KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 



237 



AUTO-BIOGRAPHY OF A DOG— No. XXIV. 



WRITTEN BY HIMSELF. 



(Continued from Page LliJ 



This has been a most lovely month, and an 

 old dog like myself feels sensibly its genial in- 

 fluence. Pu'ghtglad am I to bid adieu to cold — I 

 cannot say cheerless — winter: for where my old, 

 dear old master is, it must ever be cheerful; more 

 particularly so should the severity of the winter 

 threaten to press his little dependant favorites 

 sorely. Then the old boy redoubles his kind care 

 of all. But Spring is coming. Young shoots are 

 pushing forth. Spring flowers are again uphold- 

 ing their lovely heads. Insects of various sorts 

 are once more disporting their beautiful little 

 bodies. Old black spiders creep out of their 

 hiding places, as if to reconnoitre their where- 

 abouts; the insect world is wonderfully alive and 

 moving ; and I hope soon the water of the Lee 

 will be warm enough to allow me to enjoy a good 

 swim. This will be quite invigorating, and then 

 I shall be quite ready for May 1st. [Mais taisez 

 vous, Fixo !] I heard all you and Bombyx said the 

 other evening, although you fancied I was fast 

 asleep ! 



For my own dear Helvetia, too, this is the 

 month for cracking Easter eggs, and making 

 what we call " Poissons d' Avril," but what you call 

 "April Fools." It is very amusing, my dear friend, 

 to stroll the market-place (la Veille de PdquesJ and 

 see the old "Savoyard " market women, with their 

 large oval corbeilles of various-colored eggs, — 

 blue, green, yellow, crimson, violet, &c, "settle- 

 ment demi-batz la piece." They soon disappear. 

 Every body who has (jot a halfbatz in his pocket 

 must exchange it for an egg. You continually 

 see two jolly pay sans — with a five-batz piece — go 

 off with ten eggs. One holds the narrowest end 

 of his, upwards. Crack goes the other, with the 

 narrowest point of his egg. Change sides : 

 crack again ! " C'est a moi " " Parbleu oui !" 



Generally speaking, these eggs are boiled quite 

 hard before they are stained; but sometimes, in 

 the hurry of getting ready, this very necessary 

 precaution is not sufficiently attended to; and 

 then, only fancy offering to try your chance with 

 some fair friend, who holds the egg in her little 

 white hand ! The unfortunate crack would send 

 the contents of the egg-shell not only over her 

 hand, but probably her face and dress would get a 

 benefit unlooked for. It is anything but amusing ; 

 but I have often known it to occur. I think I can 

 see you, my dear friend, challenging either of your 

 amiable correspondents, "Puss "or " Forestiera," 

 with one of these unlucky eggs ! I should rather 

 you than I. 



A much better and safer style of egg for our 

 beloved ladies, never fails to be seen in the win- 

 dows of the best confectioners. It is composed of 

 chocolate, ornamented in the most elegant manner. 

 Some are really most elaborately finished, and if 

 you or any of your friends wish to know where to 

 get them, go to Madame Blanchet, Rue de Bourg, 

 Lausanne, with my love ; then come and tell me 

 if old Fino is a dog destitute of good taste. 



This custom, however, of having colored eggs at 

 Easter, is originally German; and a very pretty 

 custom it is. I know I used to enjoy going 

 among the old market girls on Easter Eve. I re- 



member one fat, jovial, old Savoyard in particular. 

 Such a good-tempered old girl with " ma bella 

 Filletta!" What a quantity of eggs old Bombyx 

 used to bring home ! Oh! if you could have seen 

 how pretty the breakfast-table looked on Easter 

 morning ! But I must now have a glance at the 

 Poissons d'Avril. Bombyx really used to enjoy 

 this kind of fun. He was quite like a boy. I 

 never laughed more in my life (although I was 

 myself a '* Poisson ") than at a thorough good one 

 of my old master. One first day of April, some 

 few years ago, it happened to be a bitter cold 

 Saturday morning; and there was one of those 

 cutting bizes — peculiar, occasionally, at this season 

 of the year, to my native town. I fancy I feel it 

 now. It was indeed sharp : a bize noire — unmis- 

 takeably so. Now, Jean w r as as fond of going to 

 market with Bombyx as Bombyx was of seeing 

 Jean ; and it so happened that Jean came up that 

 very morning for the purpose of going to market. 



A thought came across old Bombyx as he 

 spied Jean, and saw by his countenance that he 

 was not the least up to the 1st of April. So after 

 Jean had had his tasse de cafe, Bombyx came up 

 to him with a nice clean cloth (it was about 

 seven o'clock in the morning). 



" Bon jour, frere Jean ! il y aura joli marchi, 

 avjourdhui.'" 



" Je crois bien" said Jean. " J'ai dejd arrete 

 deux petites salades pour Monsieur.'''' 



"Bravo, Jean! quelle heure avons nous? 

 sept heures et demi, pas encore — nan, sept heures 

 a peu pres." 



" C'est bon. Nous avons tout le terns. Jean, 

 faites moi le plaisir de prendre la nouvelle 

 Hodda et cVcdler vit chez Monsieur P — t. II 

 est arrive Jeudi de Frybourg par Yevay, et il a 

 crhcte' deux magniyiques fromages ; un pour lui 

 e, et un pour nous. Je lui ai page' cinq 

 batz et un hreutzer la livre. Croyez vous que 

 c'est cher ?" 



After a few minutes' thought, Jean replied, — 

 " CertainemenU ilestbien boa marche. Badoux en 

 ferait payer 7 batz; et cela pour de fromage 

 inferieur. Monsieur a pris tout le fromage."'' 



" Si — ils pescnt 70 livres 68 Jean.'" 



" Bon ! je men vais denote et je serai de 

 retour pour aecompagner Monsieur au marche'. 

 Allons, Carlo ! Allons, Fino ! allons chercher 

 la fromaza; — et je pense que vous en gouterez 

 un petit more au ce soir /" 



11 Ah qui si,'' said Bombyx, smiling, but not 

 knowing which way to look for fear of an explo- 

 sion ; and right glad he was to see Jean, and my 

 brother, and myself depart. Off we went, Jean 

 walking at his usual deliberate pace, till we 

 turned round the corner of the theatre, and 

 arrived at the residence of our friend P — t, who 

 occupied the ground floor of a large house, well 

 known by the name of Maison Merrier (it being 

 the property of a very wealthy tanner of that 

 name). 



When Jean arrived, M. P — t was still in bed, 

 and his better half had only just crawled out. The 

 servant opened the door, and Jean inquired for 

 the cheese. Now it was quite true that M. P — t 

 had just returned from Frybourg; but beyond 

 that, it was a Poisson. The servant went to her 

 mistress; and she reported to M. P — t. After a 

 while, she returned; declaring that M. P — t 



