344 



KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 



door, by upsetting a faggot placed within as 

 a fastening, and gained admittance to a huge, 

 low room, which might have been a kitchen ; 

 except that the only hint of a fire-place was 

 given by a line of broken flag-stones rather 

 blacker than the bricked floor, surmounted 

 by a large chimney. 



One tallow candle, flaring in its low tin 

 socket, disclosed this melancholy apartment, 

 about which I looked in vain for a flitch of 

 bacon, or a rope of onions, or a mouldy 

 cheese to hint of something that some one 

 might eat, or for a battered pewter pot, or 

 even a rim of liquor-stain on a bench or 

 table to indicate that once upon a time 

 something had been drunk there ; but a half- 

 chopped log of wood on a long deal table, 

 with a rusty cleaver beside it, was the nearest 

 approach to a vestige of humanity that I 

 could discover. I called ; I shouted ; not 

 even an echo answered, until, just as I was 

 departing in despair, a figure, half-ostler, 

 half-ogre, slouched in as if walking in its 

 sleep ; for if the eyes were open their sense 

 was unwakened ; and large, round, wide-open 

 they were, beneath a mat of reddish hair set 

 in a broad, dirty, fairish face, which sur- 

 mounted a mass of great coat and galligaskins 

 without form. In an extended hand the 

 figure grasped an enormous horse- whip, with 

 which, by a tremendous crack, he replied to 

 the absurd inquiries I addressed to him as to 

 the cause of our detention and the probability 

 of our departure. 



As E repeated these questions in idle 

 despair (for, of course, he could not under- 

 stand me), he only expanded his great eyes 

 and cracked his whip anew ; till I guessed 

 the fact that there was a failure in the supply 

 of horses, and that our conductor was gone 

 on a hopeful expedition among the upland 

 farms to beg, borrow, or otherwise acquire 

 animals for our need. But to the inquiry — 

 how long we were likely to wait, it was im- 

 possible to gain an intimation ; the ostler 

 stood stock still and cracked his whip, as if 

 by that movement he was discharging the 

 sole duty for which he was born ; when, 

 hopeless of obtaining a bit of truth, I should 

 have felt the most palpable lie to be a com- 

 fort. At last, I resolved " to walk on." 



I consider the above are well deserving 

 a place in Our Own Journal; and there- 

 fore, my dear sir, I offer no apology for their 



length. Honeysuckle. 



Henley. 



[It would be idle in us to tell the readers of 

 Ouk Journal that we delight in receiving their 

 friendly aid. No jealousy is there among them — 

 of that we are sure. We therefore offer no excuse 

 for making our Paper, to-day, more than usually 

 light, playful, attractive — yet solid withal. 

 " Honeysuckle " has helped us right lovingly. 

 Let us all thank her ; for she is a universal 

 favorite.] 



WHAT I LOVE. 



I love an open countenance, 



A kind and noble face ; 

 The index of an honest heart, 



That loves the human race ! 

 A brow on which a smile is thron'd, 



Like sunlight on a flower, — 

 As open as the regal skies, 



With beams of love and power ! 



I love the kind and welcome glance 



That proves we're not alone; 

 And oh ! how sweet to find at times 



Some feelings like our own ! 

 A heart that beats with purest hopes, 



To pity and to bless ; 

 That strives to make earth's comforts more, 



Its pains and follies less ! 



I love the man whose generous smile 



Is given with his hand — 

 Who sees his equal in all men, 



And all men equal stand ? 

 Who sees not the distinctions made 



By human laws between 

 The man who has and who has not, — 



But loves from what he's seen ! 



I love the man whose heart is true, 



Who seldom wears a frown ; 

 And loves all men, from him who toils 



To him who wears a crown ! 

 With mildness ever on his lips, 



A free and open mind, — 

 A brow with mental grandeur spann'd, 

 A soul supremely kind ! 



Quallox. 

 [This honest-hearted writer has chosen a 

 horribly ugly name. Let him change it by all 

 means ; and directly.] 



THE HARMONY OF NATURE. 



In a state of nature, no race of animals 

 is unhappy. They are all adapted to the mode 

 of life which God has ordained them to lead ; 

 and their chief enjoyment consists in pursu- 

 ing their natural habits, whatever these may 

 be. 



The woodpecker, while boring a tree, and 

 clinging to it for hours by its scandent 

 feet, is just as happy as the eagle is when 

 perched upon the mountain cliff, or pouncing 

 on its quarry from the clouds. Neither could 

 lead the life of the other, but each is happy in 

 the state which has been assigned to it ; and 

 this is observable throughout all nature. A 

 rat which burrows in a ditch, is as happy as 

 it could desire to be, so long as it can find 

 garbage sufficient to feed on ; and a heron, 

 immovably fixed, watching for the approach 

 of small fishes and frogs, has, there can be 

 little doubt, as much pleasure as any lover 

 of the angle can enjoy while wearing out the 

 summer day in marking his light float, and 

 waiting, in mute expectation, the wished-for 

 bite. 



