Thousands of American tourists, while in London, stand reverentially beside the grave of Oliver Goldsmith in the old burial ground of the Temple, or curiously examine the room in Wine Office Court in which he wrote the “Vicar of Wakefield.” But how many of all these thousands have ever visited the locale of the “Deserted Village?” Lissoy, the Auburn of the poet, is on the road that runs from Athlone to Ballymahon, not more than fifty or sixty miles west of Dublin, yet there is nothing in Westmeath to attract strangers. The general impression is that when the “one only master,” General Napier, grasped the whole domain, and dispossessed and removed the cottiers to make room for his projected improvements, the village was dismantled and effaced. It is said, however, that a descendant of General Napier afterwards did something in the way of restoration. Be this as it may, the ruined walls of the alehouse, the “busy mill,” and the “decent church” on the hill are still standing.
Importance of Punctuation
The dowager Czarina is a great favorite in Russia. Among other stories illustrating her character is this: She saw on her husband’s table a document regarding a political prisoner. On the margin Alexander III. had written, “Pardon impossible; to be sent to Siberia.” The Czarina took up the pen and, striking out the semicolon after “impossible,” put it before the word. Then the indorsement read, “Pardon; impossible to be sent to Siberia.” The Czar let it stand.
Bottled Tears
In Persia the past and the present are linked by the belief that human tears are a remedy for certain chronic diseases. At every funeral the bottling of mourners’ tears forms a prominent feature of the ceremonies. Every mourner is presented with a sponge with which to mop off the cheeks and eyes, and after the burial the moistened sponges are presented to the priest who squeezes the tears into bottles which he keeps for curative purposes. This is one of the most ancient of the Eastern customs; it is referred to in the eighth verse of the fifty-sixth Psalm, where David says, “put thou my tears into thy bottle;” and according to the testimony of a physician recently returned from a visit to Persia, the custom is still practised by the Persians as it was thousands of years ago.
As you read it
It is said that a professed atheist once had a motto on one of his walls bearing the words “God is Nowhere.” His little daughter, just beginning to read, came into the room and began to spell, “G-o-d God, I-s Is, N-o-w Now, H-e-r-e Here—God is now here.” The father was at once aroused and excited. We do not ask which was right, but notice that the meaning depends on how you read, and the possible meanings are as opposite as the poles.
A Story of Witchcraft
When Lord Chief Justice Holt presided in the Court of King’s Bench (1690), a poor decrepit old woman was brought before him charged with witchcraft. “What is the proof?” asked his lordship. “She has a powerful spell,” answered the prosecutor. “Let me see it.” The “spell” was handed up to the bench. It proved to be a small ball of variously colored rags of silk, bound with threads of as many different hues. These were unwound and unfolded, until there was revealed a scrap of parchment, on which were written certain characters now nearly illegible from constant use. “Is this the spell?” asked the judge. The prosecutor replied that it was. After attentive scrutiny of the charm, the judge, turning to the old creature, said, “Prisoner, how came you by this?” “A young gentleman, my lord, gave it to me to cure my child’s ague.” “How long since?” “Thirty years, my lord.” “And did it cure the child?” “Oh, yes, sir; and many others.” “I am glad of it.” The judge paused a few moments, and then addressed the jury as follows: “Gentlemen of the jury, thirty years ago, I and some companions, as thoughtless as myself, went to this woman’s place, then a public house, and, after enjoying ourselves, found we had no means to discharge the reckoning. I had recourse to a stratagem. Observing a child ill of an ague, I pretended I had a spell to cure her. I wrote the classic line you see on that scrap of parchment, and was discharged of the demand on me by the gratitude of the poor woman before us for the supposed benefit.”