KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 



deceitful, well content am T to be deceived 

 ill things relating to this mundane sphere ; 

 and let my motto be 



" Hope on, Hope ever !" 



H. H. Hetherington, 



AMUSEMENTS IN SCANDINAVIA. 



We observe in an interesting work, entitled 

 Sixteen Months in the Danish Isles, that the 

 inhabitants of Scandinavia have much delight 

 in practising our game of La Grace. The 

 author describes it so pleasantly, that we 

 think our readers can hardly fail to be 

 gratified with the particulars as he has jotted 

 them down. This game used to be very 

 popular with us ; and we have often felt de- 

 lighted to see our young ladies enter into it 

 with spirit. It was conducive to health. 

 Alas! it has been put down by " Fashion." 

 Young people of the present day are forbidden 

 to be "natural." Health is quite a secondary 

 consideration. 



I will here (says the author) describe this game, 

 called in Scandinavia," the Ring." We formed a 

 wide circle of young folks on the lawn, each indi- 

 vidual holding in his hand a wand. A few light 

 wooden rings, in circumference as large as a soup- 

 plate, were produced. These were to he thrown 

 from one person to the other by means of the 

 wands. If the thrower did his or her business 

 awkwardly the receiver might have to run a long 

 way to catch the ring, and miss it after all, and 

 then have to run back to his former position to 

 pitch it in turn to the next. Much agility and 

 adroitness were called for, involving a good deal 

 of exercise. It was particularly necessary to turn 

 about with no loss of time, after flinging one's 

 ring to the next in the circle, in order to he ready 

 to receive that which might otherwise be whizzing 

 through the air from one's opponent on the other 

 side. This was the most difficult rule to observe ; 

 inasmuch as it was very tempting, on casting the 

 ring aloft, to watch how it came down and whether 

 it was caught; but if on any occasion you were 

 unlucky enough to stand gazing after it, you were 

 sure to feel a ring from the opposite quarter come 

 dangling about your head or shoulders. People 

 are always on the outlook to take their neighbor 

 at unawares, just as he is busy^casting to his 

 neighbor. 



As there are no forfeits or punishments con- 

 nected with the game, it is a very agreeable one 

 where there is sufficient scope, producing an 

 equally powerful but more healthful glow on the 

 cheeks of youth and beauty than the exercise of a 

 heated ball-room. The accompaniments are also 

 more beautiful than the decorations of any dancing, 

 saloon, — the grass as a carpet ; the beds of real 

 flowers as its pattern ; the blue Heaven as a ceiling, 

 or (if it be clouded) with clouds gilded by the 

 upward rays of the setting sun ; the atmosphere in 

 the purity, and mildness, and balminess of a sum- 

 mer evening, instead of the usual heated air ; and 

 the heavy foliage of the neighboring forests as 

 natural walls, seemingly denser than walls of stone 

 and lime. 



Although myself busy with the game, and more 

 taken up than the others because I was new to it, 

 and had to be taught, 1 still had time enough to 

 admire the effect of it upon my fellow-players, par- 

 ticularly on the fair ones of the party, who entered 

 into the thing with the completest surrender of all 

 stiffnesF,. resembling children for the time being ; 

 and young ladies are in general fearful of looking 

 like children, yet it becomes them well — as what 

 doth not become them ? There is beauty even in 

 wind-blown locks, and tangled curls, and shoes 

 that have gone down in the heel, — when one has 

 been witness to the merry process by which these 

 disorders have been brought about. 



At the crystal doors of the " garden room " lay 

 two dogs, which snapped at the flies; now and 

 then they got up and gambolled about the lawn, 

 as it were in imitation of their superiors. On a 

 seat by the window sat some older ladies working 

 and chatting, as grave as if no diversions were 

 going on before their eyes. Inside were a few 

 more ; the lady of the house taking an occasional 

 glance through the window to see how we got on ; 

 looking not exactly happy when any of our 

 thoughtless troop ran their feet upon one of the 

 flower-beds, which happened now and then. 

 Flowers were cultivated here to great perfection. 



POOR VERONIQUE! 



BY HELEN HETHERINGTON. 



She spoke not ; but her mournful eye 



Fell sadly on his vacant chair; 

 And though she tried to check the sigh, 



Her looks betray'd her wild despair. 

 Where could she hope or comfort seek, 

 But in his breast ? poor Veronique ! 



She wander'd to a little spot 



Where they had pass'd some happy hours ; 

 Paused o'er the sweet " forget me not," 



And sought with tears his favorite flowers. 

 Bright gems ! but now, alas, too weak 

 To cheer her heart, — poor Veronique ! 



She heeded not the twice-told tale 

 That men are faithless, insincere. 



She thought his promise could not fail, 

 His parting words she seemed to hear, 



When tears stood trembling on her cheek, — 



" I'll ne'er forget thee, Veronique ! " 



Their fav'rite walks again she traced ; 



But when the songs he loved were sung, 

 O'er her pale cheek the warm tears chased, 



And bitter sighs her bosom wrung. 

 That plaintive look, too, seemed to speak 

 Of blighted hope, — poor Veronique ! 



Weep on ; for thou canst ne'er forget 



The agony those tears express ; 

 A canker in the bud has set, 



And fills thy heart with bitterness. 

 That gentle heart, so calm, so meek, 

 Is almost broken, — Veronique ! 



Weep on, poor girl ; thy tears percbance 

 May yield thy bosom some relief. 



Before thee lies a wide expanse 

 Of sorrow, bitterness, and grief. 



The world is desolate and bleak, — 



But Heaven is kind ! poor Veronique ! 



