Page:Once a Week June to Dec 1863.pdf/722

712  at the other in the state of perfect paper. By this process twenty-five square feet can be made in one minute; or 15,000 square feet in a working day of ten hours.

The vexatious excise duty on paper was removed in 1862, when the Exchequer lost 1,000,000l. on that year by the change. The average value of paper manufactured in Great Britain may be set down at 4,000,000l.

The subject of watermarks in paper is an inquiry alike useful and curious, since it assists in elucidating the history of paper-making, and the mark of the manufacturer has often been found of use in detecting literary forgeries, and frauds in the falsification of accounts. To pursue the inquiry here would far exceed our limit; but the reader will find an able contribution of specimens, by the Rev. Joseph Hunter, “Archæologia,” xxxvii.

One of the oldest water-marks in existence is an open hand, whose middle finger is connected by a straight line or stem with a star. This appears on a sheet of paper of the manufacture of Flanders, which at that time supplied all the paper needed for the correspondence of England. Upon a sheet of paper is written a letter, preserved in one of the Museums at Venice, which was addressed to Francesco Capello, by King Henry VII., from “our manor of Woodstock,” on the 20th of July, 1502. Mr. Herring, however, states its introduction at 1530, adding that it gave the name to “Hand” paper. Note paper once bore a tankard, but it has now the royal arms in a shield, without motto or supporters. Post is marked with a postman’s horn, in a shield with a crown. Copy has a fleur-de-lys only. Demy, and several larger sorts, a fleur-de-lys in a crowned shield. Royal, a shield with a bend sinister, and a fleur-de-lys for crest. Mr. Herring traces the term cap to the jockey-cap, or something like it, in use when the first edition of Shakspere was printed. The date given to Foolscap in the “Archæologia,” xii., is 1661, and the following traditional story is related of its origin:—

In a chapter on the colouring of paper, Mr. Herring relates that the practice of blueing the paper-pulp had its origin in an accidental circumstance. About the year 1790, at a paper-mill belonging to Mr. Buttenshaw, his wife was superintending the washing of some fine linen, when accidentally she dropped her bag of powder-blue into some pulp in a forward state of preparation, with which the blue rapidly incorporated. On Mr. Buttenshaw’s inquiring what had imparted the peculiar colour to the pulp, his wife, presuming that no great damage was done, took courage, and confessed the accident, for which she was afterwards rewarded by her husband, who, by introducing to the London market the improved blue make, obtained for it an advance of four shillings per bundle. 2em

, versifying youths that prate, And think themselves immensely clever, Their elders often irritate, By writing love-sick rhymes for ever— A practice we abominate: Shall we succumb to gammon? Never!

Not that I hate the fellows’ rhymes: Once I was young too and enamoured: Ah, me! those were transcendent times! How often I my passion clamoured, And loves and woes in jingling chimes, Like smith on anvil, stoutly hammered!

Looked love to eyes that looked again— Reciprocation rather pleasant, And apt to stir both heart and brain Of every grade, from peer to peasant! Hold hard! this is a silly strain: I’m quite oblivious of the present!

For I’ve a wife—a tender spouse, Once the ideal of my fancies; But, since we took to keeping house, It happened—as it always chances— We bade adieu to raptured vows, For real life is not Romance’s!

That’s why the novels mostly end At entrance into matrimony! The writers may, perhaps, pretend, ’Tis one long round of bliss and honey— A theory so odd, my friend, That makes a victim rather funny!

Too soon one feels, when fairly hooked, The iron doom, depend upon it! One’s way of life for ever crooked, A zigzag orbit round a bonnet! Connubial bliss, though fair it looked, Proves no fit theme for mirthful sonnet!

Hard, say the martyrs, is their fate: Ask them from to : And yet you youngsters idly prate Of love, and bliss, and witching ladies! Be warned in time, or know too late, You never can retreat from !