Untitled

Poverty Bay Herald, Volume XXI, Issue 6898, 9 February 1894, Page 4

A mistake which happens oftener m books than m real life occurred recently (according to the Indian Daily News) at Hankow. While two bridal processions were fighting for precedence at one of the city barrier gates, which had been closed by some rowdies for the purpose of exacting toll from the relatives and escorts of the brides, the bridal chairs somehow got mixed, and so were taken to the houses of the wrong bridegrooms, who, according to the prevailing coatom of China, having never seen their brides before, were unable to detect the mistake. After the usual prostrations, the happy pair proceeded to the nuptial chamber. Judge,, then, the astonishment of the two brides' mothers, when, on going the next morning, according to custom, to present the usual hair oil to the brides, they found that each had got hold of the wrong bridegroom. A great clamour was raised, and when the newly-made relations came to identify their daughters and sons-in-law the conviction remained that the parties had somehow got mixed. A general hunt was made m the town, but this was rather a difficult task, as, owing to the luckiness of the day, several marriages had taken place m this city. At last, however, the right daughter and wrong son-in-law were found, and the parents of the girls thought there was no help for it but to put a good face on the matter, and acknowledge their new relations. Had the sons-in-law both been equally well off, no great regret would probably have been expressed, and the situation would have been accepted with a good grace. Unfortunately, however, one of the sons-in-law happened to be m poor circumstauces, while the bride's family is a rich one, so there was a good deal of dissatisfaction m one family.

It is rather difficult to distrain upon a man's goods when practically bia only earthly possessions consist of a cage full of lions. This fact has been forcibly brought home to M. Leclaire, a Paris engineer, who made a large perambulating iron cage for a lion tamer named Marck. Marck has recently had an engagement at the Theatre do la Gaite. where the lions were introduced into a piece called "Les Bicyclist es en Voyage," m which an actress named Madame Bob Walter danced a skirt dance m tho cage, doubtless to the great astonishment of tho poor beasts. The cage was to cost 6,000 francs, of which M. Leclaire could obtain only 1500 francs, whereupon he put the law m motion. A broker went down to seize the wild beasts, who, possibly at the secret instigation of the owner, roared at him so threateningly directly he appeared that he did not care to have anything to do with their removal. The authorities of the Jardjn dee fiantee, or Paris Zoo,

were consulted, but they declined to usurp judicial functions. There the matter rests at present, although the lion-tamer has undertaken to keep them safely for the present m his custody, and not to part with them.

Professor Dewar has arrived excitingly near to what we may term the North Pole of Science— the zero of absolute temperature, which is supposed to be 461 degrees below zero point of Fahrenheit. A representative of the Westminster Budget recently interviewed Professor Dewar m the Laboratory of the Royal Institution, and got from him some most interesting details as to his experiments and discoveries. In the torrid weather we are experiencing just now, it may be refreshing even to read about the low temperatures the distinguished scientist has succeeded m reaching. The reporter had the pleasure of seeing some liquid oxygen. It is now being brewed on quite a wholesale scale. In all he has collected and used about fifty gallons. Roughly speaking, m drawing it off from the vessel m which it is kept under a pressure of 750 pounds to the square inch, nine-tenths of it is lost by evaporation. Every gallon, therefore, which has been collected represents about ten gallons manufactured. It has cost £5000 to manufacture the 50 gallons which has been used, so that this exceedingly precious liquid runs into about £100 a gallon. It is "a pale blue liquid, strangely lustrous," and the reporter could not help being impressed at the sight of it. By an ingenious arrangement the Professor is able to handle it m the open air, where it quietly evaporates m a single thread of tiny bubbles like a glass of champagne which has become nearly still.