From The Examiner. MR. GLAISHER'S ACCOUNT OF THE LATE HIGH BALLOON ASCENT AT WOLVERHAMPTON. On the earth at 1h. 3m. the temperature of the air was 59 deg., at the height of one mile it was 39 deg., and shortly afterwards we entered a cloud of about 1,100 feet in thickness, in which the temperature of the air fell to 36 1-2 deg., and the wet bulb thermometer read the same, showing that the air here was saturated with moisture. On emerging from the cloud at 1h. 17m. we came into a flood of light, with a beautiful blue sky, without a cloud above us, and a magnificent sea of cloud below, its surface being varied with endless hills, hillocks, mountain chains, and many snow-white masses rising from it. I here tried to take a view with the camera, but we were rising with too great rapidity, and going round and round too quickly to enable me to do so; the flood of light, however, was so great, that all I should have needed would have been a momentary exposure, as Dr. Hill Norris had kindly furnished me with extremely sensitive dry plates for the purpose. When we reached two miles in height, at 1h. 21m., the temperature had fallen to the freezing point. We were three miles high at 1h. 28m., with a temperature of 18 deg.; at 1h. 39m. we had reached four miles, and the temperature was 8 deg.; in ten minutes more we had reached the fifth mile, and the temperature had passed below zero, and then read minus 2 deg., and at this point no dew was observed on Regnault's Hygrometer when cooled down to minus 30 deg. Up to this time I had taken the observations with comfort. I had experienced no difficulty in breathing, whilst Mr. Coxwell, in consequence of the necessary exertions he had to make, had breathed with difficulty for some time. At 1h. 51m. the barometer reading was 11.05 inches, but which requires a subtractive correction of 0.25 inch, as found by comparison with Lord Wrottesley's standard barometer just before starting, both by his lordship and myself, which would reduce it to 10.8 inches, or at a height of about 5 3-4 miles. I read the dry bulb thermometer as minus 5 deg.; in endeavoring to read the wet bulb I could not see the column of mercury. I rubbed my eyes, then took a lens and also failed. I then tried to read the other instruments, and found I could not do so, nor see the hands of the watch. I asked Mr. Coxwell to help me, and he said he must go into the ring and he would when he came down. I endeavored to reach some brandy which was lying on the table, at the distance of about a foot from my hand, and found myself unable to do so. My sight became more dim. I looked at the barometer and saw it between 10 and 11 inches, and tried to record it, but was unable to write. I then saw it at 10 inches, still decreasing fast, and just noted it in my book; its true reading, therefore, at this time was about 9 3-4 inches, implying a height of 5 3-4 miles, as a change of one inch in the reading of the barometer at this elevation takes place on a change of height of 2,500 feet. I felt I was losing all power, and endeavored to rouse myself by struggling and shaking. I attempted to speak, and found I had lost the power. I attempted to look at the barometer again; my head fell on one side; I struggled and got it right, and it fell on the other, and finally fell backwards. My arm, which had been resting on the table, fell down by my side. I saw Mr. Coxwell dimly in the ring; it became more misty, and finally dark, and I sank unconsciously as in sleep. This must have been about 1h. 54m. I then heard Mr. Coxwell say, "What is the temperature? Take an observation. Now try." But I could neither see, move, nor speak. I then heard him speak more emphatically, "Take an observation. Now, do try." I shortly afterwards opened my eyes, saw the instruments and Mr. Coxwell very dimly, and soon saw clearly, and said to Mr. Coxwell, “I have been insensible;" and he replied, "You have, and I nearly." I recovered quickly, and Mr. Coxwell said, "I have lost the use of my hands, give me some brandy to bathe them." His hands were nearly black. I saw the temperature was still below zero, and the barometer reading 11 inches, but increasing quickly. I resumed my observations at 2h. 7m., recording the barometer reading 11.53 inches and the temperature minus 2. I then found that the water in the vessel supplying the wet-bulb thermometer, which I had by frequent disturbances kept from freezing, was one mass of ice. Mr. Coxwell then told me that whilst in the ring he felt it piercingly cold, that hoar frost was all round the neck of the balloon, and on attempting to leave the ring | ribbon by which its neck was encircled, and it was then jerked off the finger, and it flew with some vigor finally towards Wolverhampton. Not one however had returned when I left on the afternoon of the 6th. Too much praise cannot be given to Mr. Proud, the engineer of the gas works, for the production of gas of such a small specific gravity. It would seem from these facts that five miles is very nearly the limit of human existence. It is possible, as the effect of each high ascent upon myself has been different, that in another I might be able to go higher; and it is possible that some persons may be able to exist with less air and bear a greater degree of cold, but still I think prudence would say to all, whenever the barometer reading falls as low as eleven inches, open the valve at once, the increased information to be attained is not commensurate with the increased risk. Sept. 9. JAMES GLAISHER. From Punch. AWFUL SCENE AT BIARRITZ. he found his hands frozen, and he got down how he could; that he found me motionless, with a quiet and placid expression on the countenance; he spoke to me without eliciting a reply, and found I was insensible. He then said he felt that insensibility was coming over himself, that he became anxious to open the valve, that his hands failed him, and that he seized the line between his teeth and pulled the valve open until the balloon took a turn downwards. This act is quite characteristic of Mr. Coxwell. I have never yet seen him without a ready means of meeting every difficulty as it has arisen, with a cool self-possession that has always left my mind perfectly easy, and given to me every confidence in his judgment in the management of so large a balloon. On asking Mr. Coxwell whether he had noticed the temperature, he said he could not, as the faces of the instrument were all towards me; but that he had noticed that the centre of the aneroid barometer, its blue hand, and a rope attached to the car, were in the same straight line; if so, the reading must have been between 7 and 8 inches. A height of 6 1-2 miles corresponds to 8 inches. A delicate self-registering minim thermometer read minus 12 deg., but unfortunately I did not read it till I was out of the car, and I cannot say that its index was not disturbed on descending. When the temperature rose to 17 deg. it was remarked as warm, and 24 deg. as very warm. The temperature gradually and constantly increased to 57 deg. on reaching the ground. It was remarked that the sand was warm to the hand, and steamed on being discharged. Six pigeons were taken up-one was thrown out at the height of three miles, it extended its wings and dropped as a piece of paper; a second at four miles flew vigorously round and round, apparently taking a great dip at each time. A third was thrown out between four and Mr. P. All very fine, but you don't impose five miles, and it fell downwards. A fourth upon me with your reticence. A Frenchman was thrown out at four miles when descend- thinks it such a miracle that a man is able ing; it flew in a circle, and shortly alighted to hold his tongue, that you astonish your on the balloon. The two remaining pigeons subjects by your silence, but we are not to were brought down to the ground. One be done that way. What are you going to was found dead, and the other a "carrier," do? had attached to its neck a note. It would not, however, leave, and when cast off the finger returned to the hand. After a quarter of an hour it began to peck a piece of The MAN OF SILENCE has just entered his dressing-room near the sea. The door of the apartment is violently burst open, and enter to him the MAN OF FLEET STREET. Mr. Punch. I say. Come. The Emperor. Come where, my friend, and would you shut that door, as there is no end of a draught? Mr. P. You are surprised to see me? Mr. P. Well then, I am, sometimes. And this is one of the times. How came you to run away from Paris without seeing me? The E. My friend ! Mr. P. Oh, bother, don't friend me. I consider that you have behaved uncommonly rudely, and that's all about it. The E. If so, allons! The E. Bathe. Mr. P. I say not too much of that sort of thing with me. I like the epigrammatic as well as anybody, but there is a time when it is a man's business to open his mouth. Is there not? The E. At seven. Come. Don't dress. Mr. P. I'll tell you what, Elected of the Millions, you'll rile me presently. Yes, I will dine with you, but look here. I have come to you upon the Italian question, and I demand to know your intentions. I ought to be aware of everything! The E. Who is, if not you? Mr. P. A very proper compliment, Louis Napoleon, but I am not exactly in the mood for compliments at this present speaking. It is perfectly clear that a crisis has arrived, and that the eyes of all Europe are now turned upon you. The E. Rude of Europe. [Draws down blind. Mr. P. My dear Emperor, I am not here to learn that you have plenty of esprit, or that you might write a whole Charivari by $ yourself, if you could get your censor's leave to publish. Now let me have a serious answer to a serious question. What order have you sent to your General in Rome ? The E. The Legion of Honor. Mr. P. Nephew of your Uncle, do not provoke me too much, for this is very hot weather, and I have a temper to match. Garibaldi has made his attempt, is defeated, and is a wounded prisoner. The movement is at an end. The E. How carefully you have read the papers. Mr. P. You want to put me into a passion, do you, Sire? Then you just sha'n't. Now, Mr. Protector of Rome, you perceive that the good King, Victor Emmanuel, is quite capable of protecting Rome without your aid, and so you may march out with perfect comfort-for the door is open. The E. (Looks at handle.) No, it is closed, but I thank you. Mr. P. You will not have much reason to thank me, presently. Do you hear what I say? Rome does not want you there any longer. So are you going to walk out? The E. With the Empress, at two. Mr. P. Emperor, you have no business in the Eternal City. I tell you that your occupation is indefensible. The E. (Shows paper.) Why, I am only drawing caricatures for my child. Mr. P. Your occupation of Rome, Sire. You understand me perfectly well. The E. Who misunderstands lucidity personified ? Mr. P. I am all that, no doubt. But I repeat my question, and I demand a response. The E. Amen! Mr. P. What do you mean by that! The E. (mildly.) That is a response, I believe. At least I have always understood so from the priests. Mr. P. Emperor of the French, or rather of France, a dark thought strikes me. Is it possible that you have not made up your mind upon the course you are to adopt? If so I think you ought to be ashamed of yourself. But if you are in doubt, it is well I came. I will direct you as to the course. The E. De Morny manages my racing. Mr. P. Does he? I wish your Imperial Stableship much joy. You are dexterous, Sire, but I return to the charge, and I design to do so again and again until I have elicited the truth. What line are you going to take? The E. For my return to Paris? There is but one. We do not waste money on half a dozen railways to the same place, like certain islanders. The South-Western. Mr. P. Son of Queen Hortense, would you do me the favor to avoid levity when we are speaking on a grave subject. The E. We? You. Mr. P Ah, yes, but you shall speak on it also before I have done with you. If you are firm, I am obstinate. Sire, it is now as useless as it is unjust for you to continue your occupation of Rome. Do you intend to bring it to an end. The E. Rome? Fate forbid ! Mr. P. What-what do you mean by Rome ? The E. The capital of Mr. P. (eagerly.) Ah? The E. (smiles.) Of the temporal dominions of his Holiness the Pope. Mr. P. Bah, but what do you mean by invoking Fate about Rome ? The E. You asked me, my valued friend, whether I intended to destroy Rome, or you used words to that effect. Mr. P. When the Artful Dodger dies you shall be Dodger, though I had promised the place to your friend Dizzy. Are you not going to let me into your confidence; me, Punch, your truest and best ally? The E. I am. Pardon me that I have hesitated, but it was in the hopes of gaining from your wisdom some new light upon my situation. Mr. P. (blushing.) Nay, I am sure that I shall be but too happy, Sire, to afford you any new light in my power. The E. You can give me much. Would you touch the spring of that blind? Mr. P. (does so. The blind flies up.) Well, Sire ? The E. (smiles.) You see, I did not overrate your ability. Mr. P. By Jove! But I'll keep my tem per. The E. It is always well to do so. In reward for your heroic effort, walk up-stairs and see the Empress, and tell her that you are coming to dinner. And she will show you the child. If you are good-natured, you will tell him a story. Mr. P. (with profound intention.) Shall I tell him that the child of the First Napoleon was King of Rome. The E. (with intense explosion.) Ha! You have but no matter, no matter. Go to the Empress, my dear friend, go to the Empress. [Rushes out. Mr. P. He has dashed into the sea with his clothes on. But I have undressed his soul. Ha! [Is left in an attitude, considering several things. From Punch. THE NAGGLETONS. A DOMESTIC DRAMA. up The Scene represents the Parlor, Hall, and Doorsteps of a genteel house in the suburbs of the Metroplis. Various boxes, done in white and corded, also portmanteaus and carpet-bags, also a bonnet-box, and a bundle of umbrellas, sticks, and a fishingrod, are disposed in the Hall. Mr. Naggleton (Fussing about.) Now, Maria, it is nine o'clock. Mrs. N. (looking as objectionable as a woman always does when she has a travelling dress on, no gloves, and a cross aspect.) Well, what if it is ? Mr. N. Train starts at 9.40. Mrs. N. That's ten minutes to ten. Mr. N. I tell you it is twenty minutes to ten, and we have got to get to the Station. Do Mrs. N. You need not tell me that. you think I suppose the train starts from this door? Mr. N. No; but if we are to catch it, we ought to be off. Mrs. N. What nonsense! As if we should be three-quarters of an hour going there. Mr. N. Why no, for if we are, we shall miss the train by five minutes. Mrs. N. No, we sha'n't, but you are always in such a fidget, and you like to be an hour before time. Mr. N. Better so than an hour after it. Are you ready? Mrs. N. I don't know. noise? What's that Mr. N. You did nothing of the kind. There they are in your basket. Mrs. N. Then you must have put 'em there. Mr. N. How could that be when you had the basket on your arm all the time. But you've got them-what else have you got to dawdle for ? Mrs. N. Oh, there! I declare I had rather stay in town all the rest of my life than be hunted and driven like this. Have you written the directions for the luggage? Mr. N. Lor, woman, yes, and stuck 'em on an hour ago. Mrs. N. I dare say they'll all come off in not suppose that there is another father in the terrace who would be happy in leaving the journey. Mr. N. I dare say they'll do nothing of town without taking his children with him. the kind. Mr. N. Now how in the name of every Mrs. N. You know they all did when we thing that iswent to Boulogne. Mr. N. I know that one did, which was your own putting on. Mine I pasted firmly on that occasion, and they are on the boxes now. Mrs. N. Yes, disfiguring them, and making them look like I don't know what. Mr. N. Can't we finish the Boulogne dispute in the cab, as the time is getting on? But you like to be late-you think it fine. Mrs. N. How can you talk such rubbish? Mr. N. I ask you again what the-what are we waiting for? Mrs. N. Your language is getting perfectly horrible, Henry. They say such things are a sign of incipient softening of the brain. I hope it may not be true, but Dr. Winslow is certainly an authority. Mr. N. Bosh! I was only saying how could the children have gone with us, when James expressly said in his invitation that he had only one room to offer? Mrs. N. And you were so eager to accept that invitation, while if we had accepted Aunt Flaggerty's, we could all have gone; but Aunt Flaggerty doesn't fish, and Mrs. N. We are waiting till I am ready, smoke, and drink gin and water in the evenand are likely to wait till then. Mr. N. I wish I knew within half an hour or so how soon that would be, because I would like a stroll and a cigar. ing. Mr. N. It may be so. Mrs. N. Henry! If you dare to insult a relative who is so dear to me, in your own Mrs. N. You would vex the soul out of a mind, common decency might induce you to saint. keep such sentiments to yourself. Mr. N. I never had the chance of trying. But, my dear, I should like to go to Worthing to-day, unless you have any strong objection. (Rings.) Mrs. N. What are you ringing for? Mr. N. Pray what for? Where's Morton, whose business it is to attend to them? Mrs. N. Perhaps, Henry, you will permit me to manage my servants in my own way? Mr. N. It seems to me that they manage you. Mrs. N. I can't answer such vulgarity. Mr. N. I know you can't answer what I say. But, once more, who is to attend to the boxes, if you send the servants out of the way in this ridiculous manner? Mrs. N. You have no more feeling for your children than a stone. I desired the servants to stay up-stairs with the poor things, that they might not know that we were going away. Mr. N. Pack of nonsense, they must know it half an hour later, and what's the sense of spoiling children in that absurd way? Mrs. N. It's very little chance our children have of being spoiled, Henry. I do Mr. N. I never said a word against the old lady. But I certainly had no great inclination for evenings of reading Alison, and soda-water and bedroom candles at halfpast nine. Mrs. N. Of course you think of nobody but yourself. Mr. N. Yes, I think of you, and how pleased and amiable you will look when we get to the terminus and find the doors closed, as we certainly shall. Mrs. N. We shall do nothing of the kind. Mr. N. I believe you are right, we shall find them open again, and the clerks giving tickets for the next train, which does not go to Worthing. Mrs. N. It will be all your own fault if we do, standing here annoying me instead of putting the boxes into the cab. Mr. N. It's not my business. Let the servants do it. Mrs. N. There, hold your tongue. I will do it. (Seizes a vast box.) Mr. N. Maria, are you mad? Mrs. N. It is enough to make me so, being nagged and worried as I am. Mr. N. Here (opens street-door), cabman! Cabman. Here you are, sir! Mr. N. I know that, but I want you here. Put these things in and about the cab. |