"Show no mercy to the Police; they have few Friends."
Routledge's Atlas of the World is not a short biography of Mr. Edmund Yates, but a pocketable (if you've got the opportunity) volume, with sixteen coloured maps. It is pleasant to see that, though the Atlas bears the imprimatur of Routledge, the name of Ayr is not effaced from the Map of Scotland. True that Ayrshire is coloured green, but Ayr is quite outside this, in fact it has got outside the coast-line, and is represented as being quite out at sea. More in this than meets the eye.
BASTA, FASTER!
Tuesday.—The fifty-sixth day of Signor Dontucci's sixty days fast was completed to-day. The Italian who, on the first day, weighed 140 lbs., has lost 100 lbs. up to the present, but he seems as confident and cheerful as ever.
A somewhat disagreeable incident marred the harmony of yesterday's proceedings. A boy, who was looking on, happened to drop half a penny bun in the vicinity of the Signor, who reached towards it, and having managed, after some struggles, which created much amusement amongst the onlookers, to pick it up, was about to convey it to his mouth. He would no doubt have eaten it if the senior member of the Medical Committee, appointed to watch the proceedings, had not interfered. The fragment was removed, and it was pointed out to Dontucci that such an act on his part was unfair not only to himself, but to the large number of sportsmen who had made bets on the event.
Wednesday.—The fifty-seventh day of this marvellous feat was signalised by the appearance of four of the Italian's rib-bones, both his collar-bones, and one shin-bone. The Medical Committee treat this as a comparatively unimportant development of the fast, but to the outside public, who swarm to the exhibition, the Signor presents a decidedly dilapidated and ludicrous appearance. He has lost eight pounds more since yesterday. It was somewhat comical to watch him eyeing a stout young nurserymaid, who had brought a plump baby with her. Such cannibalistic desires show that our boasted civilisation is, after all, only skin deep.
Saturday.—An immense crowd had assembled to watch the completion of the great fast. As the hour approached bets were freely hazarded on the result, odds of five to four on the Signor's survival finding a ready market. Much amusement was created by a feeble murmur from Dontucci, in which he was understood to declare that he was starving, one well-known patron of sport asking him, jocularly, if the smell of a beefsteak would do him any good. On the first stroke of two o'clock an enthusiastic shout rent the air, and a body of sympathisers insisted on carrying the Italian shoulder-high through the building and the adjacent streets in procession. We regret to say that, under their well-intentioned, but not very gentle handling, Dontucci suffered severely. Should he succumb to this comparatively rough treatment it will be a matter of regret, as his contribution to scientific knowledge is considerable. From his condition at the end of the fast, it may be now accepted as a fact, that a man who never eats must ultimately die of starvation.