KIDD'S OWN JOUKNAL. 



287 



face of the waters. To stroll and dabble 

 among these natural curiosities, affords a 

 peculiar delight — known to none but those 

 who are in the secret. 



The means of seeking happiness and en- 

 joyment during the present month, are very 

 various. Whitsuntide is the signal for holi- 

 day-making and rejoicing. On and after 

 Whit- Monday, we meet Pleasure's votaries in 

 most Protean shapes. That day is appointed 

 for " the vans " to commence plying to and 

 from Hampton Court. The inmates and 

 supporters of these, deserve pity rather than 

 blame. Habit has seasoned them to noise 

 and dissipation, and they can see no fun or 

 enjoyment in anything else. Tee-totallers 

 are among their staunchest adherents ; and 

 those who have " taken the pledge," break it 

 just as often as they go out pleasuring ! It 

 is grievous to observe these things, and sad 

 to know that they cannot be altered. 



The same excesses go on in the various 

 steam-boats below bridge. Indeed, from the 

 present moment until October, little will be 

 thought of by the people but unrestrained 

 indulgence in beer, spirits, and tobacco. 

 These, as we have elsewhere shown, are their 

 only god. It is sad to think, that the 

 masses are not the only offenders ! The re- 

 freshing air of Heaven is everywhere 

 poisoned at this season by people who ought 

 to know better. It is indeed to be regretted, 

 that what little intellect a man has, should 

 be so besotted ! Mais chacun a son gout. 



June is just the season when Nature de- 

 lights to show forth what wonders she has 

 been secretly working during the earlier 

 months. When she first begins to rub her 

 eyes, and awaken to her lovely task, she puts 

 not forth half her strength. She shows us a 

 world of minor beauties, and makes us fall 

 in love with them ; but these merely amuse 

 us while the great work is going on. The 

 finishing touches of her ladyship's toilet are 

 now just being completed, and we shall 

 shortly see her seated on her throne of 

 beauty — looking down on the work of her 

 hands, and rejoicing thereat. 



Already have we revelled in the magic beau- 

 ties of the magnificent chestnuts in Bushy Park, 

 and wandered far into the recesses of certain 

 forests ; noted the progress of vegetation in 

 woods and parks ; and listened early and late 

 to the song of the blackbird, thrush, laverock, 

 and linnet. We have followed the bee, 

 chased the butterfly, hunted the grasshopper, 

 and viewed the blithe companies of gnats as 

 they hovered up and down in the warm air, 

 like motes in a sunbeam. We have frolicked 

 in the meads, and danced among the flowers. 

 We have joined the lambs in their gambols, 

 and been ravished with delight whilst gazing 

 on the endless profusion of blossoms, ex- 



tending far beyond the reach of vision. 

 This is nice amusement in May. 



What awaits us in June is still better. 

 We shall have no end of flowers in the 

 garden, to say nothing of those lovely 

 creations that await us in the fields ; — 



Ye Field Flowers ! the gardens eclipse you, 'tis 



true ; 

 Yet, wildings of Nature, I doat upon you ; 



For ye waft me to summers of old, 

 When the earth teemed around me with fairy de- 

 light, 

 And when daisies and buttercups gladdened my 

 sight, 

 Like treasures of silver and gold. 



Oh, with what real pleasure do we greet the 

 advent of each pretty stranger, as we recog- 

 nise its re-appearance amongst us in the 

 lanes ! Inexhaustible are their beauties, ren- 

 dered doubly loveable by their innocent and 

 modest pretensions. But we must not dwell 

 upon this. 



In a state of culture, we shall speedily re • 

 joice in our geraniums, pinks, sweet-Wllliams, 

 columbines, fritillary, lupines, Virginian 

 stocks, mignonette, balsams, fuchsias, 

 amaranths, poeonies, love-lies-bleeding, &c, 

 &c. And then our roses! Of these we 

 must be silent ; or our printer will go raving 

 mad. He has already circumscribed our limits 

 most unmercifully. 



Hay-making, too, will be among the out- 

 door amusements. This was a ceremony in 

 which we always delighted to assist. We 

 trace many happy hours to our reminiscences 

 of the hay-field. Hay-making, however, is 

 not conducted now as it was of yore. We 

 have degenerated in this, as well as in other 

 agricultural matters. Formerly, there was 

 little care brooding on the brow of the 

 mower, and as little on the nut-brown coun- 

 tenances of the hay-makers. Boys and 

 girls, men and women, mistress and maid, 

 master and servant — all used, once upon a 

 time, to take a fork, and revel in the fra- 

 grance of the new -mown hay. Care, how- 

 ever, does now crowd upon the countenance; 

 and it is only now and then that we can, by 

 favor, join in our old much-loved sport. 



As the month advances, our walks begin 

 to be haunted with the richness of beauty. 

 There are splendid evenings, clear, serene, 

 and balmy, tempting us to continue our stroll 

 till after sunset. We see around us fields 

 golden with crowfoot, and cattle basking in 

 plenty. We hear the sonorous streams 

 chiming into the milk pail in the nooks of 

 crofts, and on the other side of hedges. It 

 is now that the mind, which has been con- 

 tinually led onward by the expansion of days, 

 leaves, and flowers, seems to repose on the 

 fulness of nature. Everything is clothed. 

 The spring actually seems past. We are 

 surrounded by all that beauty, sunshine, and 



