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KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 



Hie 18th, they will remember that the former 

 broke sweetly upon the senses, as " a sunny 

 day in spring." The moon and the sun 

 lovingly faced each other, — the former being 

 reluctant to bid us adieu at the usual hour 

 of parting. She went down with such a 

 bright, happy face ! The birds, too, felt the 

 prevailing influence ; and they instinctively 

 fr itemised. The day was one of clear sun- 

 shine, — the feathered tribes tuning up, 

 and prepa ing their voices in honor of the 

 occasion. On the 18th they were equally 

 lively; and ever since, the progress of our 

 little vocalists in the garden has been mar- 

 vellous. Many of them are mated, an$ 

 busily preparing for an active scene in 

 domestic life. What a to-do we shall soon 

 have with papas, mammas, and their liitle 

 families ! Well ; we have laid in an enormous 

 jar of mealworms for them, and our window 

 is their rendezvous. They love us, and we 

 love them. 



But we have headed this Paper, — Feb- 

 ruary ! To apologise for our digression 

 would occupy even more space ; so let us 

 progress. Yes, February is here. And 

 what thoughts does it not bring with it? 

 Our dear mother, — Nature, has been asleep. 

 But how long has she slept ? Has she in 

 very deed been asleep at all f We question 

 it much. Hers have been u gentle slumbers." 

 Ever dreaming of the sons and daughters of 

 men — her heart's delight — her visions have 

 kept her watchful — wakeful. She has fancied 

 we could not go on happily without her. She 

 has stretched herself out — rubbed her eyes — 

 peeped from her casement — given some secret 

 instructions to her handmaids — and dozed 

 again. 



Yes, — slowly, slowly, slowly 

 Comes the Spring, 

 Like a maiden holy ; 

 Her blue eyes hid in a wimple of gray, 

 But a hopeful smile on her face alway. 

 Through the rich brown earth bursts the pale green 



shoot 

 From the milk-white threads of the sensitive root, 



Like a joy that is fragile and fleeting ; 

 And the little house wren, in his plain drab coat, 

 Holds forth, in a plaintive, querulous note, 



Like a Quaker at yearly meeting. 



Whilst we now write, ample evidence lies 

 before us that her ladyship's instructions 

 have been strictly carried out. Every hour 

 unfolds some little secret surprise of hers; 

 telling us of the bounties of her lavish hand. 

 We look. We admire. We praise. We 

 worship. Buds and blossoms — how we 

 love ye ! . 



Those who have gardens — we pity all those 

 who have not — need no invitation of ours 

 to caT them abroad at this season. There 

 are so many lovely little strangers continually 

 peeping up on every side — so many modest 



tiny heads struggling into life, that our flower- 

 borders have become an irresistible attrac- 

 tion. The same in the fields, under sheltered 

 hedges ; and in those many delightful lanes 

 through which our feet so love to wander. 

 Ere another month shall have passed, our 

 good mother will have " slept her sleep " 

 She will open her eyes, look around her, wake 

 up like a giant refreshed, and go forth in her 

 great strength — to perfect in their season 

 what she has already been so beneficently 

 preparing. We will follow in her footsteps, 

 and worship at her shrine. 



The days are now lengthening " nicely." 

 The mornings break fresh upon the spirits. 

 Our dear, glorious, much-loved Sun, rises 

 upon us with a face of love that fairly binds 

 us to him for ever. Young as he is, even 

 now he warms our heart, and tills it with 

 rejoicing. All nature greets him, — the God 

 of day ! And how our pets, the birds, look 

 out for him at early morn ! What floods of 

 song — even now, do the robin, thrush, and 

 little wren pour forth ! The blackbird, too, 

 is tuning up ; and the hedge-sparrow, chaf- 

 finch, and tit-mice are rehearsing sweetly. 

 Nor does the sky-lark come behind in his 

 songs of praise. Oh— no ! He, — noble 

 herald of the sky — is already up, high on 

 the wing, carolling it bravely ; and making 

 Heaven's gate resound with his morning 

 anthem. But words fail us. Rise betimes 

 good folk ; and in the clear, clasping, morn- 

 ing air, attend the " Early Matins " of the 

 woods. Then bow your knee ; and reverently 

 worship. " Let every thing that hath 

 breath praise the Lord ! " Amen ! 



But stay ! Our boys and girls ; we had 

 well nigh forgotten them. How happy they 

 all have been during the past month ; sight- 

 seeing, visiting, dancing, playing, romping, 

 and rejoicing ! It has been a fine season for 

 them, both in and out of doors. Merry- 

 making at home, parties abroad ; sliding, 

 skating, snow-balling — there has been un- 

 heard-of fun. Cakes, wine, and " all the 

 delicacies of the season," have (wherever we 

 have been) appeared — and efts-appeared like 

 magic, — Oliver Twist's cry for " more ! " 

 being, as usual, in the ascendant. We have 

 often wondered if the stomachs of children — ■ 

 school-boys in particular — were fashioned 

 like those of adults. It may be so ; but we 

 are frequently inclined to doubt it. Theirs 

 is such an endless swallow ! 



Well, our boys and girls have had " their 

 fill" of holiday delights. The time is at 

 hand when they must bid a short adieu to 

 the glories of pantomime and fairy-land. 

 " Black Monday" is in the near distance, 

 and the wand of the enchanter must be laid 

 aside for propria quae maribus. Let us hope 

 that one and all will cheerfully return to 

 their studies, and vie energetically with 



