94 



KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 



Some masters and mistresses can never tame 

 their birds ; never get them to be on terms 

 of intimacy. The cause is evident. There 

 are no feelings of affection in common between 

 them. They do not love their birds. The 

 latter know as much ; and are assuredly 

 aware that they are kept simply for the 

 sake of furnishing amusement. We have 

 noted the same unerring sagacity with all 

 our squirrels. They would constantly detect 

 any person who might be preparing, or 

 wishing, to play them off some practical 

 joke, and would, to our great delight, fasten 

 on them at once, — paying handsomely, and in 

 full, for all favors "about to be" received. 

 It was, however impossible for us to anger 

 them. They too well knew the friendliness 

 of our disposition, seeing what merry romps 

 and gambols we had together, both by day 

 and night ; up stairs, down stairs, and in the 

 garden. No doubt it is a wise provision of 

 Nature thus to endow our little friends 

 with instinctive powers of perception. The 

 face is the index of the mind. They read 

 our character when they catch our eye. But 

 to return. 



The nightingale is a remarkable bird for 

 more reasons than one. He is of the most 

 peculiar habits too, whilst sojourning in this 

 country. In some of our most beautiful 

 counties, his visits are unknown. He reli- 

 giously avoids them ; and if caught and let 

 loose there, his exit is as speedy as his 

 entrance. Thus, for instance, he discards, 

 among other beautiful localities, Wales and 

 Devonshire.* In these places, " his voice is 

 never heard." Nor does he wander far into 

 our northern manufacturing counties. He 

 shows his good taste therein. 



There has been a pretty reason assigned 

 for his seceding from Devonshire. The fair 

 lassies of that favored spot, are, it is said, 

 gifted with heavenly voices ; and sing so 

 sweetly withal, that our bard of song feels 

 he can have "no position" there.f His 

 gallantry, therefore, and excellent judgment, 



* The fact of the nightingale not being ever 

 heard or seen in Devonshire — a most astounding 

 truth — is we observe again confirmed in the 

 Naturalist, No. 4. R. A. Julian, Esq., a very 

 intelligent and watchful correspondent of this 

 interesting work, writing from Lara House, Ply- 

 mouth, says — " I have never observed either the 

 nightingale or reed warbler in Devonshire; 

 although I have seen them both tolerably 

 numerous in all our Midland counties." 



f Our correspondent, "Amicus Volucrum," 

 is quite right in his remarks about Buffon, Bech- 

 stein, and other speculative commentators on 

 the nightingale. They run riotously wild in 

 their description of his imagined song, losing 

 sight entirely of the harmony of his improvised 

 gushes of melody. No person can give any 

 adequate verbal description of the nightingale's 

 song. The happiness of the bird is so perfect, 



cause him to direct his flight to other less- 

 favored parts. We secretly incline however 

 to the belief that he does visit Devonshire — 

 not as a "performer" indeed, but as a list- 

 ener ; for the Devonshire syrens are, be it 

 known, most lovely choristers. Horamage 

 aux dames! Do not let us, for one single 

 instant, deprive them, even in thought, of 

 the happy conceit that exists in their praise. 



Why our hero has banished himself from 

 the picturesque scenery of Wales, does not 

 so clearly appear. The Welsh harpists and 

 the warbling Jenny Jones-es— attractive 

 though the former, and charming though the 

 latter be — yet come not up to his mark. 

 Perhaps his tribe have been undervalued in 

 times gone by — their vocal powers not duly 

 appreciated. The Principality have slighted 

 him ; their punishment has been condign ! 

 We think Philomel is to be commended for 

 quitting that locality. 



We can more readily comprehend why his 

 lovely face and transporting voice have been 

 averted from Ireland. His song can never 

 be sung in that ill-fated country. Even the 

 skylarks, there, forsake their natural food 

 (this we have most satisfactorily proved in 

 our first Volume, at much length), and with 

 morbid greediness prey on the germ of the 

 young budding corn. It is said that they 

 devastate, in armies, whole acres of land by 

 their voracious appetites. Joyous by nature 

 as our English lark, the Irish lark has 

 attempted to rise on the wing, and chant 

 his heavenly anthem, but could not. Vox 

 faucibus hcesitf He cannot sing — neither 

 can the nightingale — his heavenly song in 

 " so strange a land." 



THE HUMAN PULSE. 



Years do not always confer wisdom. How 

 many of us are there who are yet ignorant 

 of the commonest matters ! The pulse for 

 instance, — we see the physician feel it, and 

 are aware that he gains much knowledge 

 from it of his patient's state of health. Yet 

 cannot we say why or how. Let us give a 

 few minutes' consideration to this. 



It is almost unnecessary to premise that 

 by the pulse is meant the beat of an artery, 

 and that the one commonly chosen for ex- 

 amination is the radial artery, which beats 

 at the wrist. The first point generally attended 

 to is the number of the beats ; and since in this, 

 as in all other medical questions, it is neces- 

 sary to be acquainted with the state of health, 

 in order to recognise any deviation from it, 

 we must mention the ordinary frequency of 

 the pulse at different ages. 



his abandon to the inspiration of his muse so 

 complete, that there is no end to the variety of 

 his expressed notes. 



