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Updated: June 14, 2025
He was so tall, that the barber had to stand on the table to shave him, and as he walked along the streets, he could hand sugar-plums to the children in the upper windows; and his voice was so loud, that he once made a stone-deaf woman jump off her chair, right up to the ceiling, with fright, when he raised it above the ordinary pitch to speak to her; and he was so strong, that he made nothing of lifting an ale cask to his lips, and drinking out of the bung-hole.
Referring to the so-called positron, the positive particle regarded as the polar opposite of the negative electron, he remarks: 'A positron is a hole from which an electron has been removed; it is a bung-hole which would be evened up with its surroundings if an electron were inserted. ... You will see that the physicist allows himself even greater liberty than the sculptor.
For Plato, to describe a silly, raw, ignorant fellow, compares him to those that are bred on shipboard, as we would do one bred up in a barrel, who never saw anything but through the bung-hole.
Water enters an under-drain, not from above, but from below; that is to say, as water, from whatever source, fills the subsoil, it rises therein until it reaches the floor of the drain, when it enters and is led away, just as water falling into a cask which stands on end flows off at the under side of the bung-hole when it reaches its level.
Then pour it into a keg of proper size for containing it, and let it ferment at the bung-hole; filling it up as it works out with some of the liquor reserved for that purpose. As soon as it ceases to hiss, stop it close with a cloth wrapped round the bung. A pint of white brandy for every gallon of the gooseberry wine may be added on bunging it up.
Crouching, always singing, on the twig of a suitable shrub or bush, she perforates the firm, glossy rind, distended by the sap which the sun has matured. Plunging her proboscis into the bung-hole, she drinks deliciously, motionless, and wrapt in meditation, abandoned to the charms of syrup and of song. Let us watch her awhile. Perhaps we shall witness unlooked-for wretchedness and want.
Take a Quart of Black Cherry Brandy, and pour it in at the Bung-hole of the Hogshead and stop it close. To recover deadish Beer. When strong Drink grows flat, by the loss of its Spirits, take four or five Gallons out of a Hogshead, and boil it with five Pound of Honey, skim it, and when cold, put it to the rest, and stop it up close: This will make it pleasant, quick and strong.
Then, after half lifting one to make sure it was full, we went on our knees and, with the blade of a small knife which I carried, I prepared to stave in the bung-hole. At that moment, I seemed to hear, coming from very far, a sort of monotonous chant which I knew well, from often hearing it in the streets of Paris: "Barrels! ... Barrels! ... Any barrels to sell?" My hand desisted from its work.
Here am I, the Professor, a man who has lived long enough to have plucked the flowers of life and come to the berries, which are not always sad-colored, but sometimes golden-hued as the crocus of April, or rosy-cheeked as the damask of June; a man who staggered against books as a baby, and will totter against them, if he lives to decrepitude; with a brain full of tingling thoughts, such as they are, as a limb which we call "asleep," because it is so particularly awake, is of pricking points; presenting a key-board of nerve-pulps, not as yet tanned or ossified, to finger-touch of all outward agencies; knowing nothing of the filmy threads of this web of life in which we insects buzz awhile, waiting for the gray old spider to come along; contented enough with daily realities, but twirling on his finger the key of a private Bedlam of ideals; in knowledge feeding with the fox oftener than with the stork, loving better the breadth of a fertilizing inundation than the depth of narrow artesian well; finding nothing too small for his contemplation in the markings of the grammatophora subtilissima, and nothing too large in the movement of the solar system towards the star Lambda of the constellation Hercules; and the question is, whether there is anything left for me, the Professor, to suck out of creation, after my lively friend has had his straw in the bung-hole of the Universe!
When your Drink is Tunn'd, fill your Vessel full, let it work at the Bung-hole, and have a reserve in a small Cask to fill it up, and don't put any of the Drink which will be under the Yeast after it is work'd over into your Vessels, but put it by itself in another Cask, for it will not be so good as your other in the Cask.
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