A crew of giggling servant-maids will get hold of some simple
swain, and send him to a bookseller's shop for the 'History of Eve's
Grandmother,' or to a chemist's for a pennyworth of 'pigeon's milk,' or
to the cobbler's for a little '_strap_-oil,' in which last case the
messenger secures a hearty application of the strap to his shoulders,
and is sent home in a state of bewilderment as to what the affair means.
The urchins in the street make a sport of calling to some passing beau
to look to his coat-skirts; when he either finds them with a piece of
paper pinned to them or not; in either of which cases he is saluted as
an 'April-fool!'"
[Illustration: FIRST OF APRIL DANGER.]
It has been said that "what compound is to simple addition, so is Scotch
to English April-fooling." The people living in Scotland are not content
with making a neighbor believe some single piece of absurdity, but
practice jokes upon him _ad infinitum_. Having found some unsuspecting
person, the individual playing the joke sends him away with a letter to
some friend residing two or three miles off, for the professed purpose
of asking for some useful information, or requesting a loan of some
article, while in reality the letter contains only the words:
"This is the first day of April,
Hunt the gowk another mile."
The person to whom the letter is sent at once catches the idea of the
person sending it, and informs the carrier with a very grave face that
he is unable to grant his friend the favor asked, but if he will take a
second note to Mr.
Pages:
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100