Java How To Program Late Objects 10th Edition

Deitel Test Bank pdf download

https://testbankfan.com/product/java-how-to-program-late-
objects-10th-edition-deitel-test-bank/
We believe these products will be a great fit for you. Click
the link to download now, or visit testbankfan.com
to discover even more!

Java How To Program Late Objects 10th Edition Deitel

Solutions Manual

https://testbankfan.com/product/java-how-to-program-late-
objects-10th-edition-deitel-solutions-manual/

Java How to Program Early Objects 10th Edition Deitel

Test Bank

https://testbankfan.com/product/java-how-to-program-early-
objects-10th-edition-deitel-test-bank/

Java How to Program Early Objects 10th Edition Deitel

Solutions Manual

https://testbankfan.com/product/java-how-to-program-early-
objects-10th-edition-deitel-solutions-manual/

Physics For Scientists And Engineers 3rd Edition

Fishbane Solutions Manual

https://testbankfan.com/product/physics-for-scientists-and-
engineers-3rd-edition-fishbane-solutions-manual/
Alexanders Care of the Patient in Surgery 15th Edition
Rothrock Test Bank

https://testbankfan.com/product/alexanders-care-of-the-patient-
in-surgery-15th-edition-rothrock-test-bank/

Auditing and Assurance Services in Australia Revised

6th Edition Gay Solutions Manual

https://testbankfan.com/product/auditing-and-assurance-services-
in-australia-revised-6th-edition-gay-solutions-manual/

Nutrition for Life 3rd Edition Thompson Test Bank

https://testbankfan.com/product/nutrition-for-life-3rd-edition-
thompson-test-bank/

Dynamic Business Law The Essentials 4th Edition Kubasek

Test Bank

https://testbankfan.com/product/dynamic-business-law-the-
essentials-4th-edition-kubasek-test-bank/

Intermediate Financial Management 12th Edition Brigham

Solutions Manual

https://testbankfan.com/product/intermediate-financial-
management-12th-edition-brigham-solutions-manual/
Absolute C++ 6th Edition Savitch Solutions Manual

https://testbankfan.com/product/absolute-c-6th-edition-savitch-
solutions-manual/
Chapter 10: Object-Oriented
Programming: Polymorphism
Section 10.1 Introduction
10.1 Q1: Polymorphism enables you to:
a. program in the general.
b. program in the specific.
c. absorb attributes and behavior from previous classes.
d. hide information from the user.
Ans: a. program in the general.

Section 10.2 Polymorphism Examples

10.2 Q1: For which of the following would polymorphism not provide a clean
solution?
a. A billing program where there is a variety of client types that are billed with
different fee structures.
b. A maintenance log program where data for a variety of types of machines is
collected and maintenance schedules are produced for each machine based on the
data collected.
c. A program to compute a 5% savings account interest for a variety of clients.
d. An IRS program that maintains information on a variety of taxpayers and
determines who to audit based on criteria for classes of taxpayers.
Ans: c. A program to compute a 5% savings account interest for a variety of
clients. Because there is only one kind of calculation, there is no need for
polymorphism.

10.2 Q2: Polymorphism allows for specifics to be dealt with during:

a. execution.
b. compilation.
c. programming.
d. debugging.
Ans: a. execution

© Copyright 1992-2015 by Deitel & Associates, Inc. and Pearson Education, Inc.
Section 10.3 Demonstrating Polymorphic
Behavior
10.3 Q1: Which statement best describes the relationship between superclass and
subclass types?
a. A subclass reference cannot be assigned to a superclass variable and a superclass
reference cannot be assigned to a subclass variable.
b. A subclass reference can be assigned to a superclass variable and a superclass
reference can be assigned to a subclass variable.
c. A superclass reference can be assigned to a subclass variable, but a subclass
reference cannot be assigned to a superclass variable.
d. A subclass reference can be assigned to a superclass variable, but a superclass
reference cannot be assigned to a subclass variable.
Ans: d. A subclass reference can be assigned to a superclass variable, but a
superclass reference cannot be assigned to a subclass variable.

Section 10.4 Abstract Classes and Methods

10.4 Q1: A(n) class cannot be instantiated.
a. final.
b. concrete.
c. abstract.
d. polymorphic.
Ans: c. abstract.

10.4 Q2: Non-abstract classes are called ________.

a. real classes.
b. instance classes.
c. implementable classes.
d. concrete classes.
Ans: d. concrete classes.

Section 10.5 Case Study: Payroll System

Using Polymorphism
10.5 Q1: It is a UML convention to denote the name of an abstract class in
________.
a. bold.
© Copyright 1992-2015 by Deitel & Associates, Inc. and Pearson Education, Inc.
b. italics.
c. a diamond.
d. there is no convention of the UML to denote abstract classes—they are listed just
as any other class.
Ans: b. italics.

10.5 Q2: If the superclass contains only abstract method declarations, the
superclass is used for ________.
a. implementation inheritance.
b. interface inheritance.
c. Both.
d. Neither.
Ans: b. interface inheritance.

Section 10.5.1 Abstract Superclass Employee

10.5.1 Q1: Which of the following could be used to declare abstract method
method1 in abstract class Class1 (method1 returns an int and takes no arguments)?
a. public int method1();
b. public int abstract method1();
c. public abstract int method1();
d. public int nonfinal method1();
Ans: c. public abstract int method1();

10.5.1 Q2: Which of the following statements about abstract superclasses is true?
a. abstract superclasses may contain data.
b. abstract superclasses may not contain implementations of methods.
c. abstract superclasses must declare all methods as abstract.
d. abstract superclasses must declare all data members not given values as
abstract.
Ans: a. abstract superclasses may contain data.

Section 10.5.2 Concrete Subclass

SalariedEmployee
10.5.2 Q1: Consider the abstract superclass below:
public abstract class Foo
{
private int a;
public int b;
© Copyright 1992-2015 by Deitel & Associates, Inc. and Pearson Education, Inc.
 public Foo(int aVal, int bVal)
{
a = aVal;
b = bVal;
}

public abstract int calculate();

}

Any concrete subclass that extends class Foo:

a. Must implement a method called calculate.
b. Will not be able to access the instance variable a.
c. Neither (a) nor (b).
d. Both (a) and (b).
Ans: d. Both (a) and (b).

Section 10.5.3 Concrete Subclass HourlyEmployee

(No questions.)

Section 10.5.4 Concrete Subclass

CommisionEmployee
(No Questions.)

Section 10.5.5 Indirect Concrete Subclass

BasePlusCommissionEmployee
10.5.5 Q1: Consider classes A, B and C, where A is an abstract superclass, B is a
concrete class that inherits from A and C is a concrete class that inherits from B. Class
A declares abstract method originalMethod, implemented in class B. Which of the
following statements is true of class C?
a. Method originalMethod cannot be overridden in class C—once it has been
implemented in concrete class B, it is implicitly final.
b. Method originalMethod must be overridden in class C, or a compilation error will
occur.
c. If method originalMethod is not overridden in class C but is called by an object of
class C, an error occurs.
d. None of the above.
Ans: d. None of the above.
© Copyright 1992-2015 by Deitel & Associates, Inc. and Pearson Education, Inc.
Section 10.5.6 Polymorphic Processing, Operator
instanceof and Downcasting
10.5.6 Q1: When a superclass variable refers to a subclass object and a method is
called on that object, the proper implementation is determined at execution time.
What is the process of determining the correct method to call?
a. early binding.
b. non-binding.
c. on-time binding.
d. late binding.
Ans: d. late binding (also called dynamic binding).

10.5.6 Q2: Every object in Java knows its own class and can access this information
through method .
a. getClass.
b. getInformation.
c. objectClass.
d. objectInformation.
Ans: a. getClass.

Section 10.6 Allowed Assignments Between

Superclass and Subclass Variables

10.6 Q1: Assigning a subclass reference to a superclass variable is safe ________.

a. because the subclass object has an object of its superclass.
b. because the subclass object is an object of its superclass.
c. only when the superclass is abstract.
d. only when the superclass is concrete.
Ans: b. because the subclass object is an object of its superclass.

Section 10.7 final Methods and Classes

10.7 Q1: Classes and methods are declared final for all but the following reasons:
a. final methods allow inlining the code.
b. final methods and classes prevent further inheritance.
c. final methods are static.
d. final methods can improve performance.
© Copyright 1992-2015 by Deitel & Associates, Inc. and Pearson Education, Inc.
Ans: c. final methods are static.

10.7 Q2: All of the following methods are implicitly final except:
a. a method in an abstract class.
b. a private method.
c. a method declared in a final class.
d. static method.
Ans: a. a method in an abstract class.

10.7 Q3: Declaring a method final means:

a. it will prepare the object for garbage collection.
b. it cannot be accessed from outside its class.
c. it cannot be overloaded.
d. it cannot be overridden.
Ans: d. it cannot be overridden.

Section 10.8 A Deeper Explanation of Issues

with Calling Methods from Constructors
10.8 Q1: Which of the following is false?
a. You should not call overridable methods from constructors—when creating a
subclass object, this could lead to an overridden method being called before the
subclass object is fully initialized.
b. It’s OK to any of a class’s methods from its constructors.
c. When you construct a subclass object, its constructor first calls one of the direct
superclass’s constructors. If the superclass constructor calls an overridable method,
the subclass’s version of that method will be called by the superclass constructor.
d. It’s acceptable to call a static method from a constructor.
ANS: b. It’s OK to any of a class’s methods from its constructors.

Section 10.9 Creating and Using Interfaces

10.9 Q1: In Java SE 7 and earlier, an interface may contain:
a. private static data and public abstract methods.
b. only public abstract methods.
c. public static final data and public abstract methods.
d. private static data and public final methods.
Ans: c. public static final data and public abstract methods.

10.9 Q2: Which of the following does not complete the sentence correctly?
© Copyright 1992-2015 by Deitel & Associates, Inc. and Pearson Education, Inc.
An interface .
a. forces classes that implement it to declare all the abstract interface methods.
b. can be used in place of an abstract class when there is no default implementation
to inherit.
c. is declared in a file by itself and is saved in a file with the same name as the
interface followed by the .java extension.
d. can be instantiated.
Ans: d. can be instantiated.

Section 10.9.1 Developing a Payable Hierarchy

10.9.1 Q1: The UML distinguishes an interface from other classes by placing the
word “interface” in above the interface name.
a. italics.
b. carets.
c. guillemets.
d. bold.
Ans: c. guillemets.

Section 10.9.2 Interface Payable

10.9.2 Q1: Interfaces can have methods.

a. 0
b. 1
c. 2
d. any number of
Ans: d. any number of

Section 10.9.3 Class Invoice

10.9.3 Q1: Which keyword is used to specify that a class will define the methods of
an interface?
a. uses
b. implements
c. defines
d. extends
Ans: b. implements

10.9.3 Q2: Which of the following is not possible?

a. A class that implements two interfaces.
© Copyright 1992-2015 by Deitel & Associates, Inc. and Pearson Education, Inc.
b. A class that inherits from two classes.
c. A class that inherits from one class, and implements an interface.
d. All of the above are possible.
Ans: b. A class that inherits from two classes.

Section 10.9.4 Modifying Class Employee to

Implement Interface Payable

10.9.4 Q1: A class that implements an interface but does not declare all of the
interface’s methods must be declared ________.
a. public.
b. interface.
c. abstract.
d. final.
Ans: c. abstract.

Section 10.9.5 Modifying Class SalariedEmployee

for Use in the Payable Hierarchy
10.9.5 Q1: Which of the following statements is false?
a. An advantage of inheritance over interfaces is that only inheritance provides the is-a
relationship.
b. Objects of any subclass of a class that implements an interface can also be thought of
as objects of that interface type.
c. When a method parameter is declared with a subclass or interface type, the method
processes the object passed as an argument polymorphically.
d. All objects have the methods of class Object.
ANS: a. An advantage of inheritance over interfaces is that only inheritance
provides the is-a relationship. Actually, when a class implements an interface, the
same is-a relationship provided by inheritance applies.

Section 10.9.6 Using Interface Payable to Process

Invoices and Employees Polymorphically
10.9.6 Q1: Which of the following statements is false?
a. References to interface types do not have access to method toString.
b. Method toString can be invoked implicitly on any object.
c. With inheritance, classes and their inherited classes tend to be very similar.
d. Dramatically different classes can often meaningfully implement the same interface.

© Copyright 1992-2015 by Deitel & Associates, Inc. and Pearson Education, Inc.
ANS: a. References to interface types do not have access to method toString.
Actually, all references, including those of interface types, refer to objects that
extend Object and therefore have a toString method.

Section 10.9.7 Some Common Interfaces of the Java

API
10.9.7: Q1: Which interface is used to identify classes whose objects can be written
to or read from some type of storage or transmitted across a network?
a. Comparable
b. Runnable
c. AutoCloseable
d. Serializable
ANS: d. Serializeable.

10.9.7: Q2: Which interface is specifically intended to be implemented by classes

that can be used with the try-with-resources statement?
a. Comparable
b. Runnable
c. AutoCloseable
d. Serializable
ANS: c. AutoCloseable.

Section 10.10 Java SE 8 Interface Enhancements

(No questions.)

Section 10.10.1 default Interface Methods

10.10.1 Q1: Which of the following statements is false?
a. In Java SE 8, an interface may declare default methods—that is, public methods
with concrete implementations that specify how an operation should be performed.
b. When a class implements an interface, the class receives the interface’s default
concrete implementations if it does not override them.
c. When you enhance an existing interface with default methods—any class that
implemented the original interface will break.
d. With default methods, you can declare common method implementations in
interfaces (rather than abstract classes), which gives you more flexibility in designing
your classes.
Ans: c. When you enhance an existing interface with default methods—any
class that implemented the original interface will break. Actually, when you
enhance an existing interface with default methods—any class that
implemented the original interface will not break—it’ll simply receive the
© Copyright 1992-2015 by Deitel & Associates, Inc. and Pearson Education, Inc.
default method implementations.

Section 10.10.2 static Interface Methods

10.10.2 Q1: Which of the following statements is false?
a. Prior to Java SE 8, it was common to associate with an interface a class containing
static helper methods for working with objects that implemented the interface.
b. Class Collections contains many static helper methods for working with objects
that implement interfaces Collection, List, Set and more.
c. Collections method sort can sort objects of any class that implements interface
List.
d. With non-static interface methods, helper methods can now be declared directly
in interfaces rather than in separate classes.
Ans: d. With non-static interface methods, helper methods can now be declared
directly in interfaces rather than in separate classes. Actually, it's with static
interface methods that helper methods can now be declared directly in
interfaces rather than in separate classes.

Section 10.10.3 Functional Interfaces

10.10.3 Q1: Which of the following statements is false?
a. As of Java SE 8, any interface containing only one method is known as a
functional interface.
b. There are many functional interfaces throughout the Java APIs.
c. Functional interfaces are used extensively with Java SE 8’s new lambda
capabilities.
d. Anonymous methods provide a shorthand notation for creating lambdas.
Ans: Anonymous methods provide a shorthand notation for creating lambdas.
Actually, lambdas provide a shorthand notation for creating anonymous
methods.

© Copyright 1992-2015 by Deitel & Associates, Inc. and Pearson Education, Inc.
Random documents with unrelated
content Scribd suggests to you:
 Alvida. Ladies, go sit you down amidst this bower,
And let the Eunuchs play you all asleep:
Put garlands made of roses on your heads,
And play the wantons, whilst I talk awhile.
Ladies. Thou beautiful of all the world, we will.
(Exeunt.)
Alvida. King of Cilicia, kind and courteous;
Like to thyself, because a lovely King;
Come lay thee down upon thy Mistress’ knee,
And I will sing and talk of Love to thee.
Cilicia. Most gracious Paragon of excellence,
It fits not such an abject wretch as I
To talk with Rasni’s Paramour and Love.
Alvida. To talk, sweet friend! who would not talk with thee?
Oh be not coy: art thou not only fair?
Come twine thine arms about this snow-white neck,
A love-nest for the Great Assyrian King.
Blushing I tell thee, fair Cilician Prince,
None but thyself can merit such a grace.
Cilica. Madam, I hope you mean not for to mock me.
Alvida. No, King, fair King, my meaning is to yoke thee,
Hear me but sing of Love: then by my sighs,
My tears, my glancing looks, my changed cheer,
Thou shalt perceive how I do hold thee dear.
Cilicia. Sing, Madam, if you please; but love in jest.
Alvida. Nay, I will love, and sigh at every jest.
(She sings.)
Beauty, alas! where wast thou born,
Thus to hold thyself in scorn,
When as Beauty kiss’d to wooe thee?
Thou by Beauty dost undo me.
Heigho, despise me not.
I and thou in sooth are one,
Fairer thou, I fairer none:
Wanton thou; and wilt thou, wanton,
Yield a cruel heart to plant on?
Do me right, and do me reason;
Cruelty is cursed treason.
Heigho, I love; Heigho, I love;
Heigho, and yet he eyes me not.
Cilicia. Madam your Song is passing passionate.
 Alvida. And wilt thou then not pity my estate?
Cilicia. Ask love of them who pity may impart.
Alvida. I ask of thee, sweet; thou hast stole my heart.
Cilicia. Your love is fixed on a greater King.
Alvida. Tut, women’s love—it is a fickle thing.
I love my Rasni for my dignity:
I love Cilician King for his sweet eye.
I love my Rasni, since he rules the world:
But more I love this Kingly little world.
How sweet he looks!—O were I Cynthia’s sphere,
And thou Endymion, I should hold thee dear:
Thus should mine arms be spread about thy neck,
Thus would I kiss my Love at every beck.
Thus would I sigh to see thee sweetly sleep:
And if thou wak’st not soon, thus would I weep:
And thus, and thus, and thus: thus much I love thee.

[From “Tethys’ Festival,” by Samuel Daniel, 1610.]

Song at a Court Masque.
Are they shadows that we see
And can shadows pleasure give?—
Pleasures only shadows be,
Cast by bodies we conceive;
And are made the things we deem
In those figures which they seem.—
But these pleasures vanish fast,
Which by shadows are exprest:—
Pleasures are not, if they last;
In their passing is their best.
Glory is most bright and gay
In a flash, and so away.
Feed apace then, greedy eyes,
On the wonder you behold;
Take it sudden as it flies,
Tho’ you take it not to hold:
When your eyes have done their part,
Thought must lengthen it in the heart.
C. L.

[186] Jove, for Jehovah.

 Scylla and Charybdis.
Ancient and Present State.

Incidit in Scyllam, cupiens vitare Charybdis.

This Latin verse, which has become proverbial, is thus
translated:—
He falls on Scylla, who Charybdis shuns.
The line has been ascribed to Ovid; it is not, however, in that or
any other classic poet, but has been derived from Philippe Gualtier, a
modern French writer of Latin verses. Charybdis is a whirlpool in the
straits of Messina, on the coast of Sicily, opposite to Scylla, a
dangerous rock on the coast of Italy. The danger to which mariners
were exposed by the whirlpool is thus described by Homer in Pope’s
translation:
Dire Scylla there a scene of horror forms,
And here Charybdis fills the deep with storms;
When the tide rushes from her rumbling caves,
The rough rock roars; tumultuous boil the waves:
They toss, they foam, a wild confusion raise,
Like waters bubbling o’er the fiery blaze:
Eternal mists obscure the aërial plain,
And high above the rock she spouts the main.
When in her gulfs the rushing sea subsides,
She drains the ocean with the refluent tides.
The rock rebellows with a thundering sound;
Deep, wondrous deep, below appears the ground.
Virgil imagines the origin of this terrific scene:
 That realm of old, a ruin huge, was rent
In length of ages from the continent.
With force convulsive burst the isle away;
Through the dread opening broke the thund’ring sea:
At once the thund’ring sea Sicilia tore,
And sunder’d from the fair Hesperian shore;
And still the neighbouring coasts and towns divides
With scanty channels, and contracted tides.
Fierce to the right tremendous Scylla roars,
Charybdis on the left the flood devours.
Pitt.
A great earthquake in the year 1783 diminished the perils of the
pass.[187] Thirteen years before this event, which renders the scene
less poetical, Brydone thus describes
Scylla.
May 19, 1770. Found ourselves within half a mile of the coast of
Sicily, which is low, but finely variegated. The opposite coast of
Calabria is very high, and the mountains are covered with the finest
verdure. It was almost a dead calm, our ship scarce moving half a
mile in an hour, so that we had time to get a complete view of the
famous rock of Scylla, on the Calabrian side, Cape Pylorus on the
Sicilian, and the celebrated Straits of the Faro that runs between
them. Whilst we were still some miles distant from the entry of the
Straits, we heard the roaring of the current, like the noise of some
large impetuous river confined between narrow banks. This
increased in proportion as we advanced, till we saw the water in
many places raised to a considerable height, and forming large
eddies or whirlpools. The sea in every other place was as smooth as
glass. Our old pilot told us, that he had often seen ships caught in
these eddies, and whirled about with great rapidity, without obeying
the helm in the smallest degree. When the weather is calm, there is
little danger; but when the waves meet with this violent current, it
makes a dreadful sea. He says, there were five ships wrecked in this
spot last winter. We observed that the current set exactly for the
rock of Scylla, and would infallibly have carried any thing thrown into
it against that point; so that it was not without reason the ancients
have painted it as an object of such terror. It is about a mile from
the entry of the Faro, and forms a small promontory, which runs a
little out to sea, and meets the whole force of the waters, as they
come out of the narrowest part of the Straits. The head of this
promontory is the famous Scylla. It must be owned that it does not
altogether come up to the formidable description that Homer gives
of it; the reading of which (like that of Shakspeare’s Cliff) almost
makes one’s head giddy. Neither is the passage so wondrous narrow
and difficult as he makes it. Indeed it is probable that the breadth of
it is greatly increased since his time, by the violent impetuosity of
the current. And this violence too must have always diminished, in
proportion as the breadth of the channel increased.
Our pilot says, there are many small rocks that show their heads
near the base of the large ones. These are probably the dogs that
are described as howling round the monster Scylla. There are
likewise many caverns that add greatly to the noise of the water, and
tend still to increase the horror of the scene. The rock is near two
hundred feet high. There is a kind of castle or fort built on its
summit; and the town of Scylla, or Sciglio, containing three or four
hundred inhabitants, stands on its south side, and gives the title of
prince to a Calabrese family.
Charybdis.
The harbour of Messina is formed by a small promontory or neck
of land that runs off from the east end of the city, and separates that
beautiful basin from the rest of the Straits. The shape of this
promontory is that of a reaping-hook, the curvature of which forms
the harbour, and secures it from all winds. From the striking
resemblance of its form, the Greeks, who never gave a name that
did not either describe the object or express some of its most
remarkable properties, called this place Zancle, or the Sickle, and
feigned that the sickle of Saturn fell on this spot, and gave it its
form. But the Latins, who were not quite so fond of fable, changed
its name to Messina, (from Messis, a harvest,) because of the great
fertility of its fields. It is certainly one of the safest harbours in the
world after ships have got in; but it is likewise one of the most
difficult access. The celebrated gulf or whirlpool of Charybdis lies
near to its entry, and often occasions such an intestine and irregular
motion in the water, that the helm loses most of its power, and ships
have great difficulty to get in, even with the fairest wind that can
blow. This whirlpool, I think, is probably formed by the small
promontory I have mentioned; which contracting the Straits in this
spot, must necessarily increase the velocity of the current; but no
doubt other causes, of which we are ignorant, concur, for this will by
no means account for all the appearances which it has produced.
The great noise occasioned by the tumultuous motion of the waters
in this place, made the ancients liken it to a voracious sea-monster
perpetually roaring for its prey; and it has been represented by their
authors, as the most tremendous passage in the world. Aristotle
gives a long and a formidable description of it in his 125th chapter
De Admirandis, which I find translated in an old Sicilian book I have
got here. It begins, “Adeo profundum, horridumque spectaculum,
&c.” but it is too long to transcribe. It is likewise described by Homer,
12th of the Odyssey; Virgil, 3d Æneid; Lucretius, Ovid, Sallust,
Seneca, as also by many of the old Italian and Sicilian poets, who all
speak of it in terms of horror; and represent it as an object that
inspired terror, even when looked on at a distance. It certainly is not
now so formidable; and very probably, the violence of this motion,
continued for so many ages, has by degrees worn smooth the
rugged rocks and jutting shelves, that may have intercepted and
confined the waters. The breadth of the Straits too, in this place, I
make no doubt is considerably enlarged. Indeed, from the nature of
things it must be so; the perpetual friction occasioned by the current
must wear away the bank on each side, and enlarge the bed of the
water.
The vessels in this passage were obliged to go as near as
possible to the coast of Calabria, in order to avoid the suction
occasioned by the whirling of the waters in this vortex; by which
means when they came to the narrowest and most rapid part of the
Straits, betwixt Cape Pelorus and Scylla, they were in great danger
of being carried upon that rock. From whence the proverb, still
applied to those, who in attempting to avoid one evil fall into
another.
There is a fine fountain of white marble on the key, representing
Neptune holding Scylla and Charybdis chained, under the
emblematical figures of two sea-monsters, as represented by the
poets.
The little neck of land, forming the harbour of Messina, is
strongly fortified. The citadel, which is indeed a very fine work, is
built on that part which connects it with the main land. The
farthermost point, which runs out to sea, is defended by four small
forts, which command the entry into the harbour. Betwixt these lie
the lazaret, and a lighthouse to warn sailors of their approach to
Charybdis, as that other on Cape Pelorus is intended to give them
notice of Scylla.
It is probably from these lighthouses (by the Greeks called
Pharoi) that the whole of this celebrated Strait has been
denominated the Faro of Messina.

According to Brydone, the hazard to sailors was less in his time

than the Nestor of song, and the poet of the Æneid, had depicted in
theirs. In 1824, Capt. W. H. Smyth, to whom a survey of the coast of
Sicily was intrusted by the lords of the Admiralty, published a
“Memoir” in 1824, with the latest and most authentic accounts of
these celebrated classic spots—viz.:
Scylla.
As the breadth across this celebrated strait has been so often
disputed, I particularly state, that the Faro Tower is exactly six
thousand and forty-seven English yards from that classical bugbear,
the Rock of Scylla, which, by poetical fiction, has been depicted in
such terrific colours, and to describe the horrors of which, Phalerion,
a painter, celebrated for his nervous representation of the awful and
the tremendous, exerted his whole talent. But the flights of poetry
can seldom bear to be shackled by homely truth, and if we are to
receive the fine imagery, that places the summit of this rock in
clouds brooding eternal mists and tempests—that represents it as
inaccessible, even to a man provided with twenty hands and twenty
feet, and immerses its base among ravenous sea-dogs;—why not
also receive the whole circle of mythological dogmas of Homer, who,
though so frequently dragged forth as an authority in history,
theology, surgery, and geography, ought in justice to be read only as
a poet. In the writings of so exquisite a bard, we must not expect to
find all his representations strictly confined to a mere accurate
narration of facts. Moderns of intelligence, in visiting this spot, have
gratified their imaginations, already heated by such descriptions as
the escape of the Argonauts, and the disasters of Ulysses, with
fancying it the scourge of seamen, and that in a gale its caverns
‘roar like dogs;’ but I, as a sailor, never perceived any difference
between the effect of the surges here, and on any other coast, yet I
have frequently watched it closely in bad weather. It is now, as I
presume it ever was, a common rock, of bold approach, a little worn
at its base, and surmounted by a castle, with a sandy bay on each
side. The one on the south side is memorable for the disaster that
happened there during the dreadful earthquake of 1783, when an
overwhelming wave (supposed to have been occasioned by the fall
of part of a promontory into the sea) rushed up the beach, and, in
its retreat, bore away with it upwards of two thousand people.
Charybdis.
Outside the tongue of land, or Braccio di St. Rainiere, that forms
the harbour of Messina, lies the Galofaro, or celebrated vortex of
Charybdis, which has, with more reason than Scylla, been clothed
with terrors by the writers of antiquity. To the undecked boats of the
Rhegians, Locrians, Zancleans, and Greeks, it must have been
formidable; for, even in the present day, small craft are sometimes
endangered by it, and I have seen several men-of-war, and even a
seventy four gun ship, whirled round on its surface; but, by using
due caution, there is generally very little danger or inconvenience to
be apprehended. It appears to be an agitated water, of from seventy
to ninety fathoms in depth, circling in quick eddies. It is owing
probably to the meeting of the harbour and lateral currents with the
main one, the latter being forced over in this direction by the
opposite point of Pezzo. This agrees in some measure with the
relation of Thucydides, who calls it a violent reciprocation of the
Tyrrhene and Sicilian seas; and he is the only writer of remote
antiquity I remember to have read, who has assigned this danger its
true situation, and not exaggerated its effects. Many wonderful
stories are told respecting this vortex, particularly some said to have
been related by the celebrated diver, Colas, who lost his life here. I
have never found reason, however, during my examination of this
spot, to believe one of them.

[187] Bourn’s Gazetteer.

For the Table Book.

A FRAGMENT.
From Cornelius May’s “Journey To The Greate Markett at
Olympus”—“Seven Starrs of Witte.”
One daye when tired with worldly toil,
Upp to the Olympian mounte
I sped, as from soul-cankering care,
Had ever been my wonte;
And there the gods assembled alle
I founde, O strange to tell!
Chaffering, like chapmen, and around
The wares they had to sell.
Eache god had sample of his goodes,
Which he displaied on high;
And cried, “How lack ye?” “What’s y’re neede?”
To every passer by.
Quoth I, “What have you here to sell?
To purchase being inclined;”
Said one, “We’ve art and science here,
And every gifte of minde.”
“What coin is current here?” I asked,
Spoke Hermes in a trice,
“Industrie, perseverence, toile,
And life the highest price.”
I saw Apollo, and went on,
Liking his wares of olde;
“Come buy,” said he, “this lyre of mine,
I’ll pledge it sterling golde;
This is the sample of its worthe,
’Tis cheape at life, come buy!”
So saying, he drew olde Homer forth,
And placed him ’neath my eye.
I turn’d aside, where in a row
Smalle bales high piled up stood;
Tyed rounde with golden threades of life.
And eache inscribed with blood,
“Travell to far and foreign landes;”
“The knowledge of the sea;”
“Alle beastes, and birdes, and creeping thinges,
And heaven’s immensity;”
“Unshaken faithe when alle men change,”
“The patriot’s holy heart;”
“The might of woman’s love to stay
When alle besides departe.”
I next saw things soe strange of forme,
Their names I mighte not knowe,
Unlike aught either in heaven or earthe,
 Unlike aught either in heaven or earthe,
Or in the deeps below;
Then Hermes to my thoughte replied,
“Strange as these thinges appeare,
Gigantic power, the mighte of arte
And science are laide here;
Yeare after yeare of toile and thoughte
Can buy these stores alone;
Yet boughte, how neare the gods is man,
What knowledge is made known!
The power and nature of all thinges,
Fire, aire, and earthe, and flood.
Known and made subject to man’s will
For evill or for good.”
Next look’d I in a darksome den,
Webbed o’er with spider’s thread,
Where bookes were piled, and on eache booke
I “metaphysics” read;
Spoke Hermes, “Friend, the price of these
Is puzzling of the brain,
A gulf of words which, who gets in,
Can ne’er get oute again.”
I then saw “law,” piled up alofte,
And asked its price to know;
“Its price is, conscience and good name,”
Said Hermes, whispering low.
Nexte, “Physic and divinity,”
I stood as I was loth,
To take or leave, with curling lip,
Said Hermes, “Quackery, both!”
“Now, friend,” said I, “since of your wares
You no good thing can telle,
You are the honestest chapman
That e’er had wares to selle.”
* * * *

DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND:

OR,

MANNERS OF LONDON MERCHANTS A HUNDRED YEARS AGO.

 Tempore mutato de nobis fabula narratur.
Decio, a man of great figure, that had large commissions for
sugar from several parts beyond sea, treats about a considerable
parcel of that commodity with Alcander, an eminent West India
merchant; both understood the market very well, but could not
agree. Decio was a man of substance, and thought nobody ought to
buy cheaper than himself. Alcander was the same, and not wanting
money, stood for his price. Whilst they were driving their bargain at
a tavern near the Exchange, Alcander’s man brought his master a
letter from the West Indies, that informed him of a much greater
quantity of sugars coming for England than was expected. Alcander
now wished for nothing more than to sell at Decio’s price, before the
news was public; but being a cunning fox, that he might not seem
too precipitant, nor yet lose his customer, he drops the discourse
they were upon, and putting on a jovial humour, commends the
agreeableness of the weather; from whence falling upon the delight
he took in his gardens, invites Decio to go along with him to his
country house, that was not above twelve miles from London. It was
in the month of May, and as it happened upon a Saturday in the
afternoon, Decio, who was a single man, and would have no
business in town before Tuesday, accepts of the other’s civility, and
away they go in Alcander’s coach. Decio was splendidly entertained
that night and the day following; the Monday morning, to get
himself an appetite, he goes to take the air upon a pad of
Alcander’s, and coming back meets with a gentleman of his
acquaintance, who tells him news was come the night before that
the Barbadoes fleet was destroyed by a storm; and adds, that before
he came out, it had been confirmed at Lloyd’s coffee-house, where it
was thought sugars would rise twenty-five per cent. by change time.
Decio returns to his friend, and immediately resumes the discourse
they had broke off at the tavern. Alcander who, thinking himself sure
of his chap, did not design to have moved it till after dinner, was
very glad to see himself so happily prevented; but how desirous
soever he was to sell, the other was yet more eager to buy; yet both
of them afraid of one another, for a considerable time counterfeited
all the indifference imaginable, till at last Decio, fired with what he
had heard, thought delays might prove dangerous, and throwing a
guinea upon the table, struck the bargain at Alcander’s price. The
next day they went to London; the news proved true, and Decio got
five hundred pounds by his sugars. Alcander, whilst he had strove to
overreach the other, was paid in his own coin: yet all this is called
fair dealing; but I am sure neither of them would have desired to be
done by, as they did to each other.
Fable of the Bees, 1725.

CHILTERN HUNDREDS.
The acceptance of this office, or stewardship, vacates a seat in
parliament, but without any emolument or profit. Chiltern is a ridge
of chalky hills crossing the county of Bucks, a little south of the
centre, reaching from Tring in Hertfordshire to Henly in Oxford. This
district belongs to the crown, and from time immemorial has given
title to the nominal office of stewards of the Chiltern hundreds. Of
this office, as well as the manor of East Hundred, in Berks, it is
remarkable, that although frequently conferred upon members of
parliament, it is not productive either of honour or emolument; being
granted at the request of any member of that house, merely to
enable him to vacate his seat by the acceptance of a nominal office
under the crown; and on this account it has frequently been granted
to three or four members a week.
 Tommy Bell of Houghton-le-Spring,
Durham.
This is an eccentric, good-humoured character—a lover of a
chirruping cup—and a favourite with the pitmen of Durham. He
dresses like them, and mixes and jokes with them; and his portrait
seems an appropriate illustration of the following paper, by a
gentleman of the north, well acquainted with their remarkable
manners.
 THE PITMAN.

For the Table Book.

“O the bonny pit laddie, the cannie pit laddie,
The bonny pit laddie for me, O!—
He sits in a hole, as black as a coal,
And brings all the white money to me, O!”
Old Pit Song.
Gentle Reader,—Whilst thou sittest toasting thy feet at the
glowing fuel in thy grate, watching in dreaming unconsciousness the
various shapes and fantastic forms appearing and disappearing in
the bright, red heat of thy fire—here a beautiful mountain, towering
with its glowing top above the broken and diversified valley beneath
—there a church, with its pretty spire peeping above an imagined
village; or, peradventure, a bright nob, assuming the ken of human
likeness, thy playful fancy picturing it the semblance of some distant
friend—I say, whilst thou art sitting in this fashion, dost thou ever
think of that race of mortals, whose whole life is spent beyond a
hundred fathoms below the surface of mother earth, plucking from
its unwilling bosom the materials of thy greatest comfort?
The pitman enables thee to set at nought the “pelting of the
pitiless storm,” and render a season of severity and pinching
bitterness, one of warmth, and kindly feeling, and domestic smiles.
If thou hast never heard of these useful and daring men who
“Contemn the terrors of the mine,
Explore the caverns, dark and drear,
Mantled around with deadly dew;
Where congregated vapours blue,
Fir’d by the taper glimmering near,
Bid dire explosion the deep realms invade,
And earth-born lightnings gleam athwart th’ infernal shade;”[188]
—who dwell in a valley of darkness for thy sake, and whose lives are
hazarded every moment in procuring the light and heat of the
flickering flame—listen with patience, if not with interest, to a short
account of them, from the pen of one who is not unmindful of
“The simple annals of the poor.”
 The pitmen, who are employed in bringing coals to the surface of
the earth, from immensely deep mines, for the London and
neighbouring markets, are a race entirely distinct from the peasantry
surrounding them. They are principally within a few miles of the river
Wear, in the county of Durham, and the river Tyne, which traces the
southern boundary of Northumberland. They reside in long rows of
one-storied houses, called by themselves “pit-rows,” built near the
chief entrance to the mine. To each house is attached a small
garden,
“For ornament or use,”
and wherein they pay so much attention to the cultivation of flowers,
that they frequently bear away prizes at floral exhibitions.
Within the memory of the writer, (and his locks are not yet
“silver’d o’er with age,”) the pitmen were a rude, bold, savage set of
beings, apparently cut off from their fellow men in their interests and
feelings; often guilty of outrage in their moments of ebrious mirth;
not from dishonest motives, or hopes of plunder, but from
recklessness, and lack of that civilization, which binds the wide and
ramified society of a great city. From the age of five or six years,
their children are immersed in the dark abyss of their lower worlds;
and when even they enjoy the “light of the blessed sun,” it is only in
the company of their immediate relations: all have the same
vocation, and all stand out, a sturdy band, separate and apart from
the motley mixture of general humanity.
The pitmen have the air of a primitive race. They marry almost
constantly with their own people; their boys follow the occupations
of their sires—their daughters, at the age of blooming and modest
maidenhood, linking their fate to some honest “neebor’s bairn:”
thus, from generation to generation, family has united with family,
till their population has become a dense mass of relationship, like
the clans of our northern friends, “ayont the Cheviot’s range.” The
dress of one of them is that of the whole people. Imagine a man, of
only middling stature, (few are tall or robust,) with several large blue
marks, occasioned by cuts, impregnated with coal-dust, on a pale
and swarthy countenance, a coloured handkerchief around his neck,
a “posied waistcoat” opened at the breast, to display a striped shirt
beneath, a short blue jacket, somewhat like, but rather shorter than
the jackets of our seamen, velvet breeches, invariably unbuttoned
and untied at the knee, on the “tapering calf” a blue worsted
stocking, with white clocks, and finished downwards by a long, low-
quartered shoe, and you have a pitman before you, equipped for his
Saturday’s cruise to “canny Newcastle,” or for his Sabbath’s gayest
holiday.
On a Saturday evening you will see a long line of road, leading to
the nearest large market town, grouped every where with pitmen
and their wives or “lasses,” laden with large baskets of the
“stomach’s comforts,” sufficient for a fortnight’s consumption. They
only are paid for their labour at such intervals; and their weeks are
divided into what they term “pay week,” and “bauf week,” (the
etymology of “bauf,”[189] I leave thee, my kind reader, to find out.)—
All merry and happy—trudging home with their spoils—not
unfrequently the thrifty husband is seen “half seas over,” wrestling
his onward way with an obstinate little pig, to whose hind leg is
attached a string, as security for allegiance, while ever and anon this
third in the number of “obstinate graces,” seeks a sly opportunity of
evading its unsteady guide and effecting a retreat over the road, and
“Geordie” (a common name among them) attempts a masterly
retrograde reel to regain his fugitive. A long cart, lent by the owners
of the colliery for the purpose, is sometimes filled with the women
and their marketings, jogging homeward at a smart pace; and from
these every wayfarer receives a shower of taunting, coarse jokes,
and the air is filled with loud, rude merriment. Pitmen do not
consider it any deviation from propriety for their wives to accompany
them to the alehouses of the market town, and join their husbands
in their glass and pint. I have been amused by peeping through the
open window of a pothouse, to see parties of them, men and
women, sitting round a large fir table, talking, laughing, smoking,
and drinking con amore; and yet these poor women are never
addicted to excessive drinking. The men, however, are not
particularly abstemious when their hearts are exhilarated with the
bustle of a town.
 When the pitman is about to descend to the caverns of his
labour, he is dressed in a checked flannel jacket, waistcoat, and
trowsers, with a bottle or canteen slung across his shoulders, and a
satchell or haversack at his side, to hold provender for his support
during his subterrene sojourn. At all hours, night and day, groups of
men and boys are seen dressed in this fashion wending their way to
their colliery, some carrying sir Humphrey Davy’s (called by them
“Davy’s”) safety-lamp, ready trimmed, and brightened for use. They
descend the pit by means of a basket or “corfe,” or merely by
swinging themselves on to a chain, suspended at the extreme end of
the cordage, and are let down, with inconceivable rapidity, by a
steam-engine. Clean and orderly, they coolly precipitate themselves
into a black, smoking, and bottomless-looking crater, where you
would think it almost impossible human lungs could play, or blood
dance through the heart. At nearly the same moment you see others
coming up, as jetty as the object of their search, drenched and tired.
I have stood in a dark night, near the mouth of a pit, lighted by a
suspended grate, filled with flaring coals, casting an unsteady but
fierce reflection on the surrounding swarthy countenances; the pit
emitting a smoke as dense as the chimney of a steam-engine; the
men, with their sooty and grimed faces, glancing about their
sparkling eyes, while the talking motion of their red lips disclosed
rows of ivory; the steam-engines clanking and crashing, and the
hissing from the huge boilers, making a din, only broken by the loud,
mournful, and musical cry of the man stationed at the top of the pit
“shaft,” calling down to his companions in labour at the bottom.
This, altogether, is a scene as wild and fearful as a painter or a poet
could wish to see.
All have heard of the dreadful accidents in coal-mines from
explosions of fire-damp, inundations, &c., yet few have witnessed
the heart-rending scenes of domestic calamity which are the
consequence. Aged fathers, sons, and sons’ sons, a wide branching
family, all are sometimes swept away by a fell blast, more sudden,
and, if possible, more terrible, than the deadly Sirocca of the desert.
Never shall I forget one particular scene of family destruction. I
was passing along a “pit-row” immediately after a “firing,” as the
explosion of fire-damp is called, when I looked into one of the
houses, and my attention became so rivetted, that I scarcely knew I
had entered the room. On one bed lay the bodies of two men, burnt
to a livid ash colour; the eldest was apparently sixty, the other about
forty—father and son:—on another bed, in the same room, were
“streaked” three fine boys, the oldest not more than fifteen—sons of
the younger dead—all destroyed at the same instant by the same
destructive blast, let loose from the mysterious hand of Providence:
and I saw—Oh God! I shall never forget—I saw the vacant,
maddened countenance, and quick, wild glancing eye of the
fatherless, widowed, childless being, who in the morning was smiling
in her domestic felicity; whose heart a few hours before was
exultingly beating as she looked on her “gudeman and bonny
bairns.” Before the evening sun had set she was alone in the world;
without a prop for her declining age, and every endearing tie woven
around her heart was torn and dissevered. I passed into the neat
little garden—it was the spring time—part of the soil was fresh
turned up, and some culinary plants were newly set:—these had
been the morning work of the younger father—his spade was
standing upright in the earth at the last spot he had laboured at; he
had left it there, ready for the evening’s employment:—the garden
was yet blooming with all the delightful freshness of vernal
vegetation its cultivator was withered and dead—his spade was at
hand for another to dig its owner’s grave.
Amidst all their dangers, the pitmen are a cheerful, industrious
race of men. They were a few years ago much addicted to gambling,
cock-fighting, horse-racing, &c. Their spare hours are diverted now
to a widely different channel; they are for the most part members of
the Wesleyan sects; and, not unfrequently in passing their humble
but neat dwellings, instead of brawls and fights you hear a peaceful
congregation of worshippers, uttering their simple prayers; or the
loud hymn of praise breaking the silence of the eventide.
The ancient custom of sword-dancing at Christmas is kept up in
Northumberland, exclusively by these people. They may be
constantly seen at that festive season with their fiddler, bands of
swordsmen, Tommy and Bessy, most grotesquely dressed,
performing their annual routine of warlike evolutions. I have never
had the pleasure of seeing the Every-Day Book, but I have no doubt
this custom has there been fully illustrated.
Ψ

[188] Huddesford.
[189] Quære? Whether some wag has not originally given the pitman the
benefit of this term from bafler or baffolier, to mock or affront; “aiblins,” it
may be a corruption of our English term “balk,” to disappoint.

Some years ago a Tynemouth vessel, called the “Northern Star,”

was lost, and the following ballad made on the occasion: the
memory of a lady supplies the words—
 For the Table Book.
THE NORTHERN STAR.
The Northern Star
Sail’d over the bar,
Bound to the Baltic sea—
In the morning grey
She stretch’d away,—
’Twas a weary day to me.
For many an hour
In sleet and shower
By the lighthouse rock I stray,
And watch till dark
For the winged bark
Of him that is far away.
The castle’s bound
I wander round
Amidst the grassy graves,[190]
But all I hear
Is the north wind drear,
And all I see are the waves.
Oh roam not there
Thou mourner fair,
Nor pour the useless tear,
Thy plaint of woe
Is all below—
The dead—they cannot hear.
The Northern Star
Is set afar,
Set in the Baltic sea,
And the waves have spread
The sandy bed,
That holds thy love from thee.

[190] Tynemouth-castle, the grounds of which are used as a cemetery.

British Mines.
 For the Table Book.
Mines of gold and silver, sufficient to reward the conqueror, were
found in Mexico and Peru; but the island of Britain never produced
enough of the precious metals to compensate the invader for the
trouble of slaughtering our ancestors.
Camden mentions gold and silver mines in Cumberland, a mine
of silver in Flintshire, and of gold in Scotland. Speaking of the copper
mines of Cumberland, he says that veins of gold and silver were
found intermixed with the common ore; and in the reign of Elizabeth
gave birth to a suit at law between the earl of Northumberland and
another claimant.
Borlase, in his History of Cornwall, relates, “that so late as the
year 1753 several pieces of gold were found in what the miners call
stream tin; and silver is now got in considerable quantity from
several of our lead mines.”
A curious paper, concerning the gold mines of Scotland, is given
by Mr. Pennant, in the Appendix, No. 10. to his second part of a
“Tour in Scotland, in 1772;” but still there never was sufficient gold
and silver enough to constitute the price of victory. The other
metals, such as tin, copper, iron, and lead, are found in abundance
at this day; antimony and manganese in small quantities.[191]
Of the copper mines now working in Cornwall, “Dolcoath,”
situated near Camborn, is the deepest, having a 220 fathom level
under the adit, which is 40 fathoms from the surface; so that the
total depth is 260 fathoms, or 1560 feet: it employs upwards of 1000
persons. The “Consolidated Mines,” in Gwennap, are the most
productive perhaps in the world, yielding from 10l. to 12000l. a
month of copper ore, with a handsome profit to the shareholders.
“Great St. George” is the only productive mine near St. Agnes, and
the only one producing metal to the “English Mining Association.”
Of the tin mines, “Wheal Nor,” in Breague, is an immense
concern, producing an amazing quantity, and a large profit to the
company. “Carnon Stream,” near Perran, is now yielding a good
profit on its capital. It has a shaft sunk in the middle of the stream.
The washings down from so many mines, the adits of which run in
this stream, bring many sorts of metal, with some curious bits of
gold.
Of late years the mine called Wheal Rose, and some others
belonging to sir Christopher Hawkins, have been the most prolific of
lead, mixed with a fair proportion of silver. Wheal Penhale, Wheal
Hope, and others, promise favourably.
As yet Wheal Sparnon has not done much in cobalt; the quality
found in that mine is very excellent, but quantity is the “one thing
needful.”
The immense quantity of coals consumed in the numerous fire-
engines come from Wales; the vessels convey the copper ore, as it is
brought by the copper companies, to their smelting works: it is a
back freight for the shipping.
Altogether, the number of individuals who derive their living by
means of the mineral district of Cornwall must be incalculable; and it
is a great satisfaction to know, that this county suffered less during
the recent bad times than perhaps any other county.
Sam Sam’s Son.
April 30, 1827.
 [191] A Missouri paper states, that copper is in such abundance and
purity, from the falls of St. Anthony to Lake Superior, that the Indians
make hatchets and ornaments of it, without any other instrument than the
hammer. The mines still remain in the possession of the Indians.

Angling
AT THAMES DITTON.

For the Table Book.

Thames Ditton is a pretty little village, delightfully situated on the
banks of the Thames, between Kingston and Hampton Court palace.
During the summer and autumn, it is the much-frequented resort of
the followers of Isaac Walton’s tranquil occupation.
The Swan inn, only a few paces from the water’s edge,
remarkable for the neatness and comfort of its appearance, and for
the still more substantial attractions of its internal accommodation, is
kept by Mr. John Locke, a most civil, good-natured, and obliging
creature; and, what is not of slight importance to a bon-vivant, he
has a wife absolutely incomparable in the preparation of “stewed
eels,” and not to be despised in the art of cooking a good beef-steak,
or a mutton-chop.
But what is most remarkable in this place is its appellation of
“lying Ditton”—from what reason I have ever been unable to
discover, unless it has been applied by those cockney anglers, who,
chagrined at their want of sport, have bestowed upon it that very
opprobrious designation; and perhaps not entirely without
foundation for when they have been unsuccessful in beguiling the
finny tribe, the fishermen, who attend them in their punts, are
always prepared to assign a cause for their failure; as that the water
is too low—or not sufficiently clear—or too muddy—or there is a
want of rain—or there has been too much of that element—or—any
thing else—except a want of skill in the angler himself, who patiently
sits in his punt, watching the course of his float down the stream, or
its gentle diving under the water, by which he flatters himself he has
a bite, listening to the stories of his attendant, seated in calm
indifference at his side, informing him of the mortality produced
among the gelid tribe by the noxious gas which flows into the river
from the metropolis, the alarming effects from the motion of the
steam-boats on their fishy nerves, and, above all, from their feeding
at that season of year on the green weeds at the bottom.
However, there are many most skilful lovers of the angle who pay
weekly, monthly, or annual visits to this retired spot; amongst whom
are gentlemen of fortune, professional men, and respectable
tradesmen. After the toils of the day, the little rooms are filled with
aquatic sportsmen, who have left the cares of life, and the great city
behind them, and associate in easy conversation, and unrestrained
mirth.
One evening last summer there alighted from the coach a
gentleman, apparently of the middle age of life, who first seeing his
small portmanteau, fishing-basket, and rods safely deposited with
the landlord, whom he heartily greeted, walked into the room, and
shaking hands with one or two of his acquaintances, drew a chair to
the window, which he threw up higher than it was before; and, after
surveying with a cheerful countenance the opposite green park, the
clear river with its sedgy islands, and the little flotilla of punts,
whose tenants were busily engaged on their gliding floats, he
seemed as delighted as a bird that has regained his liberty: then,
taking from his pocket a paper, he showed its contents to me, who
happened to be seated opposite, and asked if I was a connoisseur in
“single hair;” for, if I was, I should find it the best that could be
procured for love or money. I replied that I seldom fished with any
but gut-lines; yet it appeared, as far as I could judge, to be very
fine. “Fine!” said he, “it would do for the filament of a spider’s-web;
and yet I expect to-morrow to kill with it a fish of a pound weight. I
recollect,” continued he, “when I was but a tyro in the art of angling,
once fishing with an old gentleman, whose passion for single-hair
was so great, that, when the season of the year did not permit him
to pursue his favourite diversion, he spent the greatest part of his
time in travelling about from one end of the kingdom to the other,
seeking the best specimens of this invaluable article. On his visits to
the horse-dealers, instead of scrutinizing the horses in the
customary way, by examining their legs, inquiring into their points
and qualities, or trying their paces, to the unspeakable surprise of
the venders, he invariably walked up to the nether extremities of the
animals, and seized hold of their tails, by which means he was
enabled to select a capital assortment of hairs for his ensuing
occupation.”
After the new-comer had finished his amusing anecdote, the
noise of a numerous flock of starlings, which had assembled among
the trees in the park preparatory to their evening adjournment to
roost, attracted his notice by the babel-like confusion of their shrill
notes, and led him again to entertain us with a story touching their
peculiarities.
“I remember,” said he, “when I was at a friend’s house in
Yorkshire last autumn, there were such immense numbers of these
birds, who sought their sustenance by day on the neighbouring
marshes, and at night came to roost in his trees, that at length there
was not room for their entire accommodation; the consequence of
which was, that it became a matter of necessity that a separation of
their numbers should take place—a part to other quarters, the
remainder to retain possession of their old haunts. If I might judge
from the conflicting arguments which their confused chatterings
seemed to indicate, the contemplated arrangement was not at all
relished by those who were doomed to separate from their
companions—a separation, however, did take place—but the exiles
would not leave the field undisputed. Birds, like aid-de-camps of an
army, flew from one side to the other—unceasing voices gave note
of dreadful preparation—and, at last, both sides took flight at the
same instant. The whirring sound of their wings was perfectly
deafening; when they had attained a great height in the air, the two
forces clashed together with the greatest impetuosity; immediately
the sky was obscured with an appearance like the falling of snow,
descending gradually to the earth, accompanied with a vast quantity
of bodies of the starlings, which had been speared through by
hostile beaks-they literally fell like hail. It was then growing rather
dusk; I could merely see the contending flocks far above me for
some time—it became darker—and I returned to narrate this
extraordinary aërial combat to my friend, who in the morning had
the curiosity to accompany me to the field of battle, where we
picked up, according to an accurate calculation, 1087 of these birds,
some quite dead, and others generally severely wounded, with an
amazing quantity of their feathers.”
I saw this amusing gentleman on the following morning sitting
quietly in his punt, exercising his single-hair skill, nearly opposite to
the little fishing-house.
E. J. H.
April, 1827.

TICKLING TROUT.

For the Table Book.

It is a liberty taken by poachers with the little brook running
through Castle Coombe, to catch trout by tickling. I instance the
practice there because I have there witnessed it, although it prevails
in other places. The person employed wades into the stream, puts
his bare arms into the hole where trout resort, slides his fingers
under the fish, feels its position, commences tickling, and the trout
falls gradually into his hand, and is thrown upon the grass. This is a
successful snare, destructive to the abundance of trout, and the
angler’s patient pleasure. The lovers of the “hook and eye” system
oppose these ticklish practices, and the ticklers, when caught, are
“punished according to law,” while the patrons of the “rod and line”
escape. Shakspeare may have hinted at retribution, when he said
“A thousand men the fishes gnawed upon.”
Pope tell us that men are
“Pleased with a feather, tickled with a straw.”
P.

THE CLERKS OF CORNWALL.

 1. In the last age there was a familiarity between the parson and
the clerk and the people, which our feelings of decorum would revolt
at, e. g.—“I have seen the ungodly flourish like a green bay
tree.”—“How can that be, maister?” said the clerk of St. Clement’s.
Of this I was myself an ear-witness.
2. At Kenwyn, two dogs, one of which was the parson’s, were
fighting at the west-end of the church; the parson, who was then
reading the second lesson, rushed out of the pew, and went down
and parted them, returned to his pew, and, doubtful where he had
left off, asked the clerk, “Roger, where was I?” “Why down parting
the dogs, maister,” said Roger.
3. At Mevagizzey, when non-resident clergymen officiated, it was
usual with the squire of the parish to invite them to dinner. Several
years ago, a non-resident clergyman was requested to do duty in the
church of Mevagizzey on a Sunday, when the Creed of St. Athanasius
is directed to be read. Before he had begun the service, the parish-
clerk asked him, whether he intended to read the Athanasian Creed
that morning. “Why?” said the clergyman. “Because if you do, no
dinner for you at the squire’s, at Penwarne.”
4. A very short time since, parish-clerks used to read the first
lesson. I once heard the St. Agnes clerk cry out, “At the mouth of
the burning viery vurnis,—Shadrac, Meshac, and Abednego, com
voath and com hether.” [Daniel, chap, iii.]
The clerk of Lamorran, in giving out the Psalm, “Like a timorous
bird to distant mountains fly,” always said, “Like a temmersum
burde, &c. &c.” with a shake of the head, and a quavering of the
voice, which could not but provoke risibility.[192]

[192] Rev. Mr. Polwhele’s Recollections.

Custom
OBSERVED BY THE
LORD LIEUTENANTS OF IRELAND.
 On the great road from London to West Chester, we find, at the
principal inns, the coats of arms of several lord lieutenants of
Ireland, framed, and hung up in the best rooms. At the bottom of
these armorial pictures (as I may call them) is a full display of all the
titles of the party, together with the date of the year when each
viceroyship commenced. I have often inquired the reason of this
custom, but never could procure a satisfactory answer. I do not
reprobate the idea of this relique of ancient dignity, as these heraldic
monuments were doubtless intended to operate as public evidences
of the passage of each lord-deputy to his delegated government.
They now seem only to be preserved for the gratification of the
vanity of the capital innkeepers, by showing to humble travellers that
such and such lord lieutenants did them the honour to stop at their
houses; and yet I will not say, but that for half-a-crown handsomely
offered to his excellency’s gentleman, they might likewise become
part of the furniture of every ale-house in Dunstable.
After fruitless inquiry, accident furnished me with the ground of
this custom, which now only serves to excite a little transitory
curiosity. Having occasion to look into sir Dudley Digge’s “Complete
Ambassador,” published in 1654, I was obliged to the editor for a
solution, who, in the preface, (signed A. H.,) speaking of the reserve
of the English ambassadors, in not making public their negotiations,
has this observation—“We have hardly any notion of them but by
their arms, which are hung up in inns where they passed.”
This paragraph at once accounts for the point before us, and is
sufficient, at the same time, to show that the custom was anciently,
and even in the seventeenth century, common to every ambassador,
though it now only survives with those who go in the greater and
more elevated line of royal representation to Ireland.
Samuel Pegge.[193]

[193] Curialia Miscellanea.

 For the Table Book.

THE BACHELOR’S PLAINT.

An Ode of the olden Time.

Hark! the curfew, friend to night,

Banishes the cheerful light;
Now the scholar, monk, and sage—
All by lamp that con the page—
All to whom the light is dear
Sigh that sullen knell to hear!
Labour now with day is done;
To the wave the weary sun
Rushes, from its cool to borrow
Vigour for his course to-morrow:
Yet, in kindness, scorning quite
Thus to rob the world of light,
He lends the moon his useful beams,
And through the night by proxy gleams.
Kine unyok’d, sheep safely penn’d,
Ploughmen, hind, and shepherd wend
To the hostel’s welcome latch,
From the tankard’s draught to snatch
Strength, relax’d, which, blithe of strain,
Deeds of day they act again!
Now the nightingale’s sad note
Through the listening air ’gins float,
Warning youth in warded tower,
Maiden in her greenwood bower;
’Tis the very witching time,
Dear alike to love and rhyme!
Every lover, at the strain,
Speeds the shady grove to gain,
Where awaits the treasur’d maid;
Where each care and toil’s repaid!
Each fond heart now lightly veers,
With alternate hopes and fears;
Each fond heart now sweetly glows,
With love’s rapturous joys and woes;
Each fond heart—ah, why not mine!—
Gently hails the day’s decline;
But alas! mine —woe is me!—
 But, alas! mine, woe is me!
Is benumb’d by apathy;
Is indifference’ dull throne—
There she reigns, unmov’d, alone!
There one stagnant calm presides,
Chilling all sweet feelings’ tides!
Ah, methinks, I fierce despair
Better than such calm could bear:
I have nought to hope or fear—
No emotion claims a tear—
No soft rapture wakes a smile,
Meeding centuries of toil!
Listless, sad, forlorn, I rove,
Feeling still the heart wants Love!
Nought to me can pleasure give,
Shadow of the dead I live!
No sweet maid’s consenting blush
On my cheek brings rapture’s flush!
No fond maiden’s tender tear
Thrills my soul with transports dear!
No kind maiden’s kiss bestows
Blest reward for all my woes!
No sweet maid’s approving smile
Beams my labours to beguile!
Best incentive Love can claim,
Leading age to wealth and fame.
A lone and lonely being I,
Only seem to live—to die!
With mankind my vacant heart
Feels as if it had no part!
Love, thy slave I’d rather be,
Than free, if this is being free!
Rather feel thy worst annoy,
Than live and never know thy joy!
Come, then, let thy keenest dart,
Drive this loath’d Freedom from my heart:
I’ll bear whole ages of thy pain,
One moment of thy bliss to gain!
W. T. M.
May, 1827.

BRUMMELLIANA.