KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 



181 



aid of Violet ? By answering her inquiry, they 

 will essentially serve us.] 



The Cud. — The cod is exclusively an inhabi- 

 tant of the sea ; never even visiting fresh-water 

 streams. It is found only in cold or temperate 

 climates. It does not exist in the Mediterranean, 

 or any other inland sea whose entrance is nearer 

 to the equator than the fortieth degree. It ap- 

 pears, indeed, to be confined to the northeni parts 

 of the world, although few have been taken north 

 of Iceland. It abounds, however, on the south 

 and west coasts of that country, and likewise on 

 the coasts of Great Britain and Norway. The 

 cod uniformly keeps in deep water, and never 

 approaches the shore, excepting for the purpose 

 of" depositing its spawn. The general weight of 

 the cod is from 14 to 40 pounds. The largest 

 cod ever found on the coast of Great Britain was 

 taken off Scarborough in 1755, and weighed 

 78 pounds ; its length was 5 feet 8 inches, 

 and its girth round the shoulders 5 feet. As 

 indicated by the size of its mouth, stomach, and 

 bowels, it is extremely voracious. It preys upon 

 small fish of every description ; the herring and 

 sprat are its favorite food. The cod, however, 

 is far from particular in its choice ; for it likewise 

 feeds on worms, mollusca, and Crustacea. From 

 thirty to forty small crabs, about an inch and a 

 half in breadth, have been taken from its sto- 

 mach, and the gastric juice of that organ is so 

 strong that the shells and hardest portions are 

 speedily dissolved by it. — W. F. 



Birds in Town and Birds in the Country. — The 

 following, Mr. Editor, is worthy attention. In 

 the course of some inquiries made by certain gen- 

 tlemen, one of whom was Professor Owen, a 

 slaughterman was questioned, who was also a 

 bird-fancier. He had lived in Bear-yard, near 

 Clare-market, exposed to the combined effluvium 

 from a slaughterhouse and a tripe factory. He 

 particularly noted, as having a fatal influence 

 on the birds, the stench raised by boiling down 

 the fat from the tripe offal. He said, "You may 

 hang the cage out of the garret window in any 

 house round Bear-yard, and if it be a fresh bird 

 it will be dead in a week." He had previously 

 lived, for a time, in the same neighborhood, in a 

 room over the Portugal-street burial-ground. That 

 place was equally fatal to his birds. He had re- 

 moved to Vere-street, Clare-market, beyond the 

 smells from those two places, and he was able 

 to keep his birds. In town, however, the ordi- 

 nary birds did not usually live more than eigh- 

 teen months ; in cages in the country, they 

 would live nine years or more, on the same food. 

 When he particularly wished to preserve a pet 

 bird, he sent it now and then into the country 

 for a change of air. — Do you not think, Mr. Edi- 

 tor, that the currents of air to which birds are 

 exposed in London, often kill them ? People ap- 

 pear to me never to imagine such a thing possi- 

 ble !— Maria P. 



[You are quite right Mademoiselle. Thousands 

 of birds die annually in London, from catching 

 cold in this way.] 



Tlie Earth, a Furnace. — It is known as a fact 

 in geology, that below the depth of thirty feet the 



earth becomes regularly warmer as we descend. 

 On an average, the increase is at the rate of one 

 degree of Fahr. for every fifth foot. At the bot- 

 tom of the mines of Cornwall — a depth of one 

 thousand two hundred feet — the thermometer 

 stands at eighty-eight, equal to high summer-heat. 

 At this rate, rocks and metals would be melted 

 twenty miles below the surface ; and down in the 

 bowels of the earth several hundred miles, the 

 heat would be ten thousand times hotter than 

 melted iron. Who is there that can wonder at 

 earthquakes, when all things rest on a molten sea 



of fire ?— G. 



The House Sparrow. — The geographical range 

 of this well known-bird is very extensive. He 

 is common throughout Europe, the islands of 

 the Mediterranean, in the north of Africa, in Asia 

 also, in the Himalayan district, and in various 

 other parts. Everywhere he is the same ; at least, 

 under the same circumstances, except indeed in 

 appearance ; for how unlike is the smoke-begrimed 

 sparrow of the town to the handsomely-plumaged 

 bird of the country ! Everywhere he makes him- 

 self at home. The " cloud-capp'd towers" and 

 the poor law union-house, the lowly-thatched 

 cottage and the splendid Gothic mansion, nay, 

 the very palace of the Queen of England herself, 

 one and all bear testimony to the universality of 

 the dispersion of the sparrow, and the self-accom- 

 modating nature of his domiciliary visitations. 

 The following pleasing instance of both instinct 

 and affection is mentioned by Mr. Cordeaux : — 

 Living in the City portion of the great metropolis 

 of London, I observed one afternoon, in the aper- 

 ture generally left for the cellar or kitchen win- 

 dow when underground, an unfledged house 

 sparrow, incapacitated from flying to any distance. 

 It had been inadvertently precipitated down 

 this same dungeon, across which, in an oblique 

 direction, was laid an iron bar, extending within 

 a foot of the surface. The mother was at the top, 

 looking down with pity and alarm at the awkward 

 position of this, perhaps, her only child. Many 

 and ingenious were the attempts on the part both 

 of parent and offspring for the regaining of the 

 latter's lost position ; each and all proved futile 

 and unavailing. I looked on with a degree of 

 pleasurable excitement, mixed with fear and 

 anxiety lest the drama should be incomplete by 

 the flying away of the mother and the desertion 

 of the child. But no ! Nature's uncalculated 

 ways on these points are perfect and all-sufhcient, 

 as this case most beautifully proves ; for although 

 each new proposal seemed to be blasted in the 

 carrying out, at length the intelligent creature, 

 after considering for a moment, flies away, returns 

 with a stout straw in its beak, and rests for a few 

 moments on the edge. Then conceive my delight, 

 when the little nestling, after a chirp or two from 

 its mother, learning no doubt the particulars of 

 the project, climbs to the farthest end of the bar, 

 next the ground, receives the proffered straw in 

 its beak, and is raised, to my breathless and un- 

 speakable astonishment, to the earth, on which its 

 now delighted mother stands. It is often remarked 

 what impudent birds are London sparrows ; and 

 not without reason. Born and bred in the bustle 

 of the town, they must either live and jostle 

 with the crowd, or look down from the house- 

 tops and die of hunger. Naturally enough, they 



