Part 6 (1/2)
'That is right, Ralph,' said Mrs. Hodge, heartily, for she knew that Ralph's influence was great. 'Now for a pail of fresh water, and let me see if I cannot get all this dirt off this poor fellow's face and hair.'
'Thank you, Missis, you have been real good to me,' the man said, hoa.r.s.ely. 'I could never have stood it much longer.'
The mob--fickle as mobs so often are--were now as ready to help as before to injure, and instead of jeering and reviling, there were now those who remarked that 'perhaps the chap was no worse than the rest of us,' whilst others were glad they had been stopped in time, for only a few weeks before a man had been killed, whilst standing in the pillory, by those who were only 'amusing' themselves in much the same fas.h.i.+on as folk on that day.
One of the crowd fetched water, and a woman brought a mug of milk, which was sweet as nectar to the poor man's parched throat, and now, though he had still many hours before sundown to stand in the pillory, yet it was shorn of its chief terror, as Ralph undertook to s.h.i.+eld him from all further injury.
So he once more thanked Mrs. Hodge, and she returned to her eggs with a mind at ease.
It may surprise our readers to know that the punishment of the pillory remained on the Statute-book of this country until the year 1837, though it had practically fallen into disuse for many years before it was repealed.
The pillory came down to us from Anglo-Saxon times, and there was a law pa.s.sed in the reign of Henry III., ordering every village to set up a pillory when required for bakers who used false weights, perjurers, and so on.
CLARENDON.
[Ill.u.s.tration: ”'Shame on you all, to hit a helpless man!'”]
[Ill.u.s.tration: A Countryman's Well-deserved Rebuke.]
NOTHING IS PERFECT.
An Italian artist had painted a little girl holding a basket of strawberries. One of his friends, who was at the time a great admirer of his genius, wis.h.i.+ng to show the perfection of the picture, said to some people who were looking at it, 'These strawberries are so very natural and perfect, that I have seen birds coming down from the trees to peck them, mistaking them for real strawberries.'
A countryman, on hearing this ridiculous praise, burst out laughing: 'Well, sir,' he cried, 'if the strawberries are so well represented as you say they are, it must not be the same with the little girl, since she does not frighten the birds.'
The painter's friend could answer nothing; he had received a well-deserved rebuke for his flattery.
MORAL.--Excessive praise wrongs rather than benefits the person upon whom it is bestowed.
W. YARWOOD.
WONDERFUL CAVERNS.
I.--ON CAVERNS IN GENERAL.
Long ago, in the dark ages of the world, when superst.i.tious terrors ruled the mind of savage man, caverns were looked upon with awe and peopled with supernatural beings. The mysterious waters that issued from some, the depth and length of the winding ways of others, the unaccountable sounds that echoed through the vaults and galleries of all, gave rise to wonderful legends in many parts of the world.
Beneath the Holy Peak of Kailas, supposed to be the centre of the Hindoo Universe, are caverns in which, according to legend, live the four sacred animals, the elephant, the lion, the cow, and the horse, from whose mouths issue the four great rivers of India, the Ganges, Sutlej, Indus, and Brahmapootra.
According to Scandinavian mythology, Loke, the incarnation of evil, was for a long time bound to points of rock in a cavern, with a huge serpent crouching above and spitting venom on the prisoner.
Hastrand, the nether world of the Vikings, was also depicted as a cavern of colossal size, furnished with poisonous serpents and unlimited sources of torture for mind and body.
The Greeks held caverns to be sacred to various G.o.ds--Pan, Bacchus, Pluto, and the Moon. The Romans peopled them with Sibyls, or priestesses of Fate, and beautiful nymphs; whilst in ancient Germany and Gaul, fairies, dragons, and evil spirits shared the gloomy recesses which no mortal might invade and live.