A MODERN ABSALOM
There resides in the neighbourhood of Lytham, the son of a respectable farmer, whose eccentricity is peculiarly singular as to his fine locks of matted hair, which he prides himself much upon, never allowing brush, comb, or scissors to come near it for years together. The operation of cutting has generally to be forced upon him, or (Sampson-like) performed by stratagem, which always forms one of the epochs of his life, being about seven years apart. One of these memorable events took place lately, when the combined wit of his friends, and the keen edge of the barber’s shears, were put to the test; and no sooner was the work completed than he appeared a completely metamorphosed man, many of his own friends not even recognising him. The cost of cutting his hair was 2s. 8d., and it is said the fleece is sufficient to stuff a cushion large enough to sleep on. – Preston Pilot
The Leicester Chronicle, Saturday 30 September 1837
Note from the Editor: As one who was lately condemned by the editor of the Illustrated Police News as a ‘dissolute long-haired poltroon,’ I have some sympathy with this harmless hippy.
THE OLD LADY’S CATS
A SUMMONS of rather an exceptional character—for keeping a large number of cats in a small room at No. 21, Tufton-street, Westminster, used as a living and sleeping apartment by the occupier and the defendant, an elderly female named Louisa Bragg—came before the magistrate, at the Westminster Police-court, on Friday.
The defendant, it was stated, was summoned about three years ago for a similar offence in Marsham-street, Westminster. The defendant then produced a birthday book of her pets, and pleaded very hard to be allowed to retain them, but after a good deal of trouble they were reduced in number by summary measures.
Lightfoot, the sanitary inspector, said that the nuisance was now as bad as ever. When he visited the defendant’s room on the 11th ult. the door was cautiously opened a little way, and an endeavour made to close it when his identity was discovered. He had time to count eight cats—never allowed out—of different sizes and colours. The effluvia was sickening, and there had been many complaints. At subsequent visits he could not gain admission to the room. Personal service of the summons was proved, and in the defendant’s absence the magistrate made an order on her to abate the nuisance forthwith and pay 23s. cost.
The Illustrated Police News, Saturday 16 April 1892
Notes from the Editor:
- It is only too evident that some things never change, but Ms Lucy Inglis of Georgian London has further proof, viz: An eccentrical lady
- I have not forgotten Mr Amateur Casual’s meme, and shall ‘get onto it’ forthwith.
STRANGE OCCURRENCE AT WINDSOR.
The passengers arriving at Windsor by a Great Western train on Tuesday morning were startled by the extraordinary behaviour of a man who, on quitting the carriage in which he had travelled from the Metropolis, strode up and down the platform in an excited manner, quoted Burns and Shakespeare, and declared that he would see the Queen, adding in somewhat forcible language that “every brick in the Castle belonged to him.” As the Marquis of Salisbury, who had been visiting her Majesty, and others were to proceed to town by the next train, the man was promptly ejected from the station and taken into custody by the police. He was evidently a great believer in the efficacy of the Royal “touch,” as he urged that if he could only see the Queen, “she would be sure to cure his head.”
The Nottinghamshire Guardian, Saturday 9 December 1893
POISONED BY A STOLEN DRINK.
A STRANGE OCCURRENCE.
Whilst a man named Keogh, belonging to Ballyward, county Wicklow, was travelling by the Blessington tram from Terenure, near Dublin, on Friday afternoon, he extracted by way of joke from a fellow-passenger’s pocket a bottle which he believed to contain whiskey, and imbibed a considerable portion of its contents. He quietly replaced the bottle, making no remark as to the occurrence at the time, but as it was subsequently noticed that he was seriously unwell, he mentioned that he had taken a quantity of the liquid, which turned out to be poison. Nothing could be done for the unfortunate man by those on the tramcar, but as soon as he arrived at Blessington medical aid was procured, and although every known remedy was applied, the poison was too long in the system, and Keogh died a short time afterwards.
The North-Eastern Daily Gazette, Monday 19 October 1891