The jokes of the middle ages on the subject of the beard, were numerous--it was a favorite ornament, as we may judge from the fact that Eberhard, the far-famed old warlike duke, sung in more than one poem by Uhland, is always spoken of in the old stories, as _noster princeps barbatus_, 'our bearded prince,' or, more familiarly, simply as 'our bearded one.' One of the table problems of the day was, '_Potestne probari mulierem quandam habuisse barbam?_'--'Can it be proved that any woman ever had a beard?' The answer to which, was, 'Yes--when Judith bore the head of Holofernes.' It was singular that such a question could have been agitated, when the legends of the saints contained the story of the bearded saintess of the Tyrol--a converted ballet-dancer, who was thus rendered hideous in accordance with her prayer, that she might be made so repulsive as to frighten away all lovers. And yet Mr. Barnum's Bearded Lady had a husband! Jokes ridiculing red beards and heads were common in the old time; probably because a popular tradition declared that Judas, 'the arch rascal,' was so marked by nature. The anecdote of the good clergyman who never laughed but once in church, and that was, when he saw a youth trying to light a cigar, or warm his hands at a certain ruddy poll, finds its prototype in one of the old Latin stories: 'Our country people are wont to say, when they see a red-headed man; 'he would make a bad chimney-sweeper.' And when the reason is asked, they say: 'when his head came out of the chimney the country folks would think it was fire, and would ring the bells, assemble from every direction, and cause all the riot and trouble incident to a conflagration.' It is worth noting in this connection, that the prejudice against red hair is rapidly being forgotten among cultivated persons, and is far from being what it was within the memory of man. The vulgar, who are the last to abandon an absurdity, still retain a few jokes on the subject; but these will probably be as unintelligible in time, as would be the jests of the middle ages on the _rufa tunica_, or red frock. The boorishness and cruelty of 'the good old times,' are strongly reflected in the following, which a scholar of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries was not ashamed to record of himself: 'When lately during Lent, in the year 1506, we had several guests, among them a rustic from Weilsberg, who wore a long red beard. I asked him why he did so? and he replied, 'out of grief for the death of his father-in-law.' To which I replied: 'All wrong, for red is a color suited to rejoicing'--at which remark all the guests present began to laugh immoderately. But he with his rustic simplicity, being made ashamed, answered: 'Yes, sir--that is very true, and yet I assure you that I feel as sorrowful in this red beard as any other man does in his black one.'