Ancestor of Pictorial Postcards

1910

It was in Switzerland that the mania for pictorial postcards first arose, and we well remember the astonishment evoked some dozen years ago at seeing at the Theodule Hut the excitement of a party of Germans upon their ascertaining that they could dispatch thence, via Italy, a sheaf of views of the Matterhorn.

If one may judge from the very interesting collection of old Alpine prints now on view at the Alpine club, Saville Row, our ancestors were also eager to carry away souvenirs of scenes unlike any to which they were accustomed, and of which the terrors and dangers were doubtless not unexaggerated. And so the Swiss, who were among the earliest to exploit colored engravings, provided them with material with a sufficient spice of exaggeration to satisfy those who stayed at home.

These they dedicated to the "amateurs of the marvels of nature," and for them they crowded into a single landscape a dozen Staubbachs, and any number of aiguilles and glaciers, with artists portraying them and peasants holding festival beneath them. — London Globe.

An Unopened Padlock — A Legend of Vienna

1907

Vienna's Strange Relic That Defied the World's Locksmiths

In 1810 a blacksmith went to Vienna and locked an iron band around a tree with a padlock. What he did with the key no one knows to this day. There is a mirthful legend to the effect that he carelessly threw it into the air and that it never came down again. At any rate, the key could not be found, and the Austrian government offered prize of 500 ducats to anyone who could make a key that would turn the bolt in the lock without breaking it.

Many have tried to win the prize, but nobody has won it. Eventually it became the practice among the contestants to drive a nail in the tree and the heads of some of the nails bear the initials of those who drove them. The practice of driving nails into the tree sealed its fate. The lower part of the tree in a few years assumed the appearance of a solid mass of iron. One spring the leaves failed to come out, and later a summer storm blew the top away.

The historic stump was cut off and placed on a pedestal on one of the prominent street corners in Vienna. At the same time the iron band was cut in two and put around the stump to hold it in its niche, leaving the padlock in its original position. And there the old stump stands to this day an object both of the curiosity of tourists and the veneration of the residents of Vienna. Incidentally, a street, Stock im Eisen — "Stick in Iron" — has been named after the stump. — Scrap Book.