82 



KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 



Oh, how I should have loved that dog, my 

 dear Sir ! What man would have done as 

 he did ? 



But now for the particulars of the stork : — 



On the roof of the cathedral at Stras- 

 bourg, there had been placed a wheel, laid 

 crosswise as an inducement to storks to 

 build their nests there. This is a custom 

 throughout Alsace ; it being a popular opinion 

 in that part of the country that these birds 

 are harbingers of good-luck. 



The storks had not failed to come ; and, 

 from the windows of our inn, we saw the 

 sombre profile of a parent bird standing out 

 in strong relief against the evening sky, then 

 reddened by the setting sun. A brood of 

 young storks was grouped around the parent, 

 which stood upright upon its great claws. 

 Not one in the nest slept. It was evident that 

 they awaited an absent one — some straggler 

 perhaps ; and, from time to time, we heard 

 their wild and disagreeable cry. 



At length we perceived, on the verge of 

 the horizon, a stork with outspread wings. 

 He was cleaving the air with arrowy swift- 

 ness, and closely pursued by a bird of prey, 

 of prodigious size, — probably a vulture from 

 the neighboring mountains. The stork was 

 frightened —wounded, perhaps — and the cries 

 of those in the nest responded to the 

 parent's wail. We saw the poor, frightened 

 bird arrive straight over its nest, and fall 

 there ; exhausted either by fatigue or pain. 

 The other stork then took her companion's 

 place, and sprang towards the enemy. A 

 fierce combat ensued. The two champions 

 rushed upon one another, uttering terrific 

 cries. 



But the glorious instinct of paternity dis- 

 played itself with* incredible strength and 

 energy in the stork. Whilst defending her- 

 self or attacking her gigantic adversary, she 

 never, for an instant, lost sight of her little 

 ones that lay trembling and terrified in the 

 nest beneath ; but tried continually to cover 

 them with her wings. At length, too weak 

 to sustain the unequal combat, by a desperate 

 effort she approached her branch-formed 

 nest, where lay her expiring mate and the 

 young ones, — yet unable to take wing. She 

 caught the nest in her bill, shook it forcibly ; 

 and, turning it over, dashed from the top of 

 the tower the objects of her affection, rather 

 than see them fall a prey to their enemy. 

 Then, devoting herself singly, — a resigned 

 victim, she fell upon the wheel ; where, with 

 a blow of his beak, the vulture terminated 

 her existence." 



What now shall we say about instinct and 

 reason ? How shall we define, — how divide 

 them? 



I agree with you, my dear sir, that Nature 

 is a wonderful mother, — ever watchful, ever 



kind ; and at all times ready to lend her 

 aid according to the greatness of the 



occasion. 



FORESTIERA. 



[We are indeed rejoiced once again to 

 behold the handwriting of our much-esteemed 

 correspondent, FoRESTiERA. That a star had 

 gone from the circle, was undeniably felt by 

 us and by our readers. Its return will be 

 joyfully heralded. May it never " wander " 

 again ! We cannot afford to lose even the 

 shadow of one of our precious jewels.] 



LOVELY SPRING ! WE WAIT FOR THEE. 



BY HELEN HETHERINGTON. 



Lovely Spring, — charming Spring ! — we are 



waiting for thee, 

 The leaves are all gone from the bright holly -tree ; 

 And a sigh has escaped from our hearts even now, 

 As we whisper'd farewell to the misseltoe bough. 

 But away with all sorrow; from care we'll be free, 

 And realise pleasure whilst waiting for thee ! 



Old Winter, we learn, is preparing to go, — 

 To lay by his frost-robe and mantle of snow; 

 And the birds, — oh, how sweetly they sung with 



delight, 

 As they saw the gay heralds approaching in sight ! 

 They kiss'd the bright buds, whilst they hopp'd 



on each tree, 

 And breathed vows of love. — They are waiting for 



thee! 



The daisy has open'd its pretty bright eye, 

 And gracefully bends as the breeze passes by ; 

 And the dormouse creeps forth from its snug little 



bed, 

 For the pale sun is peeping out over its head ; 

 But it looks all around, as if wishing to see 

 Some kind smiling face. — It is waiting for thee ! 



How we long for a walk through the fields to the 



mill, 

 Or to Old Martha's cot at the foot of the hill ! 

 But a cold wind is whistling over the plain, 

 And the ducks with much pleasure anticipate 



rain; 

 There are brighter days coming, with flower and 



bee ; 

 Oh, haste, lovely Spring, — they are waiting for 



thee! 



We wait for thy voice to resound through the 



vale, — 

 Thy light step to lead us through forest and dale ; 

 Thy smile to enliven the bower and brake, 

 Or to join the gay breezes that dance on the lake ; 

 The light bark is moor'd, but she longs to be free, 



Oh, COME, LOVELY SPRING, — WE ARE WAITING FOR 

 THEE ! 



PURITY OF HEART. 



The man, woman, or child, who can wander 

 abroad at this season and not feel impressed with 

 a love for God, and the work of His hands, — is an 

 object for pity. Let them *' go to Ant." 



