Tread Wheels.

75

Chap. 10.]

their occupation, were named twnspits. The mode of teaching them,was more summary than humane. The animal was put into a wheel, thesides of which were closed, and a burning coal thrown in behind him;hence he could not stop climbing without having his legs burned. Asmight be supposed, they were by no means attached to their profession;of which the following incident has been adduced as a proof: In a cer-tain city, having agreeably to custom, attended their owners to church,the lesson for the day, happened to be that chapter of Ezekiel whereinthe self-moving chariots are described. When the minister first pro-nouneed the word ‘wheel' they all pricked up their ears in alarm—at thesecond mention of it, they set up a doleful howl; and when the awfulword was uttered a third time, every one it is said, made the best of hisway out of the church.

But the most singulär animal formerly used in thus turning the spit,was a hird, and of a species too which furnished more victims for theroast than any other, viz. the goose! Moxon, observes that although dogswere commonly used, “ geese are better, for they will bear their laborlonger, so that if there be need, they will continue their labor twelvehours.” a A singulär illustration of man’s power over the lower animals,in thus compelling one to cook another of its own species for his use.

The old jack, consisting of three toothed wheels and a weight, wasused as early as 1444. The smoke jack was known in the following Cen-tury, if not before, for it was described by Cardan, and afterwards (in1571) by Bartolomeo Scappi , cook to Pope Pius V. in a book on culinaryoperations. In 1601, a ‘jack maker’ was a regulär trade in Europe, andthe ingenuity of the manufacturers was then often displayed in decoratingthem with moving puppets, as in some ancient clocks, and in the Organs,&c. of Street musieians. Bishop Wilkins, (Mathematical Magic , B. ii,cap . 3) speaks of “jacks no bigger than a walnut to turn any joint of meat.”

The name of these machines, and a certain vulgär phrase, not yetquite obsolete, are all that is left to recal to mind, a dass of domestics,whose occupation, like Othello’s, is gone. These were men whose dutyit was to turn the spit, and who answered to the familiär eognomen of‘Jack,’ formerly a common name for a man-servant, and now applied todesignate numerous instruments that supply his place. Seated at oneside of a huge fire, his duty was to turn the roast by a crank attached toone end of the spit. See a figure of a French tourne-broche in the exer-cise ofhis vocation, in ‘Hone’s Every Day Book.’ vol. ii, 1057. The officewas far from being a sinecure, since no slight labor was required to movethe large joints of olden times, the whole of a sheep or an ox being fre-quently roasted at onee; hence in some kitchens built in the 13th Century,it was particularly directed, that each should be provided with furnacessufficiently large to roast two or even three oxen. It was from the cus-tom of these artists, of surreptitiously helping themselves to small piecesof the roast, while in the performance of their duty, the unclassical ex-pression ‘licking the fingers,’ came, and verifying a Turkish proverb, ‘hethat watches the kettle, is sure to have some of the soup.’ The phrasehowever, was not then so obnoxious to good taste, nor the act to goodmanners, as now ; for table-forks were generally unknown, and moderatesized joints were handed round on the spit, so that every one at table,separated by a knife a slice to his taste, and conveyed it by his fingers

a Meehanick Powers, Lon. 1696. p. 72.