402 



JOURNAL OF EOBTIOULTORE AND COTTAGE GARDENER. 



[ December 24, 1868. 



then all darkness, for the brief bright December day is over. 

 My book (the " Essays of Elia "), I can see to read no longer ; 

 the talk of my travelling companions has ceased ; the occasional 

 chats are done, all liveliness is gone, and we are wearied and 

 silen tin the darkness. In that darkness, growing each minute 

 denser, I enter Scotland, and the darkness is suitable — 

 *' For dark, and true, oud tender is the North." 



Once more in Scotland after a seventeen-jears absence ! Yes, 

 I am again in Scotland ; for on asking a porter for a fresh hot- 

 water tin I get an answer in the language of BurnB, " Anither 

 mon will bring the hot waater." 



It is pleasant ou revisiting a formerly well-knowri country 

 not to revisit the same part of it, for then it is a revisit without 

 one painful drawback — I mean missing here and there a face, 

 or asking for those who cannot reply, or seeing the grey hair 

 where the brown was, or having to note the sunken cheek 

 where, when last we saw it, stood youth, and perhaps beauty, 

 in its rosy plumjiuess. Such reminiscences are painful, but 

 happily I have none of these. 



Surely tho evening hours are very long hours. How very 

 long the last two of a twelve-hours journey seem ! How they, 

 like " the tedious Alexandrine, drag their slow length along !" 

 GlaFgow — no, only Carstaira. But now Glasgow — no, only 

 Motherwell ; then Coatbridge, with its furnaces all a-blaze. 

 But the train slackens at last, and the oft-snipped ticket is 

 broken in half, aud only the return bit ia left me. And how 

 am I to know the bodily presence of my host that is to be — 

 Mr. Huie of Pouter celebrity, known to me by several kindly 

 letters — how am I to know him, and how is he to know " Wilt- 

 EHiEE Hectok?" Well, as usual, I carry the old recognising 

 flag in my hand — a copy of " our Journal," and by it 1 am at 

 once known. And well it was that I bore that flag, for I am 

 not personally, as was expected, " a white-haired old gentleman 

 with a ruddy face and a pair of twinkling blue eyes." How 

 seldom expectations are realised ! how very disappointing they 

 are ! I am only a — well, never mind my personal appearance. 

 One thing I must say, that although the fair image of the white 

 hair, and ruddy face, aud blue eyes is at once dashed to the 

 ground, yet I am no loser, for I get the hand-pressure of old 

 friends from Mr. Huie, and Mr. Ure, and the ring of fanciers 

 who kindly meet me — me a stranger, only known by some 

 vagrant trifles, kindly written, I hope, in " our Journal." 

 N.B. — I had not to put up my umbrella, so it does not aluays 

 rain in Glasgow. 



A drive of two miles or so through the long lines of gaslamps, 

 and I reach Mr. Huie's villa. A pleasant villa 1 soon found it 

 to be, where I get a warm-hearted welcome. A Scotchman 

 does not let his shake of the hand dwindle down to a two- 

 fingered affair, neither does a Scotchwoman give four cold, 

 straight fingers that chill tho very life-blood. At once I am at 

 home. I fear, ye great ones of the earth, ye kings and queens, 

 ye cannot make your friends so at home. I hope you can, for 

 their sakes and for yours. The needed stipper is all ready, 

 and then soon followed the needed bed. 



Next morning, December 9th — N.B., no umbrella wanted ; 

 how could that old bachelor friend alarm me so much, and so 

 falsely too? Well, next morning, on looking garden-wise, I 

 Eee extending from either side of the house long greenhouse- 

 looking buildings wired in the front. These are the pigeonries, 

 so placed that from the bow windows you command a good 

 view of the birds. The enormous size of the Pouters strikes 

 me at once, then the deep richness of the Kedi- and Yellows. 

 A closer view after breakfast tells me of peerl^sa Fantaile, 

 peerless in carriage and motion ; good Almonds, Jacobins, See. 



But we are off from Itowan Cottage to Glasgow. ' Upon this, 

 the commercial capital of Scotland and the largest city of the 

 empire next to London, you see plainly inscribed the wealth 

 and intelligence of its inhabitants. Width of streets, length 

 of streets, all modern, save here aud there a crow-stepped gable 

 or two ; but the new quite overpowers the old. The streets 

 are in width what Sir Christopher Wren wished, but wished in 

 vain, to make the streets of London. I must single out a few 

 of the Glasgow streets : Argyll Street, the city's great backbone ; 

 lengthy Eglintoun Street ; aud Buchanan Street, the Regent 

 Street of Glasgow. Straight we go to the Exchange, where 

 business faces aro around me, business telegrams before me — 

 earth's occupations, aud earth's only. By a strange yet fitting 

 contrast we go next to the old cathedral, which looked down 

 on Glasgow as a mere little town, and now looks down on its 

 vastness. This is the only cathedral, save that of lurkwall in 

 the Orkneys, which was saved from the destroying hands of an 

 unreasoning populace. Glasgow Cathedral is a maesive pile 



of the heavy earlier, and not late and lighter Gothic. It in- 

 spires awe, it forces the mind into respect. Of recent years it 

 has been restored, but indeed as to the fabric it is so strong it 

 needed little repair. But dirt and rubbish are gone, and every 

 observable window in all partp, crypt as well, is of stained 

 glass. In massiveness, as opposed to lightness, it is the very 

 opposite to Salisbury Cathedral. On this dark but dry De- 

 cember day, a "dim religious light" did indeed pervade its 

 interior. The painted windows have, many of them, an unusual 

 but desirable practical bearing. Thus, a sick-bed scene with a 

 motto text, instructive to the looker and reader. Then the 

 faces and figures are natural and human, not medi.-eval angular 

 distortions. The one thought that overcomes all is massiveness 

 — how solidly built it is ! 



" They dretinit not or a perisliable h'om^ |^ 

 Who thug could build," ; "■" 



Down to the crypt — clean, yet how cold !^I stand by Si," 

 Mungo'a Well, the Saint to whom the building was dedicated- 

 I am placed by the pillar where Hob Koy gave the warning to 

 Frank Osbaldistone. How Scott (Oh ! triumph of genius !) 

 has made us talk of the scenes in his fictions as if they were 

 very facts. I linger as long as I dare in this wonderfully built 

 crypt. A lancet window startles me. It has a picture of the 

 Baptist — a wild, weiru-looking, camel-hair-oovercd tigure in the 

 attitude of preaching, with the text " Repent ye," &e., beneath 

 — a strange haunting figure. I am bidden to stoop and read a 

 small brass. It briefly tells me that Edward Irving is there 

 buried. How suitable a resting-place for that fiery clay ! How 

 suitable a window above bis grave ! 



Further wanderings about Glasgow fill up the day. I mark 

 the hill ou which stood Queen Mary and saw the fatal defeat 

 of her troops at Langside ; then ou to the Western Park — what 

 a noble view from its noble mansions I Then I walk by the 

 Kelvin (what a place for summer- evening wandering !), then to 

 the busy Docks, and view the once rural Clyde, now the Clyde 

 vessel-laden. On still sight-seeing, passing tempting Glasgow 

 shops. But daylight fails, and I rest, nothing loth, at the 

 llfinover Hotel, for there I am to be present at the annua! 

 dinner of the North Eritith Columbarian Society, N.B. — No 

 umbrella used the whole day.-^WiLTSHiEE 'Bzcios."-''^'^'^'' '•'^ 

 ^T ' .Jno.niPC'j 



■^;^^:„ TUMBLER PIGEONS. ' ■^•1 Z^)^: 



.With all deference to the opinions expressed by " WitTSsuBK 

 Recioe " respecting the homing faculties cf Tumbler PigconF, 

 I beg to differ from him. I could mention several instances in 

 which they have come home short distances. In the early 

 part of last year I sold some Tumbler Pigeons to a gentleman 

 living at Horsham : amongst them was a White Roller cook, 

 and this bird had no sooner regained bis liberty than he 

 returned home, a distance of about eighteen miles; He was- 

 quite pure-bred, and had never been traiued.trtlis Silutf ba'Ats^u 



i 'Z% ,,w1hE'Mndei;land bird' sijmv. 



SusDEBLASD has at last spoken, and her Committee has 

 f ent out its schedule of prizes for the next great Ornithological 

 Exhibition, and as a whole the schedule is a good one, but I 

 think a few alterations might have been made with advantage. 

 There is no class either for London Fancies or Crested Belgians. 

 Now, the former every one admits to be a pure breed, whatever 

 may be said about the latter, aud I do think that it ought to 

 have had a class before that mongrel the Scotch Don, which iB 

 honoured with four. The schedule stands alone in the way ia 

 which the Mules are classed. Here they are divided in a man- 

 ner they deserve to be, which shows both the common sense 

 and discernment of the Committee in general, and of Mr. 

 Blakston in particular. 



Goldfinch and Linnet Mules, especially the fornaer, are birds 

 which every fancier likes, and which every fancier knows are 

 more dilficult to breed good than any other cage bird, aud when 

 good are most valuable, and Sunderland was the first place, 

 indeed, is the only place, where their merits were acknowledged 

 aud prizes given to them adequate to their pretensions. I 

 hoped to have been able to show the world at Sunderland a 

 couple of pcrhcthi char Linnet Mules (the first, I believe, ever 

 exhibited), but, unfortunately, they would not moult, and died. 



I beg, in conclusion, to rtmind old exhibitors, r.nd to fell all 

 Canary fanciers who have never been to Sunderland, that the 

 way in which exhibitors are treated, the way in which the 

 specimens are looked after, and the kind and courteous manner 

 in which all the Committee and Mr. Blakston behave to their 



