Chatterbox, 1905.

V >> Various >> Chatterbox, 1905.

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The bow-legged fisherman did not finish his speech, but nodded his head,
and raised his hands in horror, as if words were too weak to express the
real character of the skipper. Naturally, Charlie became more anxious
than ever to make a trip on the _Sparrow-hawk_.

'Can't I get a job on her?' he asked.

'No, sir. All the same hands are taken on for the next trip.'

'Couldn't I bribe one of them to stay away, and let me go aboard in his
place?'

'Pretending that you are he?'

'Yes.'

''Course you could. Take my place, sir.'

'I am afraid that is not possible,' Charlie remarked, thinking of the
fisherman's bow legs and goatee beard.

'Why not? It isn't hard to pretend you are bandy-legged. Lots of boys
pretend they are bandy-legged when they see me coming.'

'It would be rather tiring to have to continue the pretence for two or
three weeks. Moreover, I haven't a beard.'

'You could say you had shaved it off.'

'That would mean that I should have to shave nothing every morning, just
to keep up the deception. If I didn't, the crew would wonder why my
beard didn't grow. But, joking apart, I am very anxious to make a trip
in the _Sparrow-hawk_, and if you, at the last moment, will pretend that
you are too ill to go aboard, and will send me as a substitute, I will
pay you your wages, and give you a present as well.'

'I agree, sir,' the fisherman declared, promptly.

'When does the _Sparrow-hawk_ sail?' Charlie asked.

'In two days' time.'

'Then I must buy my outfit to-morrow. Where shall I meet you to-morrow
afternoon?'

'At the Fishermen's Home, sir.'

'Very well. I will be there at four o'clock, and here is
half-a-sovereign for you, to show that I am in earnest.'

'Thank you, sir,' the fisherman exclaimed, and departed, more than ever
convinced that journalists were the most generous fellows in the world.

(_Continued on page 198._)

CRUISERS IN THE CLOUDS.

V.--THE FIRST ASCENT IN ENGLAND.

Though the English people, on the whole, disbelieved the tales they
heard of the French balloonists, they became very interested when a
certain young Italian, named Vincent Lunardi (Secretary to the Naples
Ambassador), gave out that he was willing to build a balloon and make a
voyage in it. Those devoted to science contributed willingly to the
expenses, and large crowds paid to be allowed to see the balloon while
it was being made. When nearly complete, it was exhibited in the Lyceum,
and the arrangements made with the proprietor of that building very
nearly led to disaster. He proved to be a greedy, dishonest man, and
when Lunardi wished to move the balloon to where the ascent was to be
made, he refused to let it go unless he was paid half of all Lunardi
secured by the venture, and a large share in any profits that might be
made on future occasions. Here was a difficulty Lunardi had not
expected, and it came with many others equally unlooked for. When
Lunardi first made the proposal, he had got leave from the Governors of
Chelsea Hospital to ascend from their spacious grounds; but, while the
balloon was being made, a certain Frenchman had set up in opposition,
and announced that he would give a display immediately. This promise he
failed to keep, and the disappointed sightseers paid him back by
breaking up his machinery. The idea of such a thing being repeated
terrified the Governors of Chelsea Hospital, and they requested Lunardi
to go elsewhere. He had just got over this trouble by being promised the
ground of the Honourable Artillery Company, when the proprietor of the
Lyceum refused to release the balloon. The Artillery Company, thinking
themselves the victims of a fraud, ordered the apparatus, which had been
sent to them, to to be thrown off the ground unless Lunardi found
securities in five hundred pounds to cover any injuries their premises
might suffer at the hands of the mob. But the proprietor of the Lyceum
had overreached himself, and when the matter was explained he was
compelled to give up the balloon, which was forthwith taken to the
artillery grounds under a special guard.

Two days later the scene of action was thronged by a noisy crowd, and
Lunardi has spoken of the dread he felt lest anything should happen to
delay the ascent. While the balloon was being filled, he viewed the
assembly from the upper storey of the Artillery House. Windows, roofs,
and scaffoldings were crammed, while in the large square below, the
people were so closely packed that it 'looked like a pavement of human
heads.' And they were by no means orderly, for most had come with the
idea that they were to be deceived. The arrival of the Prince of Wales,
however, put them in a better humour, and in less than two hours after
the appointed time, Vincent Lunardi carried out his promise. He would
not risk a longer delay. Though the balloon was only two-thirds full of
gas, and he had to disappoint a friend who had arranged to sail with
him, he gave the signal and weighed anchor.

The grumblings of the fickle crowd turned to roars of applause, as the
balloon rose slowly over the house-tops. The noisiest and the roughest
there forgot the jests they had made at Lunardi's expense. And Vincent
Lunardi forgot them, too, for his worry was over, and his long labour
rewarded.

He had made his balloon without any valve at the top, and in order to
descend, had fitted it with long oars, shaped like lacrosse sticks.
These he now began to work in order that the vast crowds, who had not
been near enough to see him embark, might know that he was in the car.
But scarcely had he placed his hands upon them, when one of the oars
snapped off, and returned to the earth. It was instantly broken into
fragments by the crowd, the pieces being kept as relics by those who
were fortunate enough to secure them.

Lunardi then gave himself up to the enjoyment of his voyage, and watched
the great city spread beneath him till it became no more than a doll's
town.

Over the common of North Mimms Lunardi again plied his oars, and landed,
with the assistance of some country folk, in a field called Etna. Here
he released a cat which he had brought from London. It had felt the
coldness of the upper air considerably. A dog and some pigeons had also
accompanied him, and with these he continued his journey, finally
landing at Ware. A stone erected on the spot tells, to this day, the
story of his adventure.

As regards his mention of the oars, it has been pointed out that, since
Lunardi had to throw out ballast when rising the second time from Etna
field, it is hardly likely that his descent was due alone to the working
of the oars. It must have been through loss of gas, and he deceived
himself in thinking otherwise.

London was delighted at the news of his voyage. George III., who had
broken off an important state conference to peep through his telescope
at the wonderful balloon, afterwards allowed the young Italian to kiss
his hand at a brilliant levee. Military honours were bestowed upon him,
and with fewer obstacles in his way he now made fresh flights.

But perhaps his greatest triumphs were in Spain, the king of which
country gave him a residence in the royal palace at Madrid. Here, on
January 8th, 1793, he made a grand ascent, taking with him a number of
carrier pigeons. In the car of his balloon he wrote particulars of all
he saw, with as much ease as he would have done in his study. Carefully
folding the manuscript, he sent it on by one of the pigeons to the
governor of Madrid. It was the first time that the world had ever known
of a post-office in the sky, but, for all that, the letter was delivered
as promptly as any one could wish.

Lunardi's cruises in the clouds were sometimes attended by great danger,
particularly one he made in Portugal, on August 24th, 1794. It was a
windy day, and when, on nearing the earth, he threw out the anchor, the
rope snapped as it caught against a tree. The balloon rose to a height
of three miles, and fearing that he would be blown out to sea, Lunardi
pulled the valve-rope. Unfortunately this broke too, but enough gas
escaped to cause the balloon to descend rapidly. A quarter of an hour
later the car struck the ground with great violence, and a sack,
weighing twenty pounds, was jolted out. Relieved of this weight it rose
again, but less powerfully, and Lunardi found himself, a little later,
being dragged and bumped along the ground at a great pace. Some ignorant
peasants, terrified by the balloon, ran for their guns, and the poor
aeronaut was treated to a shower of bullets. Fortunately, the speed soon
carried him out of range; then, seizing an opportunity, he leapt from
the car, among a tumbling mass of ballast and scientific instruments.
When he found his feet, it was to see the balloon sailing at a great
height towards the sea, and a few minutes later it disappeared from his
sight for ever.

JOHN LEA.

[Illustration: The First Post-office in the Sky.]

[Illustration: ALL HANDS TO THE PUMP.]

[Illustration: "We were driven away from that truly hospitable house."]

THE BOY TRAMP.

(_Concluded from page 188._)

'There was nothing more to be done,' continued Captain Knowlton, 'till I
reached England. Of course I had no idea that Mr. Turton had taken Mr.
Windlesham's place at Ascot House. I reached Southampton yesterday,
travelled direct from there to Castlemore without touching London, and
saw Mr. Turton. It appears that he opened my telegram the day after you
ran away, Everard. By-the-bye,' demanded Captain Knowlton, 'I should
like to hear just why you did run away?'

'When they thought you were dead,' I answered, 'and that my school bill
would not be paid, and I should be left on their hands, they began to
treat me as if I were a servant. I did not believe I should ever see you
again; I knew I wasn't wanted there; I--I couldn't stand it, and I ran
away.'

'Well,' continued Captain Knowlton, 'Mr. Turton didn't seem to know
exactly what to say for himself. He explained, however, that he had paid
Mr. Windlesham a long price for the goodwill of the school, and that he
reckoned you as one of the most profitable pupils. He could ill afford
the loss of your account, to say nothing of your being left on his hands
to lodge and feed. Yet he assured me he had no intention to turn you
out, although he saw no harm, in all the circumstances, in making you
useful.'

'Still,' I exclaimed, 'he need not have made me black Augustus's boots.'

'That,' said Mr. Westlake, 'was evidently the last straw.'

I noticed that Jacintha watched Captain Knowlton's face with some
anxiety, thinking, perhaps, that he would show signs of displeasure at
my flight.

'Mr. Turton admits,' he continued, 'that since you had taken the law
into your own hands, he made no effort to overtake you until the arrival
of my telegram. Then, imagining you had turned towards London, he took
the train to various towns on the way, and no doubt did his utmost to
find you.'

'Oh!' cried Jacintha, abruptly.

'Well,' asked Mr. Westlake, 'what is it?'

'If I had told Mr. Turton where Everard was hiding,' she said, 'he would
have explained that Captain Knowlton was alive, and everything would
have been all right!'

'All's well that ends well!' remarked Captain Knowlton.

'Everard did not think it would end well the day before yesterday,'
cried Jacintha.

'The night is often the darkest just before dawn,' said her mother; but
for my own part I kept silent, for, looking back only a few days, and
recollecting what had been the outlook, I felt afraid of making an idiot
of myself if I ventured to open my lips.

'I gave Mr. Turton a cheque,' said Captain Knowlton, 'and I am afraid I
lost my temper. I saw the real state of affairs, and reckoned him up so
candidly that we did not part very good friends.'

'You certainly made an impression on him,' cried Mr. Westlake. 'He began
a long rigmarole when I explained my business this morning, but the main
point of it was that you had turned up and addressed him in language
which he really could not describe as polite.'

'No,' admitted Captain Knowlton, gazing at the tip of his cigar, 'I am
afraid he really couldn't.'

'He gave me the name of your hotel,' Mr. Westlake continued, 'and,
taking the next train to London, I was driven at once to Northumberland
Avenue, where luckily I found you at home.'

'I had just come back from an interview with my lawyer,' said Captain
Knowlton. 'Of course, I was very anxious to discover what had become of
this youngster, and, in fact,' he added, 'a private detective is already
looking for him, and to-morrow morning he will see himself advertised
for in every London newspaper.'

'A day after the fair!' cried Mrs. Westlake.

'And that,' said her husband, 'is about the end of the tale.'

'Not quite,' answered Captain Knowlton, rising from his arm-chair. 'The
most important thing remains to be done, and the most difficult.'

'That is all right, Knowlton,' said Mr. Westlake.

But Captain Knowlton paid no attention. 'I should very much like to
know,' he said, 'how to thank you kind people for all you have done.'

'Remember,' suggested Mrs. Westlake, 'that if Jacintha had acted
properly, the worst troubles would have been avoided.'

'In my opinion,' said Captain Knowlton, 'Jacintha is a brick. I
understand,' he continued, 'that you would rather not be thanked. All
the same I shall never forget your kindness, and I hope Everard will not
either.'

'No--no fear,' I muttered as I rose, trying to smile, and failing in the
most lamentable manner. But there seemed to be a general desire to treat
the affair lightly; we shook hands all round, the butler whistled for a
hansom, and appeared pleased with the tip which Captain Knowlton pressed
into his hand. So we were driven away from that truly hospitable house,
and that night I slept in a comfortable room at a great hotel in
Northumberland Avenue; the next morning being given up to various visits
to the tailor's, the hatter's, the hosier's, and so forth. After
luncheon, Captain Knowlton took me to his room and insisted that I
should once more relate my adventures from beginning to end; and, when
this was reached, we set out for New Scotland Yard, where in a private
room I was called upon to tell all I knew about Mr. Parsons and his
companions in the presence of an officer in plain clothes.

When I had finished, Captain Knowlton begged the police officer, if
possible, to dispense with my appearance as a witness. A few days later
we heard that Parsons, Loveridge, and another man had been arrested,
although I believe not at the house where I had passed so many miserable
hours. On investigation, it proved that there was evidence to convict
them without my aid, and although the trial did not take place for some
time, the three men were eventually sentenced to terms of imprisonment
which would prevent them from preying upon the public for many years to
come.

Captain Knowlton consulted Mr. Westlake about the choice of my next
school, with the result that a few weeks later found me settled at
Richmond with the 'crammer' who was expected to do great things for
Dick. Dick and I soon became the best of chums, and, later on, it
happened that we entered Sandhurst together, and were in due course
gazetted to our respective regiments the same month.

Shortly afterwards, we sailed for South Africa within a few days of each
other, and there, at Paardeberg, I received an unwelcome Mauser bullet
in my left thigh. While on sick leave at Capetown, waiting until it is
possible to rejoin my regiment at the front, I have passed the time by
writing this account of my adventures; and, now it is finished, it will
shortly be on its way to England, whither, if all go well, I hope,
before very many months have passed, to follow it.

THE END.

PUZZLERS FOR WISE HEADS.

9.--TRANSPOSITIONS.

These are the names of two famous soldiers, sailors, poets, novelists,
and two queens.

1. EGLLINNOTW.
2. ABGHMLOORRU.
3. ELNNOS.
4. ABEKL.
5. AAEEEHKPRSS.
6. ENNNOSTY.
7. COSTT.
8. CDEIKNS.
9. ABEEHILTZ.
10. ACIIORTV.

[_Answers on page 230._]

* * * * *

ANSWER TO PUZZLE ON PAGE 167.

8.--1. Cake.
2. Lake.
3. Rake.
4. Sake.
5. Take.
6. Wake.

A CENTRAL AFRICAN CAKE.

'Hiplay! lu--lu--lu--lu!'[3] some coal-black natives shouted joyously as
they stood by the shore of Lake Nyasa, and saw across the blue waters
what a European would have taken for water-spouts, or pillars of smoke.

But the natives knew better! Those great pillars darkening the air were
dense masses of that African delicacy, the Nkungu fly.

The men hurriedly seized the saucer-shaped baskets which they had with
them, and waved them round their heads till they were full of flies.

The next thing to do was to crush the flies in their hands, roll them in
leaves, and lay them to roast in the ashes of a wood fire.

When finished the mass looked rather like coffee-grounds, and tasted
like liquorice.

This is the only cake a Central African ever makes for himself. English
people would hardly want to rob him of it, but to him it is delicious.

FOOTNOTE:

[3] This is the Central African way of shouting 'Hurrah!'

THE WEATHER SPRITES.

LAST NIGHT.

The Weather Sprites in slumber lie,
'Tis plain as plain can be,
For clouds have hidden all the sky--
A mist is on the sea,
They laid the brooms of wind away
Before the day was done,
And left a curtain, dull and grey,
To hide the setting sun.

'Wake, Weather Sprites! oh, wake again!
You slumber all too soon,
And, look you, drawn by imps of rain
A ring is round the moon.
With all your might rub out the ring,
Mop all this rain away,
For such a night can only bring
An even duller day.'

THIS MORNING.

Then through the darkness, ere I slept,
I heard them passing by;
Across the roof their brushes swept,
Then cleared the misty sky.
They mopped away with all their might,
And dried the garden soon;
While busy dusters rubbed from sight
The ring around the moon.

And as I throw the shutter wide,
And look out at the dawn,
The garden paths are neatly dried,
And all the clouds are gone.
But hark, where in the morning light
Yon chestnut lifts its dome,
I hear the last, last Weather Sprite
Dragging her broomstick home.

WONDERFUL CAVERNS.

VI.--THE ROCK TEMPLES OF AJUNTA AND ELLORA.

On one of India's loneliest glens, called Ajunta, travellers come upon a
perfect settlement of buildings and temples, cut in the face of a
semicircle of cliffs about two hundred and fifty feet high. Over the
cliff leaps a brawling river, making seven distinct falls before
reaching the valley below.

From a distance only pillared fronts appear, but on a closer view the
real grandeur and beauty of the temples come to light. The inside walls
are covered with paintings, well drawn, and fairly well preserved. The
pictures chiefly illustrate the life of Buddha, and the sacred tree
beneath which he used to sit often appears in them, hung with rich gifts
from his followers. The good works which he did for the poor and
suffering are constantly painted. Other paintings show hunting scenes
and battles, drawn with great vigour and of huge size; others have
pictures of peacocks, elephants, apes, and other animals.

The architecture of these caves is very fine. We can hardly imagine the
enormous labour of cutting out the deep ribs of the roof, the light
twisted pillars, and elaborate framework for pictures which adorn the
galleries. The marvel is how human hands could have done such work,
especially when we remember that the natives of India, like those of
Egypt, who did great feats in rock architecture, had the smallest and
most delicately-shaped hands of all human races.

[Illustration: The Rock Temple of Kailus at Ellora.]

There are thirty-four distinct rock-temples at Ellora, near Aurangabad,
in India. Most of them are of the usual pattern of cave-temples, some
the work of Buddhists, others of a sect called Jains, who are famous for
kindness to animals. The more modern ones are built by Brahmins, and
these are the true marvels of Ellora, though they can hardly be
accounted as cave-temples, being cut bodily out of the rock outside as
well as inside. The way in which these monuments of industry were
probably built was as follows:--The builders first marked off a large
square of the cliff, and outside this square dug a wide deep trench,
leaving an immense mass of stone standing in the centre. Out of this
mass, which may or may not have contained natural caverns, they cut a
magnificent temple, standing on a raised platform, and adorned with
domes, galleries, colossal statues of animals and the richest forms of
ornament. Fancy the patient toil, lasting year after year, even when the
outside was finished, of scooping out the interior, with its great halls
and passages!

The most wonderful of these temples is called 'Kailus,' and is dedicated
to Siva the Destroyer. It has a great court, in which are ponds,
obelisks, figures of the Sphinx, and other ornaments, whilst in the
middle stands an immense group of elephants. Above these huge creatures,
rows of stately columns, in four tiers, one above the other, support the
actual temple, and the effect is so light that the building seems to be
hung in the air.

Kailus is the sacred mountain in Thibet, from which flow the four great
rivers of India, and every year thousands of pilgrims toil in solemn
procession round its ice-covered rocks, to bathe in the waters of the
sacred Lake Manseroeur, which lies below.

HELENA HEATH.

[Illustration: An Eastern Snake Charmer.]

EASTERN JUGGLERS.

Some True Anecdotes of Wonderful Feats.

Eastern kings and princes are careful, like those of Western countries,
that those visitors who come to them should have amusements. There is no
difficulty, at any time, in obtaining performers with snakes, for
serpent charmers and trainers are well-known and popular. The
fearlessness these men show is amazing; it has been said, indeed, that
they operate only with harmless snakes, or those deprived of their
fangs, but there seems to be evidence they can manage poisonous reptiles
in good condition for stinging. The charmers probably influence the
snakes in three ways--by music, by fumes arising from substances they
burn in a dish, and also by certain movements of their own bodies.
Sometimes they practise a sort of fortune-telling by snakes, the motion
of the reptile's head towards some object being supposed to give an
answer to a question.

A show of wild animals, too, often furnishes an entertainment, and
sometimes, after the animals have performed various tricks, or have had
mock fights, there is a second part consisting of conjuring and feats of
agility. A traveller in the East, describing one of these
entertainments, tells us of one Hindoo whom he saw, with very stout arms
but rather thin legs. He was bare to the waist, wearing white trousers
and a smart skull-cap of blue and yellow silk. A slight yet firm ladder
was placed upright; across the top was a strong pole, and at each end of
the pole a stout cord hung down. The ends of the cords were staked to
the ground, so that the apparatus could not give way. Having made a
salaam to the spectators, the Hindoo began his operations.

Rubbing his hands together, the juggler went to the ladder, and grasping
the first bar above his head, mounted with surprising activity, keeping
his feet motionless about six inches from the frame. Having reached the
top by the help of his hands only, he threw his feet upward, and was
seen resting upon his head with his arms crossed over his chest and his
legs closed. Thus he remained motionless for over a minute. Next, a cord
being flung to him from below, he caught it and drew up an iron ball
about six pounds in weight, enclosed in a netting of twine. Still
remaining upon his head, the Hindoo raised the ball to about three yards
from his hand, and then swung it circularly; after a few whirls he
launched it through the air, sending it a long distance over the heads
of the spectators. His next performance was even more startling. First,
he dexterously laid himself upon his back along the pole on top of the
ladder. Thus balanced, he had six native daggers, with broad,
double-edged blades, thrown to him, and caught each one in turn. Having
got them all, he threw them one by one several yards above his head,
catching them as they fell, and having always four in the air at the
same moment. After a few minutes he let all the daggers drop upon his
body, with the blades uppermost.

His next feat was, if possible, still more remarkable. An iron rod about
three feet long was stood upright on the pole; upon the top of it he
rested a large, shallow, wooden bowl, holding the rod balanced so
exactly that it kept quite perpendicular. With a sudden jump, the
performer seated himself in this bowl and caught twelve brass balls
thrown up to him. Projecting the whole lot into the air, he kept them
constantly in motion for several minutes, then sprang to his feet and
_stood_ in the bowl with the balls spinning round him. After a few
minutes he jumped upon the pole, letting the balls, the rod, and the
bowl drop to the ground. As a finish, the little man descended the
ladder upon his hands, going head first, and amid shouts of applause
bowed and retired.