He had the weakness of being proud of small discoveries—the tinier
the better; and was always sharpening his senses, as well as his
intellect, to a fine point, in order to make them. I fear that by these
means he shut out some great ones, which could not enter during such a
concentration of the faculties. He would stand listening to the sound of
goose-feet upon the road, and watch how those webs laid hold of the earth
like a hand. He would struggle to enter into their feelings in folding
their wings properly on their backs. He would calculate, on chemical and
arithmetical grounds, whether one might not hear the nocturnal growth of
plants in the tropics. He was quite elated by the discovery, as he
considered it, that Shakspeare named his two officers of the watch,
Dogberry and Verjuice; the poisonous Dogberry, and the acid liquor of
green fruits, affording suitable names for the stupidly innocuous
constables, in a play the very essence of which is Much Ado About Nothing.
Another of his discoveries he had, during their last lesson, unfolded to
David, who had certainly contemplated it with interest. It was, that the
original forms of the Arabic numerals were these:
1.2.3.4.5.6.7.8.9. {original text has a picture}
the number for which each figure stands being indicated by the number of
straight lines employed in forming that numeral. I fear the comparative
anatomy of figures gives no countenance to the discovery which Hugh
flattered himself he had made.
After he had helped David out of his difficulty, he took up the heather,
and stripping off the bells, shook them in his hand at Margaret’s ear. A
half smile, like the moonlight of laughter, dawned on her face; and she
listened with something of the same expression with which a child listens
to the message from the sea, inclosed in a twisted shell. He did the same
at David’s ear next.
“Eh, man! that’s a bonny wee soun’! It’s jist like sma’ sheep-bells—fairy-sheep,
I reckon, Maggy, my doo.”
“Lat me hearken as weel,” said Janet.
Hugh obeyed. She laughed.
“It’s naething but a reestlin’. I wad raither hear the sheep baain’, or
the kye routin’.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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