‘Sorry I can’t trade to-day,’ I replied, as I jumped into the train.
I saw no more of the man, for though he alighted at the same town as I did, he sidled his way through the crowd, making determined attempts, one would have thought, to gouge eyes out in all directions with his ‘bootiful ’orns.’ I saw no more of the man, but strange to say I did of the ‘’orns’ that same evening. They had been sold to a friend of mine for just five times their value. They had never come from Africa, of course; the larger pair had at one time probably adorned the head of some Highland bull. The others were probably English.
I do not believe this mean-looking man had polished those horns himself. He looked far too lazy for that; but in justice to the ’orns, if not to the man, I must say they were very well done indeed, and would have made, as he said, ‘quite a hornament for any gentleman’s ’all.’
There is no end to the beautiful articles that can be manufactured from hoof or horn. Stuffed heads with the horns polished look very nice on the walls of rooms or in halls. I was in the drawing-room of a Highland cattle-breeder of fame the other day, and was both surprised and delighted to find on the walls, in recesses and places where there was room, not only the horns but heads, with necks and a portion of the brisket attached, of old favourites looking at me.
A ram’s head, with the crooked horns attached, makes a beautiful snuff-box. The box itself lies between the horns—or rather in the forehead—and is of silver, the lid usually adorned with a gigantic cairn-gorm. My Scotch readers know the sort of thing I mean.
But here we are again with another snuff-horn, more cheaply manufactured too. You simply get a shortish cow-horn and beautifully polish it; then another round flat piece of polished horn to form the lid. To this is attached, by means of silver nails, a piece of cork big enough to fit nicely into the mouth of the horn, and not more than an eighth of an inch thick. Then the lid is complete, and any watchmaker will hinge it on for you. Get also a little heart-shaped bit of silver, let into either the lid or the back of the horn, with the initials of the giver and the givee, thus: ‘From A. H. to W. H.’
Still another—a horse’s hoof. And there are many, many more which I do not at present remember, and need not enumerate if I did. But if you wish to see the many lovely articles that can be manufactured from polished horn, I prithee station thyself for a few brief moments anent a good jeweller’s window in any large city or town in the kingdom, and keep your weather-eye lifting.
Have you ever heard the Latin proverb, Aut Cæsar aut nullus? The English translate it, or paraphrase it, ‘Neck or nothing.’ I have heard a Scotchman speak of a boy in the following terms, which embody the same sentiment: ‘That boy will either make a spoon or spoil a horn.’
Now, then, if you are going to try your hand at horn-polishing, you must please bear that motto in mind, ‘Aut Cæsar aut nullus.’ You must either make a spoon or spoil a horn. But as horns are very cheap in the rough, it does not matter much if you do spoil one or two. Only this sort of work requires patience—and not only patience, but a deal of hard rubbing and much expenditure of elbow-grease.
Well, get your horns first. Where? you ask. You may go to your butcher and explain what you want, and he will tell you that the horns are sawn off with the hide and sent to the tanner’s thus. But if he be a civil man, as most butchers are, he will keep a pair for you, and he will probably knock them off, not saw them, so that you will be at once free from the awkward piece of bone that runs up the first portion of the centre; otherwise you would have to get this taken out.