Not infrequently has the Table urged upon its readers the desirability of good penmanship and careful selection of words in letter-writing. Here are three stories, all vouched for as true, which emphasize the points anew:
A Cincinnati grocer's house found that cranberries had risen to $6 per bushel. The purchasing clerk immediately sent this note by the firm's teamster, "One hundred bushels per Simmons." (Simmons was the driver's name.) The well-meaning correspondent thought the scrawl read, "One hundred bushels persimmons," and boys were straightway set to work, for persimmons were plentiful. The wagon made its appearance next day loaded down with eighty bushels. The remaining twenty bushels were to follow next day, and when the correspondent found out his mistake he angrily demanded why the order did not read by Simmons?
A New England clergyman wrote a letter to the General Court. The clerk came to a sentence which he read, "I address you not as magistrates, but as Indian devils." The Court was wroth until the "Indian devils" were found to be "individuals."
An English gentleman, in writing to a Lincolnshire friend, mentioned the latter's kindness to him, and said he should soon send him a suitable "equivalent." The friend read the word "elephant," and immediately built a handsome barn for the reception of his elephantine majesty. But much to his surprise a barrel of oysters was the "equivalent."
Minimized Writing.
Mention was made in the Table, not long since, of the microscopic ring presented to Queen Elizabeth, consisting of a silver penny on which Bales "put more things than would fill several duodecimo pages." For a long time, Pliny's remark that Cicero had once seen Homer's Iliad in a nutshell was considered an exaggeration, at least. But an old French writer named Huet proves the statement to be true. A sheet of sheep-skin 10x8 can be neatly folded up so as to fit the shell of a large walnut. In its breadth the strip will contain one line of thirty verses, and in its length, 250 lines. Each side of the page would, then, contain 7500 verses, or the whole of the Iliad! Huet proved this fact in the presence of the Dauphin, using a sheet of paper and a crow-quill pen.
In the library of St. John's College, Oxford, is a head of Charles I. made up of minute lines of script which at a little distance resemble common engraving lines. The lines of the head and ruff form the Psalms, the Creed, and the Lord's Prayer. There is a portrait of Queen Anne in the British Museum "not much above the size of the hand." This drawing, too, is made up of microscopic lines and scratches which form the contents of an entire folio!
Elizabeth's silver penny ring was surpassed by the farthing of Peter Almunus, an Italian monk. On the coin were engrossed the Acts of the Apostles and the Gospel according to St. John. Another example of microscopic writing was presented to Elizabeth in the shape of a piece of parchment the size of a finger, containing the Decalogue, the Creed, the Lord's Prayer, the name of the giver, and the date. A pair of spectacles accompanied this Lilliputian manuscript.
Ælian tells us of an artist who wrote a "distich in letters of gold, which he enclosed in the rind of a grain of corn," while Menage writes of microscopic sentences, pictures, and portraits. He mentions reading an Italian poem in praise of the Princess, "written by an officer in the space of a foot and a half."