The Sho
The instrument called Sho is blown with the mouth, and corresponds to the Chinese Cheng or Mouth Organ. The pipes are made of wood, with reed mouthpieces, and the notes are made by stopping the holes with the fingers. In some ways the construction is like that of a harmonium, but it is much more troublesome to play, and the performer, having to use his own breath to make the sounds, cannot sing at the same time. Unlike a harmonium also, it is difficult to keep in tune, and Miss Bird, a well-known traveller, tells of a concert at which the performer was obliged to be continually warming his instrument at a brazier of coals placed near. Some years ago a Japanese Commission was appointed to consider which of the national instruments were most suitable for use in schools; it rejected the Sho because its manufacture was troublesome and its tuning even worse.
Playing stick.
A smaller instrument of the same kind is also used in religious ceremonies, the 'the king,' made of one large block of 'yu,' suspended from an upright. It is played like the real 'king,' by being struck with a special stick or plectrum, and the tone, though less varied than that of the larger instrument, is equally deep and full.
Elephants attacking a granary
A True Anecdote. A traveller, who was making a tour in India some years back, tells us that in his wanderings he arrived at a village on the north border of the British dominions; near this stood a granary, in which was stored a large quantity of rice. The people of the place described to him how the granary had been attacked by a party of elephants which had somehow found out that this granary was full of rice. Early in the morning an elephant appeared at the granary, acting evidently as a scout or spy. When he found that the place was unprotected, he returned to the herd, which was waiting no great distance off. Two men happened to be close by, and they watched the herd approach in almost military order. Getting near the granary, the elephants stopped to examine it. Its walls were of solid brickwork; the entry was in the centre of the terraced roof, which could only be mounted by a ladder. To climb this was not possible, so they stood to consider. The alarmed spectators speedily climbed a banyan-tree, hiding themselves among its leafy branches, thus being out of view while they could watch the doings of the elephants. These animals surveyed the building all round; its thick walls were formidable, but the strength and sagacity of the elephants defied the obstacles. One of the largest of the herd took up a position at a corner of the granary, and pounded upon the wall with his tusks. When he began to feel tired, another took turn at the work, then another, till several of the bricks gave way. An opening once made was soon enlarged. Space being made for an elephant to enter, the herd divided into parties of three or four, since only a few could find room inside. When one party had eaten all they could, their place was taken by another. One of the elephants stood at a distance as sentinel. After all had eaten enough, by a shrill noise he gave the signal to retire, and the herd, flourishing their trunks, rushed off to the jungle.
The first Railway Journey in England
It was called the 'Locomotion.' George Stephenson stood ready to drive it as soon as the trucks, which a stationary engine was lowering down the slope by means of a wire rope, had been attached to it. In the first of these trucks came the Directors of the Railway Company and their friends, followed by twenty-one trucks (all open to the sky, like ordinary goods-trucks), loaded with various passengers, and finally six more waggons of coal. Such was the first train. A man on horseback, carrying a flag, having taken up his position in front of the 'Locomotion' to head the procession, the starting word was given, and with a hiss of steam, half drowned in the shouting of the crowd, the first railway journey ever made in England was begun.
A Madi village being removed
When Speke, a traveller who discovered one of the sources of the Nile, was returning homeward, and passing through the country of the Madi, near the head of the Albert Nyanza, he saw similar huts to those which I have just described. In one of his books there is an amusing picture of a Madi village removing. The greatest burden is a conical roof, which four men are carrying on their heads. Other men and women are carrying a few sticks or baskets, but the all-important thing is the roof. These roofs are easily lifted from their posts, and Speke once saw a number of Turkish traders take off the roofs of a village without permission, and carry them off to make a camp for themselves.
The Juruparis in casing
Of all the so-called musical instruments of the world, that known as the Juruparis, used by the Indians of the Rio Negro, seems to involve most misery to humanity in general. To women and girls the very sight of it means death in some form or other, usually by poison, and boys are strictly forbidden to see it until grown to manhood, and then only after a most severe preliminary course of fasting. The Juruparis is kept concealed in the bed of some stream far away in the gloomy forest, and wherever that river may wander, or however brightly its waters may sparkle in the sunny glades, no mortal who values his life may cool his parching lips with its freshness, or bathe his aching limbs in its clear depths. Only for solemn festivals is the Juruparis brought out by night and blown outside the place of meeting, and it is restored to its forest home immediately afterwards. The word Juruparis means 'demon,' and it is supposed that its mysteries date back to some pre-historic Indian tradition, as various tribes inhabiting the vast forests round the Amazon district practise weird ceremonies in honour of the demons. The Juruparis in casing. The Juruparis in casing. In form the Juruparis is a slender tube from four to five feet long, made from strips of palm wood. Close to the mouth is an oblong hole, and when the instrument is to be used a piece of curved Uaruma or Arrowroot wood is inserted into the opening, which is then nearly closed with wet clay.
Grain Huts
In some of the hilly districts of India we may see little grain-huts, the shape of bee-hives, which are raised upon posts. The natives of the Madi country, near the head of the Albert Nyanza, in Central Africa, make similar granaries of plastered wicker-work, which are supported upon four posts and have a thatched roof.
A Clay Grain Storehouse
A Clay Grain Storehouse In the tropical parts of Africa it is almost impossible to keep the grain from the harvest for more than a few months, and the natives save nothing from harvest to harvest, but eat it all up, rather than let it be consumed by the ants or spoiled by the rains. And thus, when the harvest fails, they are quickly reduced to starvation.
He placed the 'drum' on a chair, and practised diligently
What is to be done? Nothing could be more inconvenient. Easter-time, and so much new music to be played!' Master Frank Haydn, Master of the Orchestra at the parish church of Hamburg, in Southern Germany, all but tore his brown wig in his despair, at hearing of the death of the man who played the kettle-drum in his orchestra. 'I know of no one to take his place at such short notice,' he went on, though there were only his wife and little nephew to hear him. The nephew, Joseph Haydn by name, had only lately come into the choir-master's family. He was a child of six years old, but had already shown such wonderful musical genius, that his parents had decided to place him with his uncle, where he would have great opportunities for musical study. The little fellow now looked up from an old music book, for he could read music perfectly, and said timidly, 'I think I could manage the kettle-drum, uncle, if you would just show me a little how it should be played.' 'You, Joseph?' said the choir-master in surprise, as he looked down at the serious little face. 'It is not a violin, you know; if it were you could manage well enough, but you know nothing of kettle-drums.' 'Let me try, Uncle!' pleaded Joseph. Before long he had his wish, and both were in the big room over the church porch where the practices always took place. Joseph's little fingers seemed to hold the drum-sticks as if to the manner born, and after a short rehearsal of the music to be played on the festival, the old man felt an immense load lifted off his shoulders. 'Capital! capital!' he exclaimed. 'I shall not miss poor Schmidt now; your touch is crisper than his!' Then the door of the room was locked, and uncle and nephew returned home. Joseph, however, as Easter drew near, became very anxious, and longed for an opportunity for further practice on the drum. His fingers might not be skilful enough: he could be sure of the notes without practice, but could he handle the sticks properly? He dared not ask his uncle for leave to go into the choir-room, and he had no drum in the house. What could he do? Practise he must, or he would never feel sure of himself. 'I will make a drum!' said the little fellow; 'I have an idea.' There was a round basket in the out-house. It was generally used for flour, but it happened to be nearly empty now, and Joseph seized on this, as it was the shape of a drum; over it he stretched a clean dishcloth, fastening it as tightly as possible with string. 'It makes a beautiful drum!' he said joyfully, as he beat it with two sticks, and carrying his 'drum' into the parlour, he placed it on a chair, propped the music up in front of him, and practised the fingering diligently and noiselessly for an hour or more, till he felt quite sure of himself. Alas, for Joseph, however! He had been too absorbed in his drumming to notice the small quantity of flour which had been left in the basket. It was shaken out with each beat of the drum-sticks, and now lay thick on the velvet cover of the chair. Joseph got a whipping for his thoughtlessness, but that was nothing uncommon for children in the eighteenth century, and was soon forgotten. Easter arrived, and the little fellow played his drum so well, that for many years after he played that instrument in the choir.
The Forth Bridge
The Forth Bridge at the Present Day. Building the Bridge. Train crossing the Bridge. The mouth of the Forth has very nearly bitten Scotland in two, and anybody who wishes to travel from Edinburgh to Dunfermline would have to go a long way round if they objected to crossing the river. Formerly a great many people did object to this, because they knew that, although the voyage was only about a short mile, the great billows from the North Sea would meet them before it was over, and give them a very unpleasant time. So everybody who had anything to do with the Forth was willing that it should be spanned by a reliable bridge, and plans for carrying this into effect were frequently proposed. Indeed, arrangements were almost completed in 1879 for building a huge suspension bridge from shore to shore. The drawings were made, the estimates prepared, and the spades and trowels even beginning to work on the foundations, when, one sad December night, a terrible gale arose. All through the hours of darkness it roared and shrieked across the British Isles, working havoc upon sea and land, but, when morning came at last, few were prepared for the appalling catastrophe it had caused. Sweeping up the Firth of Tay, it had torn away a portion of the great railway bridge that crossed the inlet, and hurled it into the water. A train was passing over at the time, and plunged into the abyss with all its passengers. The terrible event shook public confidence, and we might almost say that the gale of that December night caught all the drawings and papers connected with the proposed suspension bridge over the Forth, and swept them from public favour. Immediately afterwards, Sir John Fowler and Mr. Benjamin Baker (both celebrated engineers) came forward with an alternative plan of which no one could doubt the strength. It may perhaps be described as an arch-suspension bridge, because the design includes the strength of both styles; but engineers themselves call it a cantilever bridge.
The Arpa
The Arpa or drum of Oceana is made of wood, and imitates the head and jaws of a crocodile, with a handle for carrying purposes. The head is covered with snake-skin, which sometimes gives it an unpleasantly real appearance. It is used by the natives of New Guinea, especially by those dwelling around the Gulf of Papua.
King Louis leaped fully armed into the sea
But after some delay from contrary winds, and a long wait at Cyprus, the French army landed in Egypt, where the first attack was to be made; King Louis leaped, fully armed, from his galley into the sea in his eagerness to reach the shore. The Saracens fled at first before the invading army, and the city of Damietta was taken almost without a blow. There the Queen, who had followed her husband, as our good Queen Eleanor did a few years later, was left with a sufficient garrison while the army moved onwards up the Nile.
Crossbow and Arrows used for Sport
Another name for the crossbow was 'arbalist,' and its arrows were called quarils, or bolts. These were made of various sorts of wood; about a dozen trees were used for the purpose, but ash-wood was thought to be the best. Generally the arrows had a tip of iron, shaped like a pyramid, pointed, though for shooting at birds the top was sometimes blunt, so that a bird might be struck down without being badly wounded. One old writer says that a great difference between the long-bow and the crossbow was, that success did not depend upon who pulled the lock—a child might do this as well as a man—but with the long-bow strength was everything. In fact, during the Tudor times, the kings specially encouraged the archers to practise shooting with the long-bow, and people were even forbidden to keep crossbows. The crossbow, however, when it had reached perfection, carried much further than the ordinary long-bow.
Ploughing in Syria
The life of a farmer in Syria and Palestine is very different from the life of a farmer in England. He does not live in an isolated farmhouse, in the midst of a number of enclosed fields, which he owns or rents, and which he cultivates at his own cost and for his own profit alone. The country is much too unsettled to permit families to dwell alone, and so they cluster in little villages for their common safety and defence. The cultivated lands of the villagers lie outside the village, and the most fertile ground is sometimes a mile or two away from the houses. The villagers are too poor to enclose each a farm for himself, and the farms are simply cultivated plots lying unenclosed in a great waste, which belongs, perhaps, to the Government, or to some great feudal lord. The ploughs used by these Syrian cultivators are little more than a bent wooden stock, having a long bar, by which it may be drawn. The lend of the stock is in shape somewhat like that which is formed by a human foot and leg, the foot being the 'share,' which scratches up the soil. That part which corresponds to the leg is prolonged upwards into a long handle, with the help of which the ploughman guides the plough. The bar by which the plough is drawn is attached to the inner or fore side of the bend, at the ankle, as it were. Two oxen of a small kind are, as a rule, attached to each plough.
A Contest with the Longbow
A Contest with the Longbow
Close on his heels
Boys in gym class