to the ground. An account of the occurrence was brought before the French Academy of Science, and it was suggested that the metal in the house attracted the lightning. M. Calladon, in refusing to accept this explanation, said that there was no truth in the popular supposition that a building with a metal roof, or with metal in its construction, was more liable to lightningstroke than other buildings, provided that the metal were not in direct communication with the earth. But he suggested that the presence of the iron in the house referred to had very likely led to its destruction by fire. For it is well known that any combustible substance placed between two conducting surfaces-and in this case the mass of iron and the humid atmosphere outside

« PreviousContinue »