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KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 



us add to yours, another pretty little fact about a 

 robin. Our pair of birds (renowned throughout 

 every volume of Our Journal) have recently 

 built themselves a nest in one corner of a room in 

 our dwelling-house. In that room, two large 

 piles of the first and second parts of Our Journal 

 have been placed (on a high shelf) not far below 

 the ceiling. There are at least 100 in each 

 parcel. On the very summit of these, my little 

 lord and his little lady have pitched their tent. 

 Here is love shown for Our Journal ! What 

 discernment ! Well ; the cradle provided, and the 

 eggs laid, in due time five young ones appeared. 

 Happy parents/were those dear idolised birds ! (We 

 are, one and all, united; master, mistress, maid, 

 and birds. Every member of the family are 

 proud of these winged favorites.) Now listen, 

 Honeysuckle ; and let thy tender heart weep, and 

 bleed. Coming down early on the morning of 

 May 19th, and going, as was our habit, to see how 

 our little callow friends fared, — behold, on the 

 floor, lay scattered heaps of leaves. A little 

 further, and the mangled body of an innocent 

 nestling met our eye. Another, — and another, 

 and — another! We groaned; so too, did these 

 erewhile happy parents ! Alas, we hear their 

 cries now ! But, gently good pen. A curtain 

 must be drawn over the rest. Somebody's cat, — 

 a horrid brute of a cat,— had watched those pretty 

 creatures carrying in food (early) to their children. 

 She had secreted herself; sprung from the floor 

 to the shelf ; walked stealthily (these crafty, soft- 

 going quadrupeds have no virtues) ; and, no 

 doubt, rifled that nest, — turning it over after- 

 wards by way of insult. She had not even con- 

 cealed her fault, by eating up her prey. No. 

 She had gnawed them in halves, and left them ; 

 retreating (assassin-like) as she had entered. Now, 

 harkee, dear Honeysuckle. Within twenty hours, 

 that cat — " a noble animal" — lay extended at 

 full length (say two feet) upon the scene of her 

 late exploit. She moved not; neither was life 

 found in her. Two catastrophes had occurred in 

 the short space of a single day. Our little birds 

 know what has been done, — and they rejoice in 

 having beheld their enemy dead. War has now 

 been declared against the whole race of 

 cats; so let our troublesome neighbors — look 

 out!] 



The Holy Estate of Matrimony. — If you seek 

 for pleasure, marry. If you prize rosy health, 

 marry. A good wife is Heaven's last best gift to 

 man — his angel and minister of graces innume- 

 rable — his gem of many virtues — his casket of 

 jewels. Her voice is sweet music — her smiles his 

 brightest day — her kiss, the guardian of his 

 innocence — her arms, the pale of his safety, the 

 balm of his health, the balsam of his life. Her 

 industry, his surest wealth — her economy, his 

 safest steward — her lips his faithful councillors — 

 her bosom, the softest pillow of his cares. Lastly, 

 her prayers are the ablest advocates of Heaven's 

 blessings on his head. — Jeremy Taylor. 



[Here is a picture of domestic felicity that it 

 does ono's heart good to read. Kealise it, all ye 

 who can !] 



The World Good as Ever. — How often do we 

 hear people condemning this as being a " wicked 



world !" Fearful ignorance and blindness ! Why 

 what has the world done amiss ? Better would it 

 be, if people would cast the blame on themselves 

 as the direct sources whence these evils arise. 

 The world itself is as fresh and beautiful as when 

 its Maker first smiled upon the completion of His 

 glorious handiwork. Why then should we seek 

 to degrade this lovely creation, by committing and 

 not confessing our own wicked acts ? We hear of 

 "reforms" of various kinds from those who — if 

 they were as willing to act as they are to talk — 

 would in the end derive as much benefit them- 

 selves as they wish to bestow on others. Let 

 them " look at home." It is lamentable to see 

 men, who are naturally endowed with such high 

 reasoning powers, and who are living in an age, 

 too, which in some things may almost be con- 

 sidered to have bid farewell to improvement, 

 continue in a state of partial ignorance with 

 regard to themselves — " looking down" upon those 

 who have not been so fortunate as they in the 

 possession of this world's goods ! The " rich and 

 proud " are too frequently found together. Why 

 should one man, because he has risen to some de- 

 gree of eminence and stands high in the world's 

 reputation, look down upon another who may not 

 have been equally blessed with the health, talent, 

 and opportunities of his more fortunate neighbor ? 

 Is it by any merit of his that he has done so ? It 

 may be the case so far as industry and perseverance 

 are concerned, — and for this he may be worthily 

 commended ; but if he had not been favored with 

 those gifts which are alone in the power of a 

 higher Being to bestow,where would he have been 

 then ? Some men there are, who think they have 

 themselves only to thank for the temporary 

 blessings they enjoy ; and for the high position 

 they may have attained. They never bestow one 

 thought or feeling beyond the present ; showing 

 plainly indeed that " pride is the clearest proof of 

 ignorance," and is seldom cured, unless it be by 

 a reverse of circumstances. But let the storms of 

 adversity come, and beat round the fancied shelter 

 which the proud man has built ; then will he 

 find out the gross mistake which his sordid 

 imagination has led him to indulge in, whilst 

 thinking himself secure in his own resources alone. 

 It is painful to witness the apathy and want of 

 animation into which some men relapse. They 

 can talk fast enough of faults which they see in 

 others ; remaining blind to their own. And even 

 when a gleam of light may flash upon them, and 

 remind them of duties to be performed, they shut 

 their eyes to the fact ; sinking into that dreamy 

 condition from which there is no rousing them. — 

 Viletta, Devon. 



Wonders of the Post Office. — According to the 

 parliamentary returns, there are in the United 

 Kingdom, 986 post-offices, and 6.612 receiving- 

 houses for letters ; 1,810 of these post-offices and 

 receiving-houses are money-order offices. The 

 number of letters which pass through the post- 

 office department in the course of a year is nearly 

 400,000,000. The number of miles which mails 

 travel over railways in a year is about 7,000,000 ! 

 The length of the English ocean mail line 

 is 55,000 miles, the mail-packets traversing 

 1,600,000 miles annually. The number of money- 

 orders issued yearly is 5,000,000. The number 



