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ing the divine Master it is surely, ships and sailors, and the annoyance especially in the case of the nurse, a of fishermen in general. In the progpriceless opportunity of feeding the ress of his work, Old Nick dropped his lambs beloved of the great Shepherd hammer into the sea. Snatching at it who lived as well as died for his sheep. hastily, he caught a haddock, and all

haddocks carry the imprint of his black fingers to this day.

Fishermen have queer customs. A From The Fishing Gazette, few years ago the fishermen of PresFISHING SUPERSTITIONS.

ton, Lancashire, used actually to go THE legends, quaint customs, and fishing on Sunday. It seems incredsuperstitions connected with fish and ible, but they did. A clergymau of fishing are many and curious. Ask a the town used to preach against this Scandinavian why salmon are red and Sabbath desecration, and

pray that have such fine tails. You will be told they might catch no fish. And they that the ruddy color of the flesh is did not ! But they found out how to due to the fact that when Heaven was make his prayers of no avail. The on fire the gods threw the flames into fishermen used to make a little effigy the water, and the salmon swallowed of the parson in rags, and put this them. The delicacy of the salmon's small guy up their chinneys. tail is explained by the story that Loki, While his reverence was slowly smoked when the angry gods pursued him, aud consumed, the fish bit — like any. turned himself into a salmon. He thing! The fishermen of the Isle of would have escaped if Thor had not. Man always feel safe from storm and caught him by the tail. Salmon have disaster if they have a dead wren on had their tails fine and thin ever since. board. They have a tradition that at Why are soles, plaice, and other flat one time an evil sea spirit always fish brown on one side and white on haunted the herring pack and the other? The Arabs of Upper Egypt always attended by storms. The spirit give an explanation which no one can assumed many forms ; at last it took hesitate to accept. One day, they tell the shape of a wren and flew away. you, Moses, the Israelitish lawgiver, If the fishermen have a dead wren was frying a fish - we all know the with them, they are certain that all will Jews are fond of fried fish, and they be safe and snug. Shocking it is to be cook it splendidly. Moses, however, compelled to state that many fishing had only cooked his fish on one side superstitions are ungallantly directed when the fire went out, and so he angrily against the ladies. Over against Ross threw the half-cooked fish into the sea. there is the Island of Lewis, sixty Although half broiled, it came to life miles in length. In this isle there is again, and its descendants — all the but one fresh river. “ Fish abound flatfish - have preserved to-day the there in very great plenty,” but only peculiar appearance of their half- let a woman wade in the stream, and cooked ancestor, being white on one not a salmon will be seen there for at side and brown on the other. Why do least twelve months. There is a song haddocks carry those peculiar black about “Eliza's Tootsies,” but that im. “ finger marks near the head ? Some mortal lyric does not explain why they tell us that they are a memento of the should frighten the fish. I believe the pressure of St. Peter's fingers when ladies deny the allegation in toto. In he went fishing for the tribute money. the south of Ireland, an angler proOn the Yorkshire coast they say the ceeding to fish declares that he will devil once determined to build a bridge have no luck if he is asked where he is at Filey. His Satanic Majesty did not going to, if he sees a magpie, or " if start the bridge for the convenience of he is so unfortunate as to meet & the people, but for the destruction of woman !”


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CONTENTS. I. Scottish NATIONAL HUMOR. By S. R. . Crockett,

Contemporary Review,


New Review,

Blackwood's Magazine,
By Alphonse de Calonne,

Nineteenth Century, ,
VI. COPERNICUs. By Sir Robert Ball, LL.D.,

Good Words,
By A, W. W. Dale,

Sunday Magazine,




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A STAR CAN BE AS PERFECT AS A SUN. Could it but speak, what strange and BECAUSE you cannot be moving stories,

An overhanging bow, What tales of joy and grief, it would un- Whose promise all the world can see, fold,

Why are you grieving so? Of faded beauty and forgotten glories, A dewdrop holds the seven colors too;

Of love and sorrow in the days of old ! Can you not be a perfect drop of dew? Perchance it played the grave and stately Because you cannot be

Resplendent Sirius,
While powdered couples trod the minuet ; Whose shining all the world can see,
Perhaps it was a beggar's only pleasure,

Why are you grieving thus ?
Or helped a prince his trouble to forget ! One tiny ray will reach out very far ;

Can you not be a perfect little star ?
Ah, violin ! we dream and wonder vainly-
Time with the sweet June roses never The smallest, faintest star
stays -

That dots the Milky Way, The past is dead ; we cannot learn more And sends one glimmer where you are plainly

Gives forth a faultless ray ; The buried history of forgotten days. Learn then this lesson, oh, discouraged one! Yet, as a faint and odorous sweetness lin- A star can be as perfect as the sun.

JULIA H. MAY. gers With faded petals, though their bloom

be fled So, charmed anew by sympathetic fingers,

EXCELSIOR. You bring a haunting memory of the A LITTLE higher yet — until we're lifted dead;

Above the obscuring clouds that dim our So, as of old, you speak in tenderest sight : fashion,

Until our souls have through the darkness Mellow with memories of unseen years,

drifted To raise our minds from worldly care and

Into God's marvellous light. passion,

A little nearer - till earth's joys and sorrow And stir the thoughts that lie so close to

Far, far beneath us in the shadows lie, tears.

And we have glimpses of the bright to
Longman's Magazine.

That waits us in the sky.
A little higher yet- - a little nearer,

Until at last a glorious crown is won,

Whilst, as we soar, sounds sweeter still, Some seek, O God ! the boon of death from

and clearer, thee;

“Servant of God, well done!” I ask a gift more sorrowful than death,

Argosy. I who have waited twice with bated

Yet tranquil, at Death's gate. All wearily
I waited, yet no voice called forth for me. WHATEVER evils Day hath done,
So silent I returned into the path

Whatever souls have suffered wrong,
Of life. Now even as one that lingereth Whatever woes the falling sun
Over some plan whose aim he could not

Will leave to darkness to prolong ;

Thou art a dream of beauty, Even ! Erewhile, but now with spirit in it, longs

Thou art a dower to lonely eyes ; To accomplish ere the coming of the Thou art an evanescent heaven night,

Descending through the languid skies. So I, amid the tumult and the strife Of death and life, to which no task belongs, Thou bringest rest to weary strife, Have found a lifework, even while the And tears to eyes that longed to weep ; light

Thou bring'st a hush to weary life, Of life is flickering, and I pray for life. A calm that deepens on to sleep. L. MORRISON-GRANT,




From The Contemporary Review. But in time these rose to higher

strata in the poems of Lindsay, in some SCOTTISH NATIONAL HUMOR.

of Knox's prose – very grim and strong No one can pass a lifetime among it is — and in Dunbar and Henrysoun, the people of our countryside without mixed in every case with strongly perbeing made aware, in ways pleasant sonal elements. Burns alone caught, and the reverse, of the great amount and held the full force of it, for he was of popular humor ever bubbling up of the soil and grew up near to it. So from the heart of the common people. that to all time he must remain the It is to them the salt of intercourse, finest expression of almost all forms of the oil on the axles of their life. Not Scottish feeling. As to prose, chapoften does it reach the stage of being books and pamphlets innumerable carexpressed in literary form. It is lostried on the stream, which for the most for the time being in the stir of farm- part was conveyed underground, till, in byres, in the cheerful talk of ingle- the fulness of the time, Walter Scott. nooks. You can hear it being windily came to give Scottish humor worldexchanged in the greetings of shep-wide fame in the noble series of imagiher crying the one to the other native writings by which he set his across the valleys. It finds way in the native land beside the England of observations of passing hinds as they William Shakespeare. meet on the way to mill, and kirk, and Scott was the first great literary garmarket.

dener of our old national stock of huFor example, an artist is busy at his mor, and right widely he gathered, as easel by the wayside. A rustic is look- those know who have striven to follow ing over his shoulder in the free man- in his trail. Hardly a chap-book but per of the independent Scot. A brother he has been through — hardly a generarustic is in a field near by with his tion of our national history that he has hands in his pockets. He is uncertain not touched and adorned. Yet because whether it is worth while to take the Scotland is a wide place, and Scottish trouble to mount the dyke for the un- humor also in every sense broad, no certain pleasure of looking at the pic. future humorist need feel straitened ture. “What is he doing, Jock ?” within their ample bounds. asks be in the field of his better situ- Of all the cherished delusions of the ated mate. “Drawin' wi' pent!” re- inhabitant of the southern part of turns Jock, over his shoulder. “ Is 't Great Britain with regard to his northbonny ?” again asks the son of toil ern brother, the most astonishing is in the field. " OCHT BUT BONNY!" the belief that the Scot is destitute of comes back the prompt and decided humor. Other delusions may be dissianswer of the critic. Of considerations pated by a tourist ticket and the ascent for the artist's feelings there is not a of Ben Nevis - such as that, north of trace. Yet both of these rustics will the Tweed, we dress solely in the kilt appreciatively relate the incident on which we do not, at least, during the coming in from the field and washing day ; that we support life solely upon themselves, with this rider : “ An’ le haggis and the product of the national didna look ower weel pleased, I can tell distilleries ; that the professors of ye! Did he, Jock ?"

Edinburgh University, being “panged This great body of popular humor fu' o' lear,” communicate the same to first found its way into the channels of their students in the purest Gaelic - a our historic literature mainly in the thing which, though not altogether unform of ballads and songs — often very precedented, is, I am told, considered free in taste and broad in expression, somewhat informal by the Senatus. because they were struck from the These may be taken as examples rustic heart, and accordingly smelt of of the grosser delusions which leap the farmvard where common things are to the eye, and are received upon called by their common names.

the ear

as often as the subject of

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Scotland arises in a company of the un- | that “every person who despises the travelled, and as we should say “glai- Greek language and literature proves kit Englisher."

himself to be either a conceited puppy But such vulgar errors

or an ignorant fool.” Our own attichiefly confined to the solemnly fatuous tude towards the Greek language at sheets which proclaim themselves to that time was not, however, that of be comic papers; and which, as I ob- contempt. We have always had the serve from the evidence of the rail- deepest respect and admiration for way bookstalls, command a much more the Greek language, as well as for the ready sale in England than the works equator ; and we are sure that upon of all the humorists from Charles Lamb more intimate acquaintance that adto Mr. Jerome K. Jerome. A man is miration and respect would increase, known by the company he keeps. He we may say, on both sides. So that, is still better known, at least when be though the professor frequently told travels, by the papers he buys. For it us that he had known several learned is but rarely that we can select our pigs to make much better Greek verses travelling companions; while, on the than ourselves, we are yet free of his contrary, when, at that gay and pleas- greater excommunication. ing mart of literature of which I con- But I should like to pass on his comfess myself a devotee, the railway mination, after expressing my envious bookstall, a man says boldly, Illus- admiration of the strength and comtrated Scrapings, Orts, Chips, and the pactness of his language. This (it is Pink 'Un !he writes himself down understood) is what married ladies are as a genuine lover of literature, of a wont to do, who have been sorely tried kind, indeed, but I know well that Mr. during the day by the stupidity of serLang and Mr. Barrie will not profit by vants and the contrariness of circumhim.

stances — they wait till their husbands It is, however, not always wise to come home, and pass it on. For this judge by appearances. A friend of makes the thing fair all round and premine upon one occasion very nearly vents hard feelings. lost the important good-will of the So I should nuch like to say, here father of the lady to whom his affec- and now, that “ every person who detions were at the time somewhat en- spises Scottish national humor proves gaged, by foolishly colloguing with a himself to be either a conceited puppy certain prospective brother-in-law, a or an ignorant fool.” I should like to youth wholly without reverence, and add — " or both !” buying a large quantity of the afore- There is a classical passage in the said Orts-and-Scrapings illustrated lit- works of Mr. Stevenson, which, with erature. This the ill-set pair strapped the metrical psalms, the poems of conspicuously upon the outside of the Burns, and the Catechisms, Shorter paternal dressing-cases and rugs - and Larger, ought to be required of which, not being discovered till the every Scottislı man or woman before journey was far spent, occasioned great they be allowed to get married. It is indignation in the owner, who had in- sad to see young people setting up structed the buying of Punch, thc house so ill-filted for the battle of life. Guardian, the Spectator, and other the passage from Mr. Stevenson is as serious literature of that kind. Ex- follows. I protest that I never can planations and apologies were not read it, even for the hundredth time, accepted ; and, as I say, this man of without a certain sympathetic moisture my acquaintance nearly lost a fairly of the eye. good wife over this occurrence.

None but an Edinburgh lad could It is a dictum of the most justly have written it none but one to celebrated of emeritus professors of the whom nature and the works of God classics (alas ! gone from the upper meant chiefly the Pentlands and the world since this paper was in print) Lothians :


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