Entries from September 2005 ↓

A correspondent of the New York Evening Post, writing from Winnipeg, Manitoba, describes an old manuscript written in 1618 by one of the mutineers who sent Hendrick Hudson and eight of his crew adrift in an open boat. They were never heard of more, and for more than 200 years there has been much speculation as to their fate. The manuscript, written in a large, firm hand, consisted of ten slips of paper, apparently torn from a book and tied together for better preservation. It has been forwarded, together with other relics, to the office of the Hudson’s Bay Company in London. The writer, Louis Marin, thus tells the story of the mutiny:

“One night, when we were in great misery, stars fell from Heaven in countless numbers and we rejoiced to think for a time that the end of the word [sic] had come. Our Captain was gloomy all the time, and the men often cursed him in his hearing for bringing them to such a pass. Spring was very tardy in coming, but when the ice field broke up we thrush Hudson and the five blind sailors into the pinnace and told them to go ashore. We headed the ship out that night, and in the morning the pinnace had disappeared. I became afraid of the crew and of the ship, for every night at midnight the ghosts of the Captain and the five blind sailors came aboard and troubled us sorely. While I was at my prayers one night one of the ghosts told me to leave the ship, and when we touched the coast for water I ran away from it.”

The Onlooker, Vol. 1, Part 2. May 28, 1902.

This small magazine has an article on Tammany Hall, a short theatre review, some gossip, and some miscellany.

The Editor, Alfred Henry Lewis, has a split personality on the web. Is he the lawyer-turned-cowboy? Is he the muckraking journalist? Any clues would be greatly appreciated.

The magazine itself has no presence on the web, except of course, for at Odd Ends, DP and PG. It is similar in appearance and layout to The Philistine (Elbert Hubbard’s magazine) of the same era, but unfortunately I can’t find any pictures.

Thanks to Diane Monico for Post-processing this text!

For Forty Long Years He Vainly Searches His Brain for It–The Story That So Suddenly Lost Its Point–Principle of Psychology.

Rev. Cyrus Hamlin, who as a missionary resided for more than forty years in Turkey, and was the founder and first president of Robert college, in Constantinople, has collected a number of incidents connected with his residence in that country. Among them is one which has an interesting bearing on the question of memory, says the Washington Star.

It is a familiar contention among psychologists that an incident once thoroughly present to the human mind cannot be effaced from memory. But for many years Dr. Hamlin thought he had proof of an exception to this law. After he graduated from the theological seminary and had decided to devote his life to missionary work he visited Philadelphia on business connected with his work, and while there was introduced to a gentleman, who being much interested in missions, generously rendered Mr. Hamlin financial assistance, which enabled him to carry on his work to better advantage than he could otherwise have done.

It was 30 years before he again visited America, during which time he had married and a family of children had grown up around him. None of these having ever visited the father’s native land, they were naturally curious to learn all he could tell him of this country, and were. of course, especially interested in incidents connected with his own life. Among other stories he often related the one concerning his patron, but curiously enough he found it impossible to recall the gentleman’s name. Every incident connected with their interviews, even to the street and number of the house in which he had lived, was as plain to him s if it had been but yesterday that the events occurred, but to save his life he could not think of the gentleman’s name. As time went on this lapse of memory became so persistent as to cause him considerable annoyance, and he adopted all sorts of expedients to bring back the name. He would take the letters of the alphabet one at a time, and think over all the surnames he had ever heard, but to no avail. Then, in his imagination, he would start down the street where his friend had lived, enter his house, go thorough with the ceremony of introduction, and repeat word for word, as nearly as he could remember, the conversation which had taken place between them, but still he could not recall the name.

When after thirty years he returned to his native land on a visit, he took the trouble to go to Philadelphia, in order to settle the question which had been puzzling him for so long. He visited the house, but found only strangers, who could tell him nothing of the people who lived there so many years before. So, finally, Dr. Hamlin abandoned the search, thinking that here at last was a case where something had been thoroughly presented to the human mind and as thoroughly effaced.

One night, when he had returned permanently to this country, he attended a large dinner, where present were several distinguished psychologist[s]. During the evening the conversation turned upon the subject of memory, and the well known scientific principle was discussed. This was too good an opportunity to be lost, and Dr. Hamlin proceeded to relate his experience at length as an example of the opposite view, namely, that incidents could be throughly effaced from memory. He was, of course, listened to with great interest, and as he approached the end of his story, he said with great impressiveness: “Gentlemen, there is an incident presented to my mind more than forty years ago, and I have not been able to think of the name of Capt. Robinson from that day to this.”

When the climax was greeted by a hearty burst of laugher, the worthy doctor looked around in great astonishment, for he thought he had told a pretty good story, and could see nothing to provoke mirth. It was sometime before he saw that he had been “condemned out of his own mouth.”

SPELL AND DEFINE:

Instruction Miscalculation Paralysis

Instantaneity Pastime Hasty

Liniment Contusion Supererogation

Can a boy learn anything without a teacher?–Does the pupil ever know more than the instructor?–And why not?–How long does it require one to learn to speak and write the Spanish language correctly in six easy lessons, at home, without a master?–And in how many lessons can one be taught to walk Spanish?–What is meant by a “rooter”?–What is the difference between a “rooter” and a “fan”?–Parse “hoodoo.”–What is the philology of “crank”?–Describe a closely contested game of “one-old-cat,” with diagrams.–What is meant by “a rank decision”?–Translate into colloquial English the phrase, “Good eye Bill!”–Put into bleaching board Latin, “Rotten umpire.”–Why is he so called?

The Ann Arbor papers complain of the employment of counterfiet [sic] dog tags. We suppose whenever they find a counterfiet dog they put a tag on him, and some folks don’t like it.

The Times is authority for the remarkable fact that it is more than half of the time impossible to get a prescription filled at any drug store in Ann Arbor during night hours. We should suppose that the people should do something to wake up the sleepy druggists of that quite [sic] town.