Kitabı oku: «Chambers's Journal of Popular Literature, Science, and Art, No. 705, June 30, 1877», sayfa 5

'We can land you again in a twinkling, you know – can't we, Angus?' said the Duke, looking slyly from one to the other. Angus was standing in the background, rather sheepishly, if the truth were told, cap in hand. Maggie had hardly time to assure 'the minister' that she would be the last to disappoint His Grace the Duke, and was quite certain, when a door at the other end of a cabin opened, and the Duke's daughter, Lady Flora, entered; and again the Highland maid courtesied, overwhelmed with blushes as her Ladyship shook hands with her.

'We shall hear by-and-by what the piper has to say to this,' said Lady Flora; 'but you, Maggie, had better come with me for a time, that all may be done in good order.'

And so Maggie was carried off by the Duke's daughter to a second nook of paradise in blue velvet and gold and mirrors, a fairy cabin redolent with the perfume of flowers, and with a glorious peep of loch and mountain from a different point of view. The girl felt as if she were moving and talking in a dream.

When she emerged with Lady Flora she was clad in simple white attire, veiled, and a spray of heather-blossom mingling in her hair. Was it still a dream? – the minister with an open Bible before him, and Angus waiting to take her by the hand!

'Wilt thou have this woman to be thy wedded wife?' &c. – the magic words that have sent a thrill through the hearts of so many generations, were sounding in their ears too. And as for Angus – well, Angus was conscious, as he placed the ring on Maggie's finger, that he was drifting away into a dreamy world of happiness, far better than he deserved, or ever, in his most ardent moments, dreamed were in store for him!

The piper returned with the party that had been committed to his guidance towards set of sun, and reached Glen Heath hungry as Esau from the field; he was impatient to be at the Home Farm barn, where he and his bagpipes were already due. So hungry and impatient was he that he did not cross-examine Janet with that severity which generally characterised him as she – well primed in her part – explained that Maggie had already started for the ball. No; the piper was speedily girding himself, in the merriest possible frame of mind, in his best, and smiling as he observed that Maggie had for the occasion adorned his bagpipes with new ribbons. The piper was no fop; but it was rumoured that the Duke himself was about to lead off the ball to-night, and that some of the ladies from the castle were to be present; so it behoved him to appear in his best tartan, which he did; and a finer specimen of the clan Cameron, firm on his legs, with a head set strongly on a pair of broad shoulders that proudly bore the bagpipes, never led clan to battle-field.

With all his haste, he was late. Many of the company were already seated at the long tables that extended from one end of the barn to the other. People were shaking hands and chatting freely, and already there was the fragrant odour of cooked meats, tempting the appetites of all and sundry. The room was gaily lit with candles and lamps from the castle. The piper lifted his cap politely in acknowledgment of the applause that greeted him as he entered.

'This is your place, Mr Cameron,' said the Duke's factor, who acted as steward for the occasion, pointing a place near the head of the table, and immediately opposite Mr MacTavish and his wife; the former of whom frowned blackly as the piper looked across at him.

'Na, Mr Reid, na; not just yet,' the piper said rising.

'A tune, Mr Cameron, a tune!' came from several quarters of the room; a request which the piper was pleased and proud to comply with. Nor did the music cease until the door opened, and the Duke walked in, Lady Flora leaning on his arm, and behind him Mr Fraser, leading in the mild-eyed Duchess; and behind these several of the Duke's guests. The bagpipes came to abrupt silence as the company rose to cheer the ducal party. When Mr Fraser had asked a blessing on the mercies which the Duke had provided for them, there came a loud clatter of knives and forks and an assault upon the dishes; and talk and laughter and merry din. The piper forgot the game-keeper in the absorbing fact that he was seated between Lady Flora and Factor Reid, an unusual and unexpected honour; so absorbed, that he hardly noticed that his daughter Maggie had not up to this moment appeared in the room.

When the dishes were cleared away and glasses and decanters stood regiment-wise along the table, the Chief rose and, when silence prevailed, said: 'My very good friends, before I ask you to fill bumpers for the toast of this evening, the nature of which I shall be called upon to explain presently – I wish you all to join with me in a glass to two very worthy friends of mine, and esteemed acquaintances of all of you; whose good qualities are too well known to require any words from me to commend them to your favourable notice – I mean our excellent friend Mr Cameron of Glen Heath, and my no less esteemed friend Mr MacTavish of Glen Ford – and may they never be worse friends than I am sure in their hearts they are to-night!'

There was a general clinking of glasses and nodding of heads towards the piper and the game-keeper: 'Your health, Mr Cameron!' 'I look towarts ye, Mr MacTavish!' 'Your fery cood healths, shentlemen!' &c.

It need hardly be said that Mr Cameron and Mr MacTavish looked extremely foolish as the sounds gradually passed into silence, and all eyes became fixed on them; but neither of them seemed disposed to rise. At length the piper sprang to his feet.

'It wass a great honour that His Grace paid me, and I thank him for it with all my heart. And it wass – well it wass, ladies and shentlemens – well, ye may hef heard mirofer that there wass a small wee bit of a tifference – inteed ye might call it a quarrel between Mister MacTavish and me, and it wass a pity too whatefer – nae doot there might be faults on poth sides – and Your Grace, if ye will allow me to say it – I pear no enmity to no man this nicht, no not to Mister MacTavish, nor to any other shentleman at all, at all.'

'Bravo! bravo!' exclaimed the Duke, looking towards Mr MacTavish. But that worthy had no gift of words, and only signified his emotion by a series of dry-lipped jerks and nods and a waving of the hands in the piper's direction, meant to imply his general assent to the piper's view of the case.

The Duke again rose. 'I now rise to ask you, every one of you, Mr Cameron and Mr MacTavish included, to fill your glasses a good bumper, to drink with me the toast of this evening. I drink to the very good health of the bride and bridegroom in whose honour this ball is given to-night.' At the same moment the door opened, and Angus MacTavish entered with Maggie Cameron – no longer Cameron – leaning on his arm. Maggie looked round the room in some bewilderment. When her eye met her father's, her hand dropped from Angus's arm, and with her face all pale, she walked firmly toward him. When she came to him, she stopped.

'Dad!' – with quivering lip and with eyes in which lurked tears – 'iss it angry with me ye are then, dad, cass I hef married Angus MacTavish? O dad, ye'll no pe that angry!'

The piper, conscious of the dramatic possibilities of the situation, paused, looked at the Highland Chief, who was still on his feet, and then at Maggie's sweet fresh face, which was turned piteously to him. He looked at the white muslin dress, prettily studded over with satin bows, and from there to the dainty white satin boot that peeped from below the dress, and felt proud to be his daughter's father.

'And iss it merrit ye are then, Maggie, to Angus MacTavish? but it iss – well, it iss a praw lad too, and well deservin' a praw lass for his wife' —

Maggie's arms were immediately thrown about her father's neck, and the welled-up tears found easy channel.

'Gif me your hand, Angus, ye pla-guard!' The hands griped with Celtic impetuosity.

'Excuse me, Mr Cameron,' interrupted the Duke. 'Ladies and gentlemen, we must drink the young couple's health with full Highland honours; and no heel-taps!' The rafters rung with hearty cheers as the men stood with one foot on their seats and the other on the edge of the table, doing honour to the Chief's bidding to youth and beauty.

This ceremony over, the piper rose, walked slowly and solemnly, amidst the silence of the company, to the place where Mr MacTavish sat. Mr MacTavish rose, and the men faced each other.

'Tonald!' said the piper impressively.

'John!' said the game-keeper. A pause.

'It wass an angry man I wass, Tonald!'

'And so wass I neither,' said the game-keeper.

'But we wull droon it all in this, John,' said the piper, filling two glasses with whisky, and handing one to his friend.

'But the oil-cake nefer wass biled!' said Donald solemnly, as he poised his glass between him and the light.

'Teffle take the oil-cake, John!' said the piper impetuously. 'Gif me your hand, man!'

And the reconciliation was complete.

The tables were speedily cleared away, the piper soon discoursing stirring music from his pipes; with the satisfaction of seeing the Duke lead off his beaming child as partner in the first reel. Daylight peeped in before the pipes were quieted, or the noise and merriment of the company were hushed.

And now, before the door of a cottage that has been built within a short distance of the piper's, there are to be seen three fine boys and a 'sonsie' lassie, the eldest rejoicing in having a Duke for godfather; and a proud man is the piper as he teaches Archie the oldest boy how to extract martial music from a sheep's bladder, which the ingenious youth has converted with skill into home-made bagpipes. To this day, the piper, on whom years are beginning to tell their pathetic tale, meets his friend the game-keeper once or twice a week at Mrs MacDonald's clachan among the hills, and the toast which always furnishes an excuse for the one extra glass that the piper thinks needful to send him cheerily on his way home is – 'Cott pless the Teuk!'

THE MONTH:
SCIENCE AND ARTS

We often read in the newspapers that a certain ship has been taken out to the 'measured mile' for trial of her speed, which means that, in order to try the steam-engines, they must be put into the ship, and the ship into the water. Like much else in English practice, it is an uncertain way of finding out that which ought to be previously known; for it is a trial of more than the engines, seeing that it includes the merits and defects of the boilers and of the ship, and the behaviour of the steam, which exercise an important influence on the result. If, therefore, the engines only are to be tested, the trial might as well be made while the vessel is still in dock; and while still in dock there should be some means for ascertaining and accurately indicating their capabilities. This means has been invented by Mr Froude, F.R.S., who has already done so much for the science of shipbuilding; and his new dynamometer seems likely to fulfil the intended purpose. It combines some of the most recondite principles in mechanical philosophy, but may be roughly described as a turbine with its segmental divisions so constructed that, when set rotating, the water inclosed is urged into a state of resistance. This resistance varies with the speed and power of the engines; and a spring lever, communicating with the interior of the apparatus, indicates the variations on an external scale. The turbine will be temporarily fixed to the end of the screw-shaft, the engines will be set to work, and as the shaft spins round, the power of the engines will be clearly and independently demonstrated, even up to eight thousand horse-power, if required. The capabilities of the engines having been thus accurately ascertained while the ship is still in dock, it will be possible, when trying her over the measured mile, to define how far her speed is affected by other influences, in summing up the result. A working model of this ingenious invention has been exhibited to the Admiralty and at scientific gatherings in London.

Mr Cochot, 34 Avenue Lacuée, Paris, has constructed a small steam-engine of half a horse-power, for use in petty manufactures, which, as he states, will work ten hours at a cost of not more than fourteenpence for coal.

Mr Redier, clockmaker of Paris, has exhibited to the Société d'Encouragement pour l'Industrie Nationale a balance which registers variations of weight. In this ingenious instrument clockwork is so arranged in connection with a copper cylinder, suspended in a vessel of water, as to produce two antagonistic movements, one of which comes into play whenever excited by the action of the other. By this alternate movement the registration proceeds steadily, and is recorded by a pencil on a band of paper. An exceedingly light spring lever is so combined with the clockwork that it will keep a comparatively heavy weight in action; such as holding a barometer free to rise and fall while the column of mercury stands always at the same level. Many applications may be made of this instrument, especially in the sciences of observation. Its sensibility is such that it will register the loss of weight in a spirit-lamp while burning. The physiologist may employ it to ascertain the weight lost by animals during respiration and perspiration, and the botanist to determine the amount of evaporation from the leaves of a plant; and from these examples others may be imagined.

Stock-taking in science is as indispensable as in business, and there is something like stock-taking in the subject for which the University of Oxford proposes to give a ten guinea medal and about five guineas in cash: it is 'The History of the successive Stages of our Knowledge of Nebulæ, Nebulous Stars, and Star Clusters, from the time of Sir William Herschel.'

The Royal Astronomical Society have published an account of observations of Jupiter's satellites made by Mr Todd of the Observatory, Adelaide, under remarkably favourable circumstances. Sometimes the satellite, when on the point of occultation, is seen apparently through the edge of Jupiter, 'as if the planet were surrounded by a transparent atmosphere laden with clouds.' In a subsequent observation, 'the shadow of the third satellite, when in mid-transit along a high northern parallel, appeared to be visibly oval or flattened at the poles.' On several occasions, as Mr Todd states, he has been surprised at ingress of shadow by the marvellous sharpness, the minutest indentation of the limb being at once detected. One night he saw the second satellite, as it emerged from behind the planet, immediately pass into the shadow, then reappear within a few minutes of the reappearance of and close to the first satellite; and the two thus formed 'a pretty coarse double star.' This must have been a very interesting sight. And there were times when the astronomer was much impressed by the sudden and extensive changes in the cloud-belts of the planet, as though some storm were there in progress, changing the form and dimensions of the belts in an hour or two, or even less. After reading this, may we not say that the observer at Adelaide is remarkably fortunate?

The fall of exceedingly minute mineral particles in the snow and rain in regions far away from dust and smoke has been accepted as evidence that a so-called 'cosmic dust' floats in our atmosphere. Some physicists believe that this dust is always falling everywhere, that the bulk of the earth is increased, and that the phenomenon known to astronomers as acceleration of the moon's motion is thereby accounted for. Iron is found among the particles, exceedingly small and globular in form, as if they had been subjected to a high temperature. Recent spectrum analysis has led to the conclusion that the light of the aurora borealis may be due to the presence of these particles of iron in a state of incandescence. In a communication to the Vaudoise Society of Natural Sciences, Mr Yung assumes that this dust, coming to us from celestial space, will be most abundant immediately after the showers of shooting-stars in August and November; and he purposes to collect masses of air on great heights and treat them in such a way as to eliminate all the cosmic dust which they may contain. His experiments lead him to believe that the particles are in much greater quantity than hitherto supposed, and that they play an important part in the physics of the globe and in the dispersion of solar light. Dr Tyndall has shewn that a perfectly pure gas has no dispersive action. The cosmic dust floating in the upper regions of the atmosphere would account for the luminous train of meteors, and for certain phenomena observed by means of the spectroscope. A long time will of course be required for the quantitative experiments, but they will be of great interest to astronomers as well as to physicists generally.

A telephone has been exhibited at some of the evening receptions in London, but failed to give satisfactory demonstration of its sound-transmitting powers. In America, on the contrary, the success is so remarkable, that the Society of Telegraph Engineers have sent out a deputation to gather information on the interesting subject. In addition to the instances already given in these pages, we have now to present further particulars on the authority of an American contemporary. In April last, telephonic concerts were held in Washington and Boston, the source of the music being in Philadelphia. At each place (that is, Washington and Boston) the music, though rather feeble in tone, was distinctly heard by the audience in all parts of the hall. The different tunes were recognised and listened to with profound attention, the intonations being so clear and distinct as to excite wonder and applause. We are further informed that 'the music (or electric waves of sound) was also conveyed by induction along other parallel telegraphic wires attached to the same poles; for in a telegraph office in Washington the tunes played at Philadelphia were distinctly heard on a "relay" used in the despatch service, and even at some yards' distance from the instrument.' This is the more remarkable as the relay 'had no connection whatever with the wire attached to the telephone.' Another noteworthy characteristic of the telephone is that it will, as is said, deliver a number of spoken messages at the same time without confusion.