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ourself have said on this subject. The cheat was too transparent to last for any length of time. The question of rap-ping up Spirits has no connection whatever either with philosophy or science. Neither is it a delusion wrought on the minds of the practitioners. It is simply one of the newest modes of studied extortion. John Bull may be superstitious; but this is too large even for his swallow. We have heard of Judas Iscariot being recently seen reflected in the globules of a crystal. He was clad in scarlet hosen, and he wore an alarmingly large cocked-hat. The boy who held the crystal, declared he saw him thus habited. In his hand was a snuff box; and he sat cross-legged; in his mouth was a small pipe. The boy remarked, he was “blazing away.' He was mesmerised when he saw this. Here we have" the explanation." But the boy heard no rappings; and used no printed alphabet. He was wandering in his sleep; and his disordered brain saw a vision a droll one we confess. The sooner these tom-fooleries cease the better.]
Death of the mutilated Jackdaw at Southampton. The poor animal about whose cruel treatment you have so interested yourself, is dead. His sufferings have terminated. I observe the following remarks in the Hampshire Advertiser of May 7.-" The Mutilated Jackdaw. The poor pet at Blechynden-terrace, whose story has twice appeared in our columns, and afterwards been found worthy of a niche in KIDD'S JOURNAL, died about a month ago; as we learned upon recent inquiry. His mistresses were unceasing in their attentions to him, but he gradually dwindled away after our previous visit; and they imagine it was owing to the want of out-of-door's food, which the mutilation of his lower mandible prevented him from obtaining."-With all my endeavors, Mr. Editor, I have been unable to obtain the name of the fiend who committed this barbarous act of inhumanity. He is screened by everybody-as if he had done a meritorious action! What an unaccountable world this is!-HEARTSEASE, Hants.
[It is indeed, "Heartsease!" This fellow is even a greater miscreant than KING, who did finish roasting his victim and her unborn family. We lament, as much as you do, that we cannot immortalise his name; we still hope to be able to do so.]
England,- -or the Tropics?-Our country men are getting dissatisfied, Mr. Editor, with our happy land," and are flying all over the world. Let me recommend them to take a trip to a tropical climate, and then see if England has not some claims upon their love. To mention only one "treat" peculiar to tropical climates--the visitation of insects. Of these Sydney Smith says:-"The bête rouge lays the foundation of a tremendous ulcer. In a moment you are covered with ticks. Chigoes bury themselves in your flesh, and hatch a large colony of young chigoes in a few hours. They will not live together, but every chigoe sets up a separate ulcer, and hath his own private portion of pus. Flies get into your mouth, into your eyes, into your nose; you eat flies, drink flies, and breathe flies. Lizards, cockroaches, and snakes, get into your beds; ants eat up the books; scorpions sting you on the foot. Everything bites,
stings, or bruises. Every second of your existence you are wounded by some piece of animal life that nobody has ever seen before, except Swammerdam and Meriam. An insect with eleven legs is swimming in your tea-cup; a nondescript, with nine wings, is struggling in the small-beer; or a caterpillar, with several dozen eyes in his stomach, is hastening over the bread and butter. All nature is alive, and seems to be gathering all her entomological host to eat you up, as you are standing, out of coat, waistcoat, and over-alls. Such are the tropics! All this reconciles us to our dews, fogs, vapors and drizzle; to our apothecaries rushing about with tincture and gargles; to our old British constitutional coughs, sore throats, and swelled faces."-Aye, most truly reconciles us, say I. We never know half our comforts, till we are deprived of them.-JULIANA.
[Well spoken, "Juliana." "Old England for ever!" say we. If we cannot live here, we can live nowhere. There is very little poetical feeling abroad, we imagine.]
The Rose Maggot.-Two years ago, minutely inspecting the buds of my Rose-trees about the end of March, I observed some very small powdery matter about them, and on examining with a glass, I found a very small maggot in the bud; it occurred to me that as there are side buds which come into growth when the main bud is accidentally destroyed, I should possibly get rid of one set of caterpillars by removing all the main buds; I did so on a large branch, leaving the rest of the bush to take its chance. On the back of many of the buds I found the little creatures busy at work. I noticed the denuded branch during the summer, and found my conjecture confirmed. New buds came, and the branch was covered with flowers uninjured, whilst the rest of the tree was very much infested-the only drawback was, that the roses on the experimental branch came somewhat later. I repeated the experiment last year with the same result, and I make this communication in the hope that others may be induced to try the same mode of getting rid of one of our worst pests, as the plan has the advantage of extirpating, as far as it is practised, the propagation of the progeny. A quick hand, after the bushes are pruned, would soon clear a number of trees much quicker and very much better than could possibly be effected by hand-picking, when the mischief, in nine cases out of ten, is already irretrievably done. If any of your correspondents should try this mode, perhaps they will communicate their results.-T. H., Stoke Newington.
Destructive Birds.-Some remarks have lately appeared in your columns relative to destructive birds. If your correspondents could destroy the birds of which they speak, they would soon wish them all back again. A King of Prussia procured the destruction of sparrows throughout his dominions, but soon retraced his steps. One pair of sparrows in the spring and early summer destroy 6000 caterpillars a week. In the French game laws of 1840, or thereabouts, it is expressly enacted that it shall be lawful for the prefects of departments to forbid the destruction of all small birds. It is fit to add that bird-catching is practised on
the continent to a most extraordinary extent, and this provision is intended to check it, the act reciting that in consequence of such destruction it had been found that vegetation greatly suffered. Almost all the thick-billed birds which eat corn and seeds will also prey upon caterpillars, insects, and larvæ. In fact it is difficult to name a single bird which does not do as much good as harm. The bullfinch is perhaps a plague. Walk out quietly among your plum-trees, and you will see every now and then two or three of these birds quietly crushing the blossoming buds all over the tree; but these birds are not over numerous. Wood-pigeons have increased of late years, so as to become a nuisance; they will shear off entire rows of peas as clean as a rabbit. The two latternamed birds do not, as far as I am aware, compensate for the mischief they do. The preservation of game, causing the extirpation of nearly all the birds and animals of prey, have immensely increased the numbers of the feathered tribes, and at the same time in a great measure stopped the predatory incursions of the bird-nester in our fields and woods. Thus the equilibrium of check and counter-check, which in such things constitutes the economy of nature, is somewhat interfered with.-I.
Our Native Flowers.-Perhaps no one of your readers would dissent from the proposition that beauty, not rarity, is the first quality to be desired in the tenants of our parterres; and, for ourselves, we have no hesitation in saying, that that gardener should not have the direction of our flower-borders who rejected the beautiful, because it was common, to make room for the more insignificant, merely because it was scarce. No; we prefer, before all other considerations, beauty of color, beauty of form, and excellence of fragrance. Moreover, we are not of those who admire most that which costs most; but, on the contrary, we should be best delighted to save every guinea we could from being expended upon the tenants of our out-door departments, in order that we might have that guinea to spare upon our stove and greenhouse, the denizens in which must, beyond escape, be excellent, in proportion to their costliness. We make these observations, because we happen to know that effects the most beautiful may be obtained by the aid of our native plants. We have seen rustic seats looking gay, yet refreshing, from their profuse clothing of our Vinca minor and major; and we will venture to wager a Persian melon against a pompion, that half the amateur gardeners of England would not recognise these flowers in their cultivated dwelling-place. Again, if any one wishes to have the soil beneath his shrub beries gladsome in early spring, let him introduce that pretty page-like flower, the wood anemone, to wave and flourish over the primroses and violets. Let him have there, also, and in his borders too, the blue and the white forget-me-not, Myosotis palustris and M. Alba. We will venture the same wager, that not a tithe of your readers ever saw that last-named gay little native. Mr. Paxton's observation applies to them both, when he says, as a border-flower it has a very high characteristic -it only requires planting in a moist soil, slightly sheltered and shaded, to become a truly brilliant object; it is equally good for forcing, very valu
able for bouquets, and alike fit for windows, greenhouses, borders, and beds. Under favorable cultivation, its blossoms increase in size nearly onehalf. The plants only required to be divided annually, and to have the flower-spikes cut off as the lower-florets decay. By thus preventing their seeding, a very protracted display of bloom is obtained. These are not a hundredth part of the native flowers which might be introduced with the happiest effect into our gardens.-GEORGE GLENNY.
Australia; two sides to every Question.-The climate of Australia has been much lauded in OUR JOURNAL, and no doubt, the climate, at certain seasons, is lovely. But is it always so? Listen! Mr. W. Howitt, writing from the Ovens Diggings, says:-"The season has been frightfully unhealthy, and the journey to the gold-fields has been fatal to many. Thousands have been struck down by sickness; hundreds have already returned, cursing the parties who sent them such one-sided statements of the gold-fields and the climate. Hundreds were still lying ill from the insidious influence of this fine, salubrious climate.' In a letter just received from Melbourne, I hear that scarcely a soul there but has been ill, and all up the country it is the same. Gentlemen who have been in India, China, and over the whole continents of Europe and America, say that this is the worst climate they know. Without any apparent cause people are everywhere attacked with dysentery, rheumatism, cramp, and influenza. All this ought to be fully and fairly stated. One-sided statements are a dishonest procedure-'a delusion, a mockery, and a snare.' The little black fly of Australia is a perfect devil. The grass-seeds in summer, which pierce your legs like needles, will actually run through the sheep-skins into the flesh of the sheep, and into their lungs, and kill them; but this is more particularly the case with the seed-spikes of a wild geranium, which act like corkscrews. The dust winds, and the violent variations of the atmosphere-often of no less than 100 degrees in a day-these are nuisances which ought to be well-known. A deal is said about sending out young women to marry men in the bush. God help such young women as marry the greater portion of such fellows as the common class here. Their very language is perfectly measled with obscenity and the vilest oaths and the basest phraseology, and they drink all they can get. In short, this is a country to come to, as people go to India, to make money; as to spending it here, that, under present circumstances, would require different tastes to those of most cultivated men and women. The greatest thing that can be said of this country is, that the better classes are so exceedingly kind and hospitable, and, considering their isolated lives, not deficient in general information. I am sure we shall always have occasion to remember the kindness of the inhabitants of the bush. Every house, if we had desired it, would have opened itself to us as a home, and, but for bush kindness, I should, perhaps, not have been writing this."-Do, Mr. Editor, print this little extract. It may do some real good. It can do no harm.-REBECCA J.
[The accounts now arriving from Australia are terrific-really no other word is suitable to express one's sentiments. If thousands are going out,
as many thousands are pining to come back. Most of our young clerks are breaking stones upon the highways-a mode of practising "vulgar fractions" they little dreamt of, when quitting salaries of £180 to £250 a year, in England, to search for gold, abroad. Well! good comes out of evil very often. When these young sparks return, let us hope they will have become "seasoned" by adversity, and better able to judge when they are "well off."]
The Dormouse. It may assist the interesting inquiry instituted in your last, about the tail of the Dormouse, if I send you some extracts I have copied from a recent number of " Household Words." At the same time, a good idea may be obtained of the animal's habits. The French call him " Croquenoix" or "crack walnut," but schoolboys like him best under the English name. The great point of the Croquenoix or Dormouse, in the estimation of schoolboy fanciers, is its tail, on the length and beauty of which depends its value. Every other feature is sure to be pretty, but the tail itself is exceedingly fragile and precarious. If you lay hold of him by the tail while he is wide awake and in a state of alarm, he will make his escape most unexpectedly, by leaving the member (or its skin with the fur) in your hand. And a dormouse is not like a lizard; he cannot reproduce the loss. The disfigurement is never afterwards repaired. Therefore, the importance attached to the tail. The boys are the authority that there is a marked difference between the tails of the French and English dormouse. Therefore, they are probably, if not two distinct species, at least two decided and permanent varieties. Let us suppose so. The dormouse makes a round little nest of dried leaves, moss, and dead grass, and places it on the ground, or on the branch of a low bush. Here he sleeps all winter in solitary repose; every individual having a nest to himself-waking now and then on mild days, to munch a morsel of his nutty store. In confinement, dormice live happily enough in company, but the accustomed materials of their native habitation must be supplied to them for bedding; hair, wool, and what we might think warm and comfortable proving injurious to their health. It is odd that, although their home is amongst the trees, upon the branches, and in a chalk-bottomed forest where there is not a single permanent pond or brook, they are nevertheless very thirsty creatures, and are exceedingly fond of washing their face and hands. Except during rainy weather, the dew on the leaves must be the only available water they can find. The staple of their diet is nuts; almonds are particularly delighted in; but they now and then enjoy a green hazelleaf, or a slice of ripe fruit. Wild cherries abound in the forest; and the stones of these, which you find on the ground, often bear evidence of having had their kernels emptied by dormice. The little beast is not so foolish as to crack his nuts; that would give him unnecessary trouble He makes just one little hole in the shell, about as big as a pin's head, and through that he extracts, or laps out, the kernel with his tongue. By the way, he laps his drink like a dog or cat; and if he is very tame, or very thirsty (I would not say which), when you handle him, he will gently lick the moisture of perspiration from off your hand. Of
course, he knows a good nut from a bad one, as soon as he touches it, without further ado. They readily breed in captivity, producing from five to eight at a birth. They come into the world blind and naked, and must not be disturbed too early in the nest, or the mother will prove infanticide. Otherwise, her affection for them is extreme; to secure a nest of young ones insures the securing of their parent. She will run squeaking down the branch of a tree into your very hand, with the delicate bristles of her tail erect, her eyes flashing tiny sparks of fire; in short, the miniature of a raging lioness. And her bite, though it won't do much more than draw blood, like a pin-prick, is sharp enough to make you cry out "oh!" and laugh at the same time. When the little ones make their appearance out of doors at last, and play about with their dam at night— for their general habits are completely nocturnal and whisk their delicate feather-like tails, and twinkle their round black bead-like eyes, they are very taking little animals. And, as in other members of their tribe, those brilliant eyes are so convex and short-sighted, that you may watch them close at hand without their being aware of it; if you will only keep yourself quiet and silent. They must be kept in strict confinement, or they will hop off for a ramble, and forget to return. Still, they are used to a settled home, and like to have an apartment which they can call their own. We have shut our young friends out of their bed-chamber, and they have opened the door with their own little hands, to force their way back again in spite of us. I say "hands," because 'fore-paws" would not convey the use that is made of them. One poor fellow, being tired of a truant excursion in my bed-room, crept under the carpet for a quiet day's rest, and was unfortunately crushed there. A woodman, to whom we had given a general order, brought us in a large party of dormice. Next morning, three of them had escaped from their cage. One bold fellow was perched on the rod which supports the windowcurtains; the other two were cuddled together in the folds of the muslin, fast asleep, and rolled into a ball. In winter their sleep is so sound that respiration is suspended, and they are cold and death-like. Many a poor little innocent has been thrown out of the window by his capturer, under the impression that the vital spark had departed, while he was only slumbering a little more profoundly than usual, and enjoying a complete escape from the troubles of the world.-I trust this very graphic description may be the means of spreading far and wide the fame of this pretty little animal. His fine sparkling eye, and his most delectable tail, have oftentimes filled me with admiration of his beauty. To see him curled up, when asleep, would make anybody love him-at least I think so.-HEARTSEASE, Hants.
Abstinence in the Spider.-The following is copied from the Banffshire Journal.—“Mr. T. Edwards sends us the following curious particulars: Having mounted and arranged a number of birds, I put them in a case. The case had lain aside for a short time previous to the front, which is of glass, being put on; and during this time a spider, doubtless on the look-out for a canny nook, managed to take up his quarters among the birds,
and was not observed until after the front had been attached, and the whole finished. It was a little vexing to see the unwelcome intruder parading about in the box, as regardless of its contents as if they had been as many old rotten sticks. He walked over one bird, then over another, now in the bottom of the case, then again on the back, sides, &c., until he at last became stationary in one of the corners. Being an eyesore in such a place, he would have been summarily dealt with, but for the case being a close one, and all but hermetically sealed. The re-opening of it would have cost some trouble, and not a little risk. The consequence was, the little creature was permitted to remain, in the hope that want would terminate his existence. In this, however, I have been mistaken; and from being looked upon as a grievance, he ultimately became an object of some interest. Indeed he has in consequence already more than fully repaid the space which he occupies. Towards noon of the second day of his incarceration, he commenced operations in the corner already alluded to; and by breakfast time of the day following, the web was completed. The little artisan was then observed to walk slowly and very sedately, all over the newlyformed fabric; seemingly with the view of ascer taining if all was secure. This done, the aperture was next examined, and with more apparent care than was bestowed upon the rest of the structure. This wonderful mechanical contrivance-which serves at once the four-fold purpose of store-house, banqueting-hall, watch-tower, or of an asylum in times of danger, being found all right, the artificer then took up his station within it; no doubt to await the success of the net which he had spread, and whence, had fortune proved kind, he would boldly have rushed to secure the struggling prey. It happened, however, that no other insect had the misfortune to be imprisoned along with himself, and, as already hinted, none can get in. There, on his watch-tower, he still remains as motionless as a statue. And there has the patient little animal continued for the space of twelve months, having taken up his position on the 3rd of October, 1851, and kept watch and ward without ever having moved, night or day, as far as could be observed, except on three occasions. These, however, were so trifling, that they are not worth mentioning. But this is not all, as will be anticipated. The animal being still alive, it follows, as a natural consequence, that life has been sustained during all this time without the least particle of nourishment having been obtained! The little creature is still as life-like as on the first day of his imprisonment. This circumstance is not a little curious; and to the naturalist the fact must be of some value. Mr. E. adds, that the longest period during which, so far as he can learn, spiders have been ascertained to have lived without food, is ten months."-I have sent you this, my dear Sir, deeming it to be particularly interesting, and worthy of record.--HELEN W.
The Blackbird Imitative.-You are right in saying the nestling blackbird will copy anything. A friend of mine kept his blackbird, during the cold weather, in his sitting-room, where, being musical, he often amused himself in whistling the Schottische." The first part of this, "Blacky
soon learnt to perfection. When the weather became warmer, his cage was hung out in the yard: and there he frequently warbled forth a new solo. I fancy the merry tailor (whose shop is contiguous to the yard) taught him this. He also very soon learned to whistle up the dog and the pigeons to feed. He has not yet been heard to sing the note peculiar to the bird in its natural state. He was caged very young, and this is his third year. He sings very sweetly. I assure you my friend has not designedly taught him; but has been astonished at his powers. As I have myself heard the bird's performance, I can vouch for the truth of this statement. One guinea has been offered for him, but refused.-J. C.
[We observe in the Leeds Intelligencer of May 14, the following, which supports your argument:-" One of a pair of blackbirds frequenting the garden of a Mr. Drummond, Muthild, and who keeps a number of bantams, crows "night and morning. Indeed he imitates the bantam cock so well, that no person can distinguish one from the other.]
A Stroll in Epping Forest.-When old Sol arose on the morning of the 2nd of May, he found myself, my youngest son, and old "Fino," enjoying a substantial breakfast; discussing thereat the probable pleasures of a day which we had devoted, in our mind's eye, to a merry ramble. It was agreed that my companion should look after water-beetles; and that whilst he was so engaged, I should secure any other stray beetle or butterfly, &c. &c., that might cross my path"Fino" keeping order among the rabbits. Well; our various instruments de chasse being ready, off we started, about five o'clock, A.M. Our route lay direct to the "Seven Sisters ;" and thence to the Tottenham Station, which we crossed; and on to the Ferry House. It certainly was a glorious morning, although there was a cool easterly wind stirring; and we did not regret not having put in practice an idea (which we at one moment entertained) of going sans veste. Passing forwards, we reached Walthamstow; and here the beams of the sun began to be felt. This refreshed us; and thus accompanied, a most lovely walk we had. Onward still further, and we came to the Woodford Road, which runs through part of the forest. Here it was decidedly warm. Turning to our left, we followed up the road, meeting, now and then, a brood of pretty little goslings, which seemed much to interest "Fino;" but the old fellow was desperately alarmed when the fond mother flew at him, with outstretched neck and wings; hissing close to his very nose. He took all this, however, as he generally does everything else, very good-temperedly, and, after a time, made tolerable friends with Mrs. Goose and her happy family. He was not so successful, however, with an old hen, further on. She would listen to no accommodation; and, to avoid a row, "Fino " made a bolt of it. In good time we reached the turnpike, and, in a few minutes more, the "Bald Face Stag" (an old acquaintance of ours). We can indeed recollect the said "Bald Face," for some few years! Here we were ushered into a room we knew full well; and, looking at our watch, found it half past seven o'clock. We rested near a good fire, just half an hour-pour rafraichir la memoire and having requested dinner to be
found ourselves au point de depart; and being
ready at half-past two, we started again, neither knowing nor caring which way we went, so long as we kept within scent of the "Bald-Face Stag." We now struck off to the left, and "Fino " soon spied some rabbits. Literally mad with delight, nothing could stop him,-off he went like a greyhound. But it was all of no use; the little rabbits only laughed at him, and this made him still more mad. We rambled for some time, just where fancy or "Fino led-now in a swamp, or a bog; now fishing in little ponds; searching under stones, or the bark of trees, &c. &c.; till our hearts were gladdened by the sound of "Cuckoo! Cuckoo!" the first time we had heard it this year. It was just eleven o'clock Suddenly, a peculiar bark was heard from old " Fino;" and looking round, we saw his tail wagging at an unusually brisk rate. On nearing the spot, we found him contemplating a snake, some four feet long. At our approach, it slipped into its hole; and then, good bye! After this we broke into a singular field or rather opening in the forest, where an aged bird-catcher was plying his vocation. "Good morning, old gentleman!"-"Good morning, Sirs!"-and we soon entered into a familiar chat with our ornithological acquaintance. More than three-score years and ten had evidently passed over his grey head; whilst his manners and language betokened him to be a man who had seen better days. Not that he was to be pitied! By no means! Yet did he seem a man of gentler birth than bird-catchers generally are. We learned from him that his early life had been spent near Liverpool, and that he had always loved birds, and knew full well their different songs;-[Here "Fino" jumped up to me, and whispered, "He is just the man for our Editor."]* -but that he now took them, more by way of amusement and recreation than from necessity. Cruelty to Animals, and its “ Consequences.”Also, that both himself and his wife had got a The recent death of Mr. Robert Owen, the emitolerable independence. I asked him if he had nent East India Warehouseman, of New Bond heard the nightingale this season, and he told me, Street-which took place on the 9th ult., was "Yes, on the 21st April, for the first time." We now brought on, it seems, by a severe shock, occaparted from our friend, as he said he was going to sioned by cruelty to animals. The following repose for about two hours before his dinner, as he paragraph appeared in the Morning Post of was getting old, and felt rather tired. On looking May 11:-"The conviction, some short time around, we perceived a stone on which was marked since, of one of the deceased's employées, a young "Loughton Parish." We struck again through man named KING, for his CRUELTY to a CAT, is the forest, retracing our steps. Hereabouts, old said to have so worked upon Mr. Owen's natu"Fino made an awkward leap of it. He was rally sensitive disposition, as to have induced after the rabbits and springing over a hedge, with the illness which has unhappily terminated in out having sufficiently calculated his leap, or look- his death, leaving a widow and small_family." ing before he leaped. He leaped, and fell, nose-Do, Mr. Editor, print this in OUR JOURNAL. foremost, into a soft bog. He was very wroth, but a pond being near at hand, he soon washed his proboscis, and forgot all about it. At length we
* Hark 'e, "Fino!" you read OUR JOURNAL to very little purpose, if you imagine we could like a man who traps birds, be he young or be he old. The practice of robbing birds of their liberty, under any circumstances, whether for profit or amusement, is brutal,-perfectly indefensible. The accounts that have reached us this very month of the barbarous atrocities perpetrated by these vilest of vagabonds, in all parts of the country, are heart-rending. The angelic voice of the nightingale has pleaded for him in vain. He has sung his own death-song; whilst parents out of number have been robbed of their feathered offspring without mercy. So, "Fino," shut up!-ED. K. J.
If that unfeeling wretch, KING, has the smallest
[We would not add to the sting of torment that must, we imagine, haunt the conscience even of this very wicked man. He has indeed a fearfully-heavy load of guilt to answer for!]
Cure for the Sting of a Bee.-In most cases, the person stung can instantaneously obtain relief by pressing on the point stung with the tube of a key. This will extract the sting and relieve the pain; and the application of aqua ammonia (common spirits of hartshorn) will immediately remove it. The poison being of