and insect endurance can hold out no longer. 

 Sometimes the poor flies are glued down by 

 their hinder extremities — thus allowing freedom 

 to their head and front legs, which, being ele- 

 vated, give free play to their respiratory organs, 

 and prolonging life— to be further tortured by 

 want of food. Every person possessing only 

 common feelings of humanity, and who may be 

 halting between two opinions, must feel greatly 

 interested in putting these our assertions to the 

 proof. Let such carefully observe (whilst his 

 thoughtless neighbor is spreading the snare), the 

 almost supernatural endeavors of the poor un- 

 suspecting flies, when enveigled by these diaboli- 

 cal papers, to extricate their feet from the rivets. 

 Let them note how, in the vain effort, they tear 

 out in their final agonies each several limb 

 from its socket — their mis-shapen forms being 

 elevated, after death, to thrice their natural 

 height! The distinctly-audible vibrations of 

 their wings in their last dying pangs, as they 

 lie glued one to the other in countless numbers, 

 complete this picture of newly-invented horrors 

 (unfit even for Madame Tussaud's Inner 

 " Chamber ") — a picture, alas! but too faithfully 

 painted. These are simple " facts," which, by a 

 few moments of close observation, anybody may 

 verify by gazing on a well-filled " sheet of flies." 

 We have used the word " groan " with reference 

 to their agonies; and if any of our readers have 

 ever chanced to listen to the " horribly " peculiar 

 sounds produced by the motion of the prisoners' 

 quivering wings, either by day or by night (the 

 latter especially), one moment's reflection will 

 make them grateful that our fair correspondent, 

 Amelia W., has drawn forth from us this faith- 

 ful exposition of " things as they are." Do not 

 let us be mis-understood, however; flies must be 

 destroyed, for they are a nuisance. There is an 

 article called " Fly poison," and this we believe 

 speedily causes their death — relieving them at 

 once from a long protracted torture.] 



Health induced by Light and Sun. — I have 

 just been reading some remarks in a book on 

 this subject, and I send them to you, Mr. Editor, 

 to kuow if they are in substance correct. If 

 they are, it is fearful to imagine the condition of 

 those poor creatures, who are immured all their 

 lives in dwellings where light and sun can but 

 rarely penetrate. — " A free exposure to the light 

 and the sun's influence, has a great effect in 

 diminishing the tendency to disease. The sunny 

 side of the street should always be chosen as a 

 residence, for its superior healthiness. It has 

 been found in public buildings, &c, that those 

 are always the most healthy which are the 

 lightest and sunniest. In some barracks in 

 Russia, it was found, that in a wing where no 

 sun penetrated, there occurred three cases of 

 sickness for every single case which occurred on 

 that side of the building exposed to the sun's 

 rays. All other circumstances were equal— such 

 as ventilation, size of apartments, number of 

 inmates, diet, &c, so that no other cause for this 

 disproportion seemed to exist. In the Italian 

 cities, this practical hint is well known. Malaria 

 seldom attacks the set of apartments or houses 

 which are freely open to the sun, while, on the 

 opposite side of the street, the summer and 



autumn are very unhealthy, and even dangerous." 

 — There is so much appearance of truth in these 

 observations, that really their dissemination 

 becomes a matter of duty. If you agree with 

 me, Mr. Editor, will you let them appear in the 

 Public's Own Journal? — Humanitas. 



[We have much pleasure in doing as you wish. 

 The facts are under, rather than over -stated, and 

 the subject is one for grave and serious considera- 

 tion. We shall, at an early day, insert a paper 

 on the nature and effects of " Light."] 



What is Pleasure ? — Can you tell me, " dear 

 Mr. Kidd," wherein pleasure consists? I have 

 been arguing the point with a friend, and we 

 cannot agree at all about it. One calls pleasure 

 a reality, the other calls it an imagined good. 

 You are the referee. Will you, " dear Mr. 

 Editor," enlighten us, as is your wont when 

 applied to courteously? — Emily P., Carshalton. 



[We have been wondering, Miss Emily, for a 

 long time, what had become of you, — for we 

 dare not affect ignorance of your handwriting. 

 Once seen, it could never be forgotten (by us). 

 We are rejoiced to know that you are one of our 

 regular readers; and we remember well, you wear 

 a tunic in the garden, and are in other respects 

 " habited" comme il faut. We take some little 

 credit for this (see Vol. I., p. 72). You are an 

 excellent girl, and entitled to any favor at our 

 hands. You have asked us " what is pleasure ?" 

 If we were to give you our ideas of it in full, you 

 would require a private communication. If you 

 want this, say so. Meantime, as we must study 

 brevity here, take the pith of our ideas in the 

 language of Tucker. " In the common actions 

 and diversions of our lives, the pleasure lies 

 almost entirely in the pursuit, and very little in 

 the attainment. He that at whist should have 

 four honors, six trumps, always dealt him, would 

 lose his v/hole diversion. He would, in fact, 

 have nothing to do, save to throw down his cards 

 and win the game. In bowling, the player takes 

 care to deliver his bowl aright. He runs after it, 

 chides it, encourages it, writhes his body in all 

 manner of contortions as if to influence its bias. 

 In this consists his entertainment, for the joy of 

 winning the game is over in a moment. He takes 

 his stake, pockets it, and only thinks where to 

 throw the jack for beginning another cast." — So 

 saith Tucker. However, Miss Emily, there is 

 much more to be said. When next the question 

 is argued, send for us; and we pledge our word 

 to conduct the argument fairly, vis-a-vis. We 

 shall be glad indeed of an opportunity to see how 

 you have progressed in your garden by following 

 our instructions. We shall also see (what you 

 have before described with so much cruelly-pro- 

 voking accuracy) — " your garden costume." 

 Meantime, we shall try to carry out our idea of 

 " pleasure," by living in the pleasing " anticipa- 

 tion " of its speedy realisation at the pretty little 

 village of Carshalton. C est juste ; n'est cepasf] 



Sagacity of Cats. — Say w r hat you will, Mr. 

 Editor, cats are sagacious animals. My sister 

 had a tortoiseshell cat, which, when three months 

 old, was lost. Six months subsequently, as my 

 father (who is in the medical profession) was 

 letting himself into his house at midnight, a cat 



