Part 5

Amongst the other substances used to adulterate coffee in order to yield a higher profit to the dealer, are burnt sugar or caramel, dried and roasted figs, dried dates, date-stones, decayed ships’ biscuits, beans, peas, acorns, malt, dandelion root, turnips, carrots, parsnips, and mangold-wurzel, all of which are roasted in imitation of coffee. There is little wonder, therefore, that coffee, which lends itself so easily to unprincipled adulteration, is becoming unpopular. According to Dr Wallace, the quantity used per head in 1843 was 1.1 lb., increasing up to 1848, when it was 1.37 lb. It has since slowly but steadily declined, especially since 1853, and is now only .89 lb.; a decrease since 1843 of nineteen per cent., and since 1853 of fifty-four per cent. About five pounds of tea per head are consumed to one of coffee. In France, with a heavier duty, the consumption of coffee is 3.23 lbs. a head; Germany and Holland, 5.3 lbs.; Switzerland, 6.68 lbs.; Italy, only 1.05 lb.; while Belgium is largest of all, being 9 lbs. a head. The total consumption in Europe is about four hundred thousand tons, of which Great Britain used fourteen thousand tons in 1880. In the same year, about six thousand tons of chicory were retained for home consumption, which is an index to the extent of the adulteration. When the public taste ceases to lend itself to coffee adulterated with chicory and other rubbish, and when folks have acquired the art of making it properly, then the beverage might take the high place in general estimation to which it is justly entitled.

ABNORMAL HUMANITY.

A new phenomenon has lately appeared in Paris in the shape of a man with a head resembling that of a calf. The similarity is said to be wonderful. For his own sake, it is to be hoped that this eccentric-looking person will prove as great a financial success as his three recent celebrated predecessors—the Man-frog, the man with a goose’s head, and the Man-dog, who have all retired into private life, having made a nice little fortune. The Man-frog was first exhibited in 1866, at a French country fête. He had a stout ill-shapen body, covered with a skin like a leather bottle, and a face exactly like a frog’s, large eyes, an enormous mouth, and the skin cold and clammy. He attracted a good deal of attention from the Academy of Medicine, and a delegate was deputed to make him an object of study. He went all over France; and at the end of a few years, retired to his native place, Puyre, in Gers.

The man with the goose’s head was first shown at the Gingerbread Fair in 1872. He was twenty years of age, had round eyes, a long and flat nose the shape and size of a goose’s bill, an immensely long neck, and was without a single hair on his head. He only wanted feathers to make him complete. The effect of his interminably long neck twisting about was extremely ludicrous, and was so much appreciated, that his receipts were very large. He now passes under his proper name of Jean Rondier, and is established at Dijon as a photographer. He is married; and, thanks to enormously high collars and a wig, is now tolerably presentable.

The Man-dog came from Russia, and was for a long time exhibited in Paris. He is now settled at Pesth, having established a bird-fancier’s business there, which is decidedly flourishing.

THE SOLITARY SINGER.

Sweet singer!—sweet to hear when only one Among the thousand voices of the spring Thou carollest—how sweeter far, alone And all unrivalled, art thou wont to fling The spell of music o’er the list’ning air From yon drear spray by winter’s blight left bare.

Say what the burden of that patient strain Which answer seeketh none, but ever forth Is poured, and by itself its own refrain, Still echo’d, findeth—save that from the North Responsive plainings through the leafless tree Mingle, methinks, with thine in sympathy.

It cannot but be sad—a low-tuned sigh For lost delights thy callow youth once knew, When all the grove was blossom, all the sky A smile above thee, and the glad hours flew Unmarred from when thy notes brought in the day, Till evening’s hush was mellowed by thy lay.

It cannot all be sad—some sweet alloy Of Hope would seem to tremble through thy song, And serve, when all thy mates are mute, to buoy Thy heart, though clouds across thy heaven throng, Though strewn all blossom, and the rude winds’ brawl Sound the sad dirge of twilight’s sombre fall.

Whate’er it be, clear-throated, soft, and low, It woos the stern hour with a lulling tone, According well with streams that whispering flow Ice-muffled, with the sound of sere leaves blown In rustling eddies ’neath their parent shade, Where Autumn’s glory by the wind is laid.

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[Transcriber’s Note—the following changes have been made to this text.

Page 294: generelly to generally—“generally abortive”.]