34 



KIDD'3 OWN JOURNAL. 



miles S. E. of Tholon, a small town situated on 

 the S. E. of Lac Leman, and nearly opposite 

 "Cully," on the Vaudois side of the lake. 



Now, Mr. Editor, when the wind blows from 

 the Fort de l'Ecluse just above Bellegarde, 

 on the frontiers of France and Switzerland, you 

 must not fail to go to this spot, if you should 

 ever take it in your head to visit Geneva, not only 

 to see the splendid wild mountainous scenery from 

 this tremendous fortification, but also to witness 

 the remarkable Perte du Rhone. There is a very 

 good old-fashioned hotel here, and everything 

 very well and very reasonably served ; and 

 although it is a frontier town, the "gens 

 d'armes" never give you any trouble, if you are 

 only kind to them. They much prefer discussing 

 a '"pinte" of " medoc" and a cigar, to turning 

 your carriage inside out for the chance of finding 

 a bit of stale bread. However, when the wind 

 blows from the fort de l'Ecluse, it is a hundred 

 to one that the " dent d'oche commence a fume 

 sa pipe." 



It happened one morning in August, that 

 Bombyx and his family, accompanied by the old 

 "grandpapa des papillons," started in a large 

 open carnage for the Tour de Gourzes. It was a 

 glorious morning as", at six o'clock, we left our 

 residence — of course intent on a day's sport and 

 amusement ; and the wind was slightly from the 

 N.W. We went up the Berne Road by " Vennes," 

 les " croisettes," to the " chalet a gobet," here we 

 branched off to our right through Savigny, after 

 our party had refreshed their steeds, and myself 

 and brother had got up a glorious cats' hunt. 



We turned south from Savigny, and reached our 

 old friend the Chasseur about nine o'clock ; when 

 having disposed of some bread and cheese, and 

 ordered dinner at three, Bombyx and his sons, 

 with old grandpapa, Jean, and the German 

 servant, set off for the Tour de Gourzes ; whilst the 

 young ladies amused themselves by making cap- 

 tures at the foot of the mountain and fishing 

 water-beetles out of a neighboring pond. Many 

 were the beautiful captures made in butterflies, 

 moths, geometne, tinioe, and coleopterae ; and de- 

 lightful, too, was it to see old grandpapa, at nearly 

 eighty, the gayest of the gay. 



Myself and my brother were hunting for mice, 

 close by the old tower, when Ave heard Jean say 

 to himself (at the same time stroking his nose 

 significantly), " Voyons voir," the wind has quite 

 changed, and the heat is almost suffocating. 



"Parbleu oui," says grandpapa, applying his 

 handkerchief to his venerable bald cranium, " even 

 I am quite in a perspiration. I think the wind 

 blows from the Fort de l'Ecluse. However, we 

 shall be home in time." 



" Je voudrais bien," says Jean. 



After a little more sport we went down to the 

 chalet. There all was ready under the old plane 

 trees, and the first thing I smelt, Mr. Editor — 

 ah ! I suppose you have already guessed it — was 

 the inimitable omelette, the never-to-be-forgot- 

 ten " Soupe aux Herbettes," the exquisite 

 " Jainbon," the " Salade croquante," some deli- 

 cious " Briscelete," expressly for old grand-papa, 

 old Beaume, and Yvorne. 



At about five o'clock, we started on our return ; 

 but I overheard a conversation between Jean and 

 the postillion, which made me fancy we should not 



have such a pleasant trip home as we had 

 out. All went on smoothly and comfortably down 

 to Grand Vaux and Villette, although it had now 

 got fearfully " sombre" and overcast ; and thunder 

 was heard in Savoy. Our postillion (an uncom- 

 monly jovial fellow), pushed on as fast as he 

 could, and we were just getting into M Lutry" 

 when the loud voice of our postillion was heard. 

 " La dent d'oche fume sa Pipe ! " All eyes were 

 instantly turned towards the " Dent d'Oche ;" 

 and sure enough, immense heavy, lead-colored 

 clouds, were rolling over the lofty summit, and 

 slowly descending its huge sides, towards the 

 lake ; whilst others were winding round the 

 " Roche St. Julien, and reaching the Lake by the 

 " Vallee du Rhone." Every one was made as 

 snug as could be ; but it was of little use. Flash 

 after flash of the most vivid lightning followed 

 with awful rapidity. The " Dent d'Oche" fired 

 from the summit, midway, and base. This was 

 met by tremendous serpentining flashes, which 

 seemed to run along the lake as they burst from the 

 " Vallee du Rhone." The thunder was unceas- 

 ing, and fearfully loud. Luckily, the postillion 

 knew his horses, aud they were quiet as might be. 

 Presently we got to Pully, and here a deluge of 

 rain drenched us to the skin. The storm conti- 

 nued raging ; and as we neared Lausanne, by the 

 old " Route d'ltalie," and were passing" les Mous- 

 sequines," such a shower of hail fell, that I 

 really thought we should have had every bone in 

 our bodies broken. Fortunately, it was all up-hill, 

 and we escaped a good deal by keeping under the 

 carriage. Far otherwise was it with Bombyx and 

 his party. However, Jean and Bombyx were 

 laughing away to keep each other in good spirits. 

 Not so old grand-papa ; who lost his patience, and 

 got out to walk, thinking to get shelter in a .small 

 cottage which he knew to be close by. Here, 

 however, he was, unfortunately, much disap- 

 pointed — the owner being out, and the door 

 locked. In a back lane by MonRepos, the light- 

 ning fell twice within four yards of us. I confess we 

 were all now alarmed, and leaving the high road, 

 we went straight across a private field, and 

 reached home after the worst soaking I ever had 

 in my life. 



Old grand-papa arrived about half an hour 

 afterwards, worse off than any — positively like a 

 drowned rat. A good supper, and some hot grog, 

 put all to rights again. This storm lasted, on 

 and off, during two entire days. 



Now, Mr. Editor, you know what it is when 

 " La Dent d' Oche fume sa Pipe." — Believe me 

 to remain, your affectionate friend, 



Fiko. 



Tottenham, Jan. 20th, 1853. 



KIGHTEOTJS JUDGMENT. 



There is no word or action but may be taken 

 with two hands ; either with the right hand of 

 charitable construction, or the sinister interpre- 

 tation of malice and suspicion. All things so 

 succeed, as they are taken. To construe an 

 evil action well, is but a pleasing and profitable 

 deceit for myself. But to misconstrue a good 

 tiling, is a terrible wrong — to myself, the action, 

 and tbo author. — Bishop Hall. 



