64 



KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 



Sow to cure Parrots of pulling out their Fea- 

 thers. — I have read in our Journal, various 

 complaints of the difficulty that exists in curing 

 parrots of this disfiguring habit ; and I have 

 never felt satisfied that any of the modes pro- 

 posed as "cures," went to the bottom of the 

 evil ; in fact, the disease, for disease it is, is evi- 

 dently not understood. I have at the request of 

 a correspondent, made an inquiry on the subject 

 in the Naturalist. In the remarks I am now 

 about to make, I am by no means sure that I 

 have approached nearer to a solution of the diffi- 

 culty ; but they may suggest to those interested, 

 a more probable clue to the origin of the habit 

 than would arise from any of the articles above 

 alluded to. I take no credit to myself for the 

 idea. ' It has been conveyed to me by Mr. D. 

 Graham, a most respectable and first-rate bird- 

 stuffer, of this city (YorkJ. Knowing that he 

 kept a grey parrot, I spoke to him on the sub- 

 ject of parrots denuding themselves of their fea- 

 thers. He said that a Falconer (I believe in the 

 employment of the Duke of Leeds) had told him 

 that the habit was caused by the presence of an 

 insect of some kind, and that a certain cure for it 

 was to wash the bird in whiskey. It struck me at 

 once, that this was an excellent suggestion ; and 

 that it could do no harm to hint as much in our 

 Journal — supplying the "bane and antidote" at 

 the same time. The proper mode of investiga- 

 ting the subject would be — to examine the 

 skin of one of the diseased birds with a strong 

 magnifier. The parasite would be either 

 a Pediculus, of a moderate size — probably 

 not less than one-twentieth of an inch 

 long, or an Acarus, like the itch insect, and which 

 would not be visible, unless greatly magnified. 

 Should any little pustules or pimples be observed, 

 they should be opened with a needle. The matter 

 exuding therefrom, should then be placed on a 

 piece of glass ; and when covered with a second 

 piece of glass, submitted to a microscope of high 

 powers. This would determine the question ; for 

 should an Acarus be present, it would readily be 

 seen. I am inclined to suspect that an Acarus is 

 the enemy ; and, in such case, whiskey or any 

 other spirit, would be a certain cure. I shall be 

 very glad to hear the result of any experiments 

 on this matter, resulting from these remarks. — 

 Beverley R, Morris, M.D., York, Jan. 21, 1853. 



[A question is here raised, in which we know 

 not how many hundreds — perhaps thousands of 

 persons, feel deeply interested. Parrots, in this 

 country, are extensively " petted," and very large 

 sums are given for "good birds." It is truly 

 vexatious, to see some of these costly animals 

 suffering from an unknown enemy, who deslroys, or 

 eats away, all that is elegant in their varied 

 costume. We will canvass the subject ; and, if 

 possible, arrive at the direct cause of the evil.] 



PRIMROSES. 



" Three bunches a-penny, primroses ! " 



BY ELIZA COOK. 



" Three bunches a-penny, primroses ! " 



Yes ; dear is the greeting of Spring, 

 When she offers her dew-spangled posies, 

 The fairest creation can bring ! 



" Three bunches a-penny, primroses ! " 



The echo resounds in the mart ; 

 And the simple " cry" often uncloses 

 The worldly bars grating man's heart. 



We reflect, we contrive, and we reckon 

 How best we can gather up wealth. 



We go where bright finger-posts beckon, 

 Till we wander from Nature and Health. 



But the " old cry" shall burst on our scheming, 

 The song of " Primroses" shall flow ; 



And " Three bunches a-penny" set dreaming 

 Of all that we loved long ago. 



It brings visions of meadow and mountain, 



Of valley, and streamlet, and hill ; 

 When Life's ocean but played in a fountain — 



Ah, would that it sparkled so still ! 



It conjures back shadowless hours, 



When we threaded the wild forest ways ; 



When our own hand went seeking the flowers, 

 And our own lips were shouting their praise. 



The perfume and tint of the blossom 

 Are as fresh in vale, dingle, and glen ; 



But say, is the pulse of our bosom 

 As warm and as bounding as then ? 



" Three bunches a-penny, primroses ! " 



" Three bunches a penny, — come buy ! " 

 A blessing on all the spring posies, 



And good-will to the poor ones who cry ! 



I'LL THINK ON THEE ! 



BY HELEN HETHERINGTON. 



I will think on thee, when Summer flowers 



Near thy happy home are springing ; 

 When the sun brightly beams on our favorite 

 bow'rs, 



And the birds are sweetly singing. 

 Again I will visit the path where we rov'd, 



Bright joys that still fondly endear thee ; 

 I will wander again o'er the scenes that you 

 loved, 



And fancy that thou art still near me. 



I will think on thee, when the Wintry wind 



Howls a requiem o'er the departed ; 

 I remember thy pity, thy love for mankind, 



Whom sorrow had left broken-hearted. 

 And I'll pray that true peace may for ever be 

 thine, 



Thy name I will breathe most devoutly ; 

 Oh ! when shall thy dear smiles again brightly 

 shine 



On the heart that is lonely without thee ? 



I will think on thee when fortune lowers, 

 When sorrow and sadness distress me ; 



I will think on thee in my happier hours; 

 Yes ; my lips shall for ever bless thee. 



I know I am fondly remembered by thee, 

 This hope sweetly beams on the morrow ; 



But I need thy kind aid, and a prayer breath'd 

 for me, 



To lighten my heart of its sorrow. 



