The very beginning of the story: MANKIND, says a Chinese manuscript, which my friend M. was obliging enough to read and explain to me, for the first seventy thousand ages ate their meat raw, clawing or biting it from the living animal, just as they do in Abyssinia to this day. This period is not obscurely hinted at by their great Confucius in the second chapter of his Mundane Mutations, where he designates a kind of golden age by the term Cho-fang, literally the Cooks' holiday. The manuscript goes on to say, that the art ...
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The very beginning of the story: MANKIND, says a Chinese manuscript, which my friend M. was obliging enough to read and explain to me, for the first seventy thousand ages ate their meat raw, clawing or biting it from the living animal, just as they do in Abyssinia to this day. This period is not obscurely hinted at by their great Confucius in the second chapter of his Mundane Mutations, where he designates a kind of golden age by the term Cho-fang, literally the Cooks' holiday. The manuscript goes on to say, that the art of roasting, or rather broiling (which I take to be the elder brother) was accidentally discovered in the manner following: The swineherd, Ho-Ti, having gone out in the woods one morning, as his manner was, to collect masts for his hogs, left his cottage in the care of his eldest son Bo-bo, a great lubberly boy, who being fond of playing with fire, as younkers of his age commonly are, let some sparks escape into a bundle of straw, which kindling quickly, spread the conflagration over every part of their poor mansion, till it was reduced to ashes. Together with the cottage, (a sorry antediluvian makeshift of a building, you may think it), what was of much more importance, a fine litter of new-farrowed pigs, no less than nine in number, perished. China pigs had been esteemed a luxury all over the East, from the remotest periods that we read of. Bo-Bo was in the utmost consternation, as you may think, not so much for the sake of the tenement, which his father and he could easily build up again with a few dry branches, and the labour of an hour or two, at any time, as for the loss of the pigs. While he was thinking what he should say to his father, and wringing his hands over the smoking remnants of one of those untimely sufferers, an odour assailed his nostrils, unlike any scent which he had before experienced. What could it proceed from?-not from the burnt cottage-he had smelt that smell before-indeed this was by no means the first accident of the kind which had occured through the negligence of this unlucky young firebrand. Much less did it resemble that of any known herb, weed, or flower. A premonitory moistening at the same time overflowed his nether lip. He knew not what to think. He next stooped down to feel the pig, if there were any signs of life in it. He burnt his fingers, and to cool them he applied them in his booby fashion to his mouth. Some of the crumbs of the scorched skin had come away with his fingers, and for the first time in his life (in the world's life indeed, for before him no man had known it) he tasted- crackling! Again he felt and fumbled at the pig. It did not burn him so much now, still he licked his finger from a sort of habit. The truth at length broke into his slow understanding, that it was the pig that smelt so, and the pig that tasted so delicious; and surrendering himself up to the newborn pleasure, he fell to tearing up whole handfuls of the scorched skin with the flesh next it, and was cramming it down his throat in his beastly fashion, when his sire entered amid the smoking rafters, armed with retributory cudgel, and finding how affairs stood, began to rain blows upon the young rogue's shoulders, as thick as hailstones, which Bo-Bo heeded not any more than if they had been flies....
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Seller's Description:
L. J. Bridgman. 12mo, pages not numbered. Illustrated by L. J. Bridgman. AEG. Patterned paper over boards, maroon cloth spine with gilt stamping. Donor's presentation on flyleaf. Cover somewhat worn at corners and edges, interior VG. A juvenile.
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Seller's Description:
Acceptable. Acceptable condition. (essays, charles lamb, england) A readable, intact copy that may have noticeable tears and wear to the spine. All pages of text are present, but they may include extensive notes and highlighting or be heavily stained. Includes reading copy only books.
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Seller's Description:
Near Fine. Hardcover with blue paper boards, 1947, 16mo. (4 1/4 x 6 3/8"), 18pp., frontispiece and decoration by Will Bradley. Book near fine with mild sun to spine, title plate on front board slightly rubbed, binding tight, text clean and unmarked. No DJ.
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Seller's Description:
Poor. No Jacket. Undated. boards are worn, chipped and knocked. thorough foxing, staining and marks. loose binding and visible netting. very poor copy. [SK]
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Seller's Description:
Wilfred Jones. Near Fine in Very Good Plus jacket. Signed by Illustrator Charles Lamb (1775-1834), certainly one of the finest of the English essayists, remains popular to this day. This famous humourous essay was one of the "Essays of Elia" published serially between 1820 and 1824. This is a Near Fine to Fine copy of the First Edition Thus, a strikingly-beautiful production, LIMITED to 950 copies and SIGNED by the illustrator, Wilfred Jones (1888-1968). Very scarce. Fancy decorated paper-covered boards, with a vellum spine. Printed on Okawara paper, a truly beautiful production with extraordinary illustrations. The slipcase has some minor shelfwear and some minor chips along the folds. Size: 8vo-over 7¾"-9¾" tall.
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Seller's Description:
107p. A hardcover book in near-fine condition with damaged slipcase. The book is clean and tight apart from an embossed stamp on the front free endpaper. The slipcase has been repaired with clear tape along the edges. Illustrated by Richard Floethe. Undated; ca. 1960.
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Seller's Description:
Near Fine. Book Clean orange shantung cloth boards with unchipped paper label on cover. No fraying or wear. Binding is tight and square, hinges are sound. Pages are clean, including endpapers; no names, writing or marks. Illustrated with line drawings. A keepsake printed for the friends of the Comet Press at holiday-time, this is Charles Lamb's famed treatise on the origin of roast pig.
