Among a number of instances of the celebrated Dr. Moncey's absence of mind, is one which he frequently mentioned, and laughed at heartily, when in good humour, at the same time observing that his brother was as bad as himself. The doctor being once on a visit to his brother, in Norfolk, in the beginning of winter, and intending to set off for London the next day, his brother proposed to go and shoot wild ducks early in the morning, that he might carry two or three couple fresh killed to London with him. The servant was ordered to clean the long fowling piece, get plenty of powder and shot, and to goose-grease their boots. Every thing being in readiness according to their desire, about an hour before day-light the doctor and his brother set off for the place where the ducks resort, in order to be there by the break of day, when they generally take wing to go to feed. They had walked nearly three miles, and it having rained in the night, the clay mud wall was very dirty and greasy, when they heard the cry of the ducks. They were now obliged to get over the wall and the gate, across a sluice into the marsh where the ducks were. The rain had raised the water about a foot. It was then proposed that one should go over, and the other remain behind. Says the doctor, "George, do you go over, for I have forgotten my boots." "So have I doctor," says his brother; "but we wont lose our sport, as we have come so far." So both waded through, and got over the gate into the marsh, and advancing along the fleet, they at length perceived the ducks. "You are near enough, George," said the doctor.—"Aye," replied George, "I think we are not above a hundred yards off." "Why then fire," says the doctor.—"Do you fire," returned George. "Why I hav'nt got the gun; do you fire." "I fire! why I have not got the gun," said his brother, "I thought you had it. What a fine opportunity is lost. Here are not less than thirty ducks within shot, and neither of us have got the gun."
LIFE-PRESERVER.
The following simple method of rescuing drowning persons from a watery grave, is contained in a long article on that subject, in a late Liverpool paper, and is deserving of attention. The writer says:
If any one estimate inventions in the inverse ratio of their simplicity, they will smile to hear that the life-preserver which I have so highly extolled, is no more than a hat and pocket handerchief;[5] so that every man has, at all times, about his person an apparatus which may be the means of saving the life of his fellow creature.
With these simple means any man who can swim may safely venture into the water, with the certainty of rescuing a drowning person. All the preparation, which need not occupy ten seconds, is this: Spread the handkerchief out on the ground, and place the hat upon it in the centre, with the crown upwards, in the ordinary position of wearing; then gather up the four corners of the handerchief over the crown of the hat, giving it a few twists for the greater convenience of grasping with the hand. The hat must then be inverted, (the crown downwards.) In this position, it is confidently asserted, any person may safely enter the water, as the cavity of the hat contains, a much greater quantity of air than is requisite to sustain any man. I found that the hat with which I tried the experiment, would almost support me and another person clinging to me, neither of us making the least effort to float by any motion of the hands and feet. The mode I should adopt, however, in using the life-preserver, would be to give up the handkerchief to the person whose life was in danger, and immediately to disengage myself from him. He would soon discover that he was buoyed up, and would recover his presence of mind; but, whether he did or not, it would be of little consequence, as long as he retained his grasp of the handkerchief. Whilst he was thus supported, nothing could be more easy than to push him to the shore with one hand, swimming with the other.
JOHN O'GROAT'S HOUSE.
The place so denominated is still a land-mark, although the house has long fallen to decay; so totally so that not a vestige remains; but the scite is an object of curiosity to travellers, for the singularity of the building, which tradition has preserved the form of, and the motive for its erection. In the reign of James the VIth of Scotland, (James the Ist of England,) two brothers, named Malcomb Gavin, and John O'Groat, arrived in Caithness from Holland, and it is said brought letters from the King. They purchased or possessed themselves of the lands of Warse and Duningsbay, lying near the Portland Hills. They increased in course of time to eight families: here they lived peaceably and comfortably for many years, and held an annual feast to commemorate the landing of their ancestors. Could it be supposed that any petty distinctions should have a tendency to interrupt the family harmony? but so it was. Each head of the families contended for the seniority and chieftainship of the clan. The ingenuity of one (a John O'Groat) settled the dispute for precedency, which arose upon the importance of sitting at the head of the table, and the right of entering first in at the door! John occupied a ferry, and his daily intercourse with strangers had enlarged his ideas: he expostulated with his clan on the folly of their pretensions, and represented, that quarrels amongst themselves would render them obnoxious to the people where they had settled. John's reasoning prevailed, and they agreed to be guided by him: in due time he fulfilled his plan to reconcile their discordant ideas. He built a very large room in an octagon form, with eight doors and eight windows in it; in this room he placed a massy oak table with eight sides. At the next anniversary meeting, he requested each head of the families to enter at the door most convenient to their dwelling at the same moment; he then took the unoccupied seat. The scite, as has been observed, is still celebrated, and will be so, whilst good intentions, and a plain useful understanding, are considered estimable qualities. Fully to appreciate this, we should recollect the deadly feuds which frequently arose in Scotland in former days, even on less grounds than precedency.