When Dr Leach, medical officer on board the Dreadnought, called public attention in 1866 to the recent appearance of scurvy in merchant-ships, he induced the Board of Trade to take up the matter seriously. This led to the passing of an Act in 1867, ordering the provision of lime-juice or lemon-juice in every merchant and passenger ship, and its use every day by every person on board. It is, however, known that lemon-juice is not so effective as lime-juice as an anti-scorbutic; and that, moreover, the best lime-juice does not require to be 'fortified' with ten or fifteen per cent. of alcohol to preserve it, which appears to be necessary for lemon-juice and inferior lime-juice. In the navy more strictness is observed. Lime-juice only is permitted; it must be prepared from ripe sound fruit, gathered in particular months of the year; and must bear analytical tests touching its citricity, flavour, and condition. As a consequence, scurvy is now almost unknown in the royal navy, except in the case of the recent Arctic Expedition, the particulars of which will no doubt be fully investigated and set forth by the Admiralty Committee duly appointed for that purpose. The navy is, we believe, supplied invariably with the best lime-juice only, to the exclusion of lemon-juice, and also to the exclusion of such juice of the real lime as requires, on account of its poorness of quality, to be fortified or 'doctored' with strong crude spirit. Very likely, in this as in so many other instances, cheapness is at the bottom of the whole affair: mercantile lemon-juice (even if called by the name of the lime) being cheaper than navy lime-juice. If so, it affords a sad instance of the misuse of the good word economy; for it certainly is not economical to imperil the health of the crews in trading-ships, and of passengers in emigrant-ships, by the use of that which is 'cheap and nasty.' Something there is in the common juice which renders it very unpalatable to the men, who often shirk their prescribed dose unless strictly watched. Let us hope that the Report of the Arctic Committee will strengthen the hands of the Board of Trade to deal with this matter.
[AFFECTION IN BIRD-LIFE.]
A correspondent having read our recent article on Bird-affection, kindly sends us the following singular instance of intelligence and affection on the part of a duck. 'We have,' he tells us, 'two white ducks; the one designated Mr Yellowbill being wonderfully intelligent, yet fond of fun. My little son and he have great games together. The lad throws out an india-rubber ball a longer or shorter distance, leaving it for the bird to decide whether it shall be pursued with a flying or a running movement. In either case, the ball is swiftly seized by duckie, and returned to the thrower, who keeps up the game until both have had enough of it. Another peculiarity of Mr Yellowbill may be mentioned. At the splashing of water from an adjacent well he is aroused, and will instantly fly towards the scene of action, plunge in, bathe, jump out, flap his wings joyfully, and "like a bird," take himself off again. But the story of affection for his kind must now be told. The other day, when swinging on a gate, my little boy felt something tugging at his trousers, and on looking round discovered the duck, who, he supposed, invited him to a game at ball. So down he got, and caressed his feathered friend as the preliminary. The duck, however, continued pulling away in so unusual and persistent a manner that the lad decided to go whither he was led; and lo! at the corner of an outbuilding was found poor Mrs Yellowbill, lame of a leg and quite unable to waddle along. Meanwhile her husband continued to manifest the greatest concern about her, yet did not forget his manners and grateful acknowledgments, but bowed and better bowed to those around who had now come to the rescue; shewing that even a duck may act and feel as a gentleman. The cause of hurt referred to has not been ascertained; but happily Mrs Yellowbill is now quite well, and her husband is as lively as ever.'
[LENACHLUTEN,]
A WATERFALL IN ARGYLESHIRE.
'Mong crags where the purple heather grows,
'Mid rocks where blooms the mountain rose,
Onward the river calmly flows
To Lenachluten.
The waters dash on the rocks beneath
In a mad wild rush, they surge and seethe,
While dancing spray with a snowy wreath
Crowns Lenachluten.
Thus ever the stream of life flows on,
With faces happy and faces wan,
A moment here on this earth, then gone,
Like Lenachluten.