HÄNSCHEN VON MÖNKGUT.
Translated into English, the name of this bright-faced fisher-boy is "Little Jack." Mönkgut is a barren peninsula forming the southeastern extremity of Rügen, an island off the coast of Prussia, in the Baltic Sea.
The Mönkgutes, as the inhabitants of the wild and comfortless strip of land call themselves, are distinguished by many original traits in dress, customs, and language. They are a peculiar race, opposing anything new that comes to them from the outside world, and clinging stubbornly to the ways and manners of their ancestors.
Yet these people have kind hearts, and many of the boys and girls who lead constrained lives in our great cities might well envy the freedom and fun enjoyed by Little Jack as he roams up and down the shore, gathering shells, and playing hide-and-seek with the snow-capped waves.
One of these days, when he grows up, he will without doubt be a sailor or a fisherman, as all his forefathers have been. Even now he is all equipped, with his home-spun vest and wide hat tied so closely under his chin. Presently he will be permitted to help his father with an oar, and then the time will come when he himself will command some brave boat as it rides out over the billows.
[THE INVENTION OF THE STOCKING-LOOM.]
Nearly two hundred years ago, when Queen Elizabeth was seated on the throne of England, there lived in the quiet little village of Woodborough, in Nottinghamshire, a modest, earnest, thoughtful boy called William Lee. So great was his love for study and for reading of almost any kind that, after finishing school, his parents sent him to Cambridge.
One day, while out for a walk, William saw a young girl sitting at a cottage door knitting a stocking. Very soon he made her acquaintance, and during the visits he paid her he would read aloud while she plied her knitting-needles. When tired of reading, William frequently suggested a ramble in the fields, but Nellie nearly always refused, giving as her reason that her work must be attended to, and that she dare not lay it aside for pleasure. Of course her lover admired her industry, but he could not help wondering if some means could not be discovered by which stockings might be made more quickly.
In time William became a clergyman, and he married Nellie. But his income was very small, and they had to save in every possible way. Nellie saw with pain the care-worn look on his brow; she knew too well why it had settled there. At length a happy thought flashed across her mind—she would send for her knitting-needles, and begin her stocking-knitting again. She knew there would be no difficulty in selling any number of stockings she might make. Her needles moved so quickly that before long the amount of work completed was sufficient to offer for sale.
As William sat watching his wife's needles, he carefully observed how the loops were made, and how the same thread travelled round and round the stocking, forming a new loop every time it passed through an old one. As he watched Nellie's fingers, the idea gradually dawned upon him how a machine might be invented to do the work instead; and after much planning he succeeded in making the small model of a knitting-frame. Delighted with his success, he went to London, where, after much difficulty, he gained access to Lord Hunsdon, one of the Queen's ministers, who informed Queen Elizabeth that a poor parson he knew had a wonderful machine for making stockings, which he wanted her Majesty to inspect. The Queen refused the patent because the machine only made woollen stockings.
William was very much disappointed, but he resolved nevertheless to carry out his plans. For seven or eight years he patiently worked away, improving his machine, until at length he completed a frame delicate enough for silk work. With this he made a pair of silk stockings, which he forthwith forwarded to the Queen. Elizabeth praised their beauty and elasticity, but gave him nothing for them.
As the time passed on, William's expenses increased, and although he had made considerable money, it had been necessary to spend so much on his machines that very little profit remained. The sale, too, of the woven stockings was hindered by popular prejudice, and, added to all this, his friend at court was dead.
At this crisis, Lee's stocking-loom, which was being discussed far and wide, became an object of interest to Henry IV. of France, who sent William an invitation to remove to that country. Thither the inventor went, hoping great things from royal patronage, and taking with him a few workmen, set up his machinery at Rouen. For a short time he carried on a brisk, thriving trade, and began to indulge the belief that his last days would be his brightest, when suddenly his hopes were crushed by the assassination of Henry by Ravaillac. This sad event put an end to the success of William. The French people regarded him with suspicion both as a Protestant and as an Englishman, and after wandering about from place to place, he died, broken-hearted and almost starving, in Paris.
To-day, machine-made stockings are worn by the people of all civilized countries, and thousands upon thousands of dollars are made by their manufacture.
AT ODDS.