62 



KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 



A starling this year built its nest in a 

 filter, placed over a water-butt to purify the 

 rain water. One of the covers being dis- 

 placed, offered an easy access. A hole was 

 first scooped in the gravel ; straws and 

 feathers were carried in; the nest com- 

 pleted, the eggs laid, the young hatched, 

 and the young favorably progressing towards 

 maturity. But the evil day was at hand. 

 " The rain a deluge poured ; " the barrel 

 filled up ; the water rose, and the filter was 

 overflowed. You can guess the fate of the 

 luckless little ones ! They were drowned in 

 their nest. Succour came but too late to be 

 of any avail. Cold and stiff they were ; and 

 the sight pained the hearts of various little 

 ones, who had watched their upward growth, 

 and trusted that they might be protected 

 from feline evil eye. 



On a rising ground in our vicinity, and 

 about seven miles from Glasgow, " as the 

 crow flies," stands a thick wood of American 

 fir, and other trees. There this year, since 

 the 1st of June, have the starlings begun to 

 flock in the evenings; and now many thou- 

 sands nightly congregate. The number is 

 fast increasing, and shortly the immense 

 body will begin to perform those wheeling 

 and circling evolutions before retiring to 

 roost, of which you have already made 

 pleasing mention. During the day, detached 

 parties will accompany the various flights of 

 rooks to their feeding-grounds, and return 

 to their mutual roosting-place in the 

 evening. This routine will continue till their 

 departure ; the time of which altogether 

 depends on the weather. 



It is generally believed in this neighbor- 

 hood, by the country people, that since 

 starlings have been encouraged and become 

 plentiful, skylarks have become quite 

 scarce. This I cannot from observation 

 confirm ; but I believe that, if true, it is a 

 melancholy fact. The harsh croak of the 

 starling, in exchange for the delightful and 

 inspiriting melody of the lark who " at 

 Heaven's gate sings ! " No, no, no ! I have 

 been informed by respectable people, and 

 I am inclined to believe the fact, that they 

 have seen starlings in the act of sucking eggs. 

 As their food is entirely on the ground, of 

 course the nest of the lark will be more ex- 

 posed than that of any other bird to these 

 marauders. For my own part, I can discover 

 no good quality in the starling except its 

 sociability. It were better far to encourage 

 the blackbird, the thrush, and the linnet, 

 instead of ruthlessly destroying them for 

 purloining a little fruit. To owners of 



hardly to have been soiled. We have so many 

 nests in our grounds, that we have frequent op- 

 portunities for witnessing and admiring these little 

 niceties. — Ed. K. J. 



gardens I say, net your cherries and your 

 strawberries, and enjoy the harmonious 

 concert which the feathered choristers will 

 raise in the cool of the evening, as a thankful 

 acknowledgment for your protection. Let 

 your children become acquainted with the 

 various nests, and watch the various pro- 

 cesses of building, sitting, hatching, and 

 rearing, and they will learn wisdom — 

 becoming at once lovers of nature and 



nature's works. 

 Glasgow, July 6. 



J. B. M. 



BEAUTIES OF JULY. 



THE GAKDEN AND THE FIELD. 



BY WILLIAM HOWITT. 



"What a flower-blaze now burns in our 

 gardens ! 



Jasmines, speedwells, irises, campanulas, lych- 

 nises, pinks, carnations, lilies, heaths, rose- 

 campions, evening primroses, hydrangeas, musk- 

 roses, larkspurs, clemates, escholtzias, sweet 

 peas, lupines, vetches, hawk-weeds, amaranths, 

 globe-thistles, coreopses, lavateras, trumpet, and 

 monkey- flowers. The catalogue is endless ; the 

 brilliancy of their various hues is delectable. 



And over every field and heath it is the same. 

 The heather bursts into its crimson beauty on 

 the moorland hills ; the anglers by solitary rivers 

 gaze on flowers of wondrous beauty, which, like 

 themselves, dip their lines, and float into the 

 dreamy waters. 



Climbing plants festoon every hedge. The 

 wild hop, the briony, the traveller's joy, the large 

 white convolvulus, whose bold yet delicate flowers 

 wili display themselves to a very late period of 

 the year. Vetches, and white and yellow ladies' 

 bedstraw, invest every bush with varied beauty, 

 and breathe on the passer by, their faint summer 

 sweetness. 



The Campanula rotundifolia, the hare-bell of 

 poets, and the blue-bell of botanists, arrests the 

 eye on every dry bank, and rock, and way-side, 

 with its airy stems, and beautiful cerulean bells. 

 There, too, we behold wild scabiouses, mallows, 

 the woody nightshade, wood-betony, and cen- 

 taury. The red and white convolvulus also 

 throws its flowers under your feet, aud cornfields 

 glow with whole armies of scarlet poppies, and 

 cockle. Aye, even thistles diffuse a glow of 

 beauty over waste and barren places ! 



THE CURATE AND THE APPARITION : 

 AN EPISODE. 



BY EREDERIKA BREMER. 



My dinners became more and more 

 economical ; but my hopes continued to rise 

 until an evening, from which, in my calen- 

 dar, I date a new era with a cross. My land- 

 lord had just left me to my meditations, with 

 the comfortable observation, as a text, that 

 to-morrow I must, pay down my quarter's 



