KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 



101 



if we never remember to have heard this 

 bird discoursing music in a " melancholy " 

 strain? We unhesitatingly answer, yes; 

 but it was after the spoliation of her nest of 

 its callow brood, by the ruthless hand of a 

 heartless robber : — 



-Hark! How the nightingale laments 



Her ruin'd care, — too delicately framed 

 To brook the harsh confinement of the cage! 

 Oft when, returning with her loaded bill, 

 The astonish'd mother finds a vacant nest, 

 By the hard hand of unrelenting clowns 

 Robb'd — to the ground her vain provision falls! 

 Her pinions ruffle, and, low drooping, scarce 

 Can bear the mourner to the poplar shade; 

 Where, all abandoned to despair, she sings 

 Her sorrows through the ni^ht; and on the 



bough 

 Sole sitting, still, at every dying fall, 

 Takes up again her lamentable strain 

 Of winding woe; till, wide around, the woods 

 Sigh to her song, and with her wail resound! " 



Thus sings our sweet poet — Thomson. 

 Too well do we know — too often, alas ! have 

 we verified the truth of his elegant poetic 

 sketch ! 



Little more now remains to be said. When 

 you feed your branchers and nestlings on 

 German paste, remember always to rub in 

 with it hard-boiled yolk of egg, a little 

 bruised hemp-seed, and some sponge-cake. 

 Be careful to use Clifford's German paste, 

 that which is made with honey instead of 

 treacle ; the latter being far too gross for 

 their digestion. If ever you have occasion 

 to handle your birds, hold them securely, 

 but avoid all undue pressure ; and never 

 keep them longer in your warm hand than 

 is absolutely necessary. Their structure is I 

 curiously delicate, and the machinery of 

 their body is very easily destroyed. 



One word more. We take it for granted, 

 that you wish your nightingales to sing by 

 candle-light. To insure this, let them, from 

 September until the following Spring, hang 

 in one particular spot in the room where 

 you sit. When they become used to this, 

 they will feel quite at home and happy. 

 To change their position, would perhaps 

 unsettle them for months to come ! So sin- 

 gular are the fancies, and so peculiar are the 

 habits of this truly extraordinary bird! 



Some people aver that the song of the 

 nightingale is not the same by day as it 

 is by night. The fact is, it is listened to 

 under distinctly different feelings. There 

 can be no doubt that it is more effective by 

 night ; because all nature is in a state of 

 repose, and our minds are under different 

 influences. The strain, however, is virtu- 

 ally the same, and every note a volume. 

 It is not often that one meets with a kin- 

 dred spirit in the appreciation of this bird's 

 song. We want a few more Izaak Waltons 



amongst us. We have now in our mind's 

 eye the good old Izaak, rod in hand, setting 

 out at early dawn for the river's brink, 

 Philomel the while enchanting him with his 

 morning hymn : — 



" The stars were out — the sky was full of them, 

 Dotted with worlds. The land was all asleep." 



" Lord ! " exclaimed he, raising his eyes 

 aloft in the fulness of his overflowing heart 

 — " What music hast thou provided for the 

 saints in Heaven, when thou givest bad men 



SUCH MUSIC ON EARTH ? " 



A PLEASURE PARTY IN JULY. 



BY A VICTIM TO CIRCUMSTANCES. 



"I like to go a journey," says a popular 

 writer, in his amusing Essays, " but I like to 

 go alone." 



I used to think this a very anti-social feel- 

 ing, but I have since read my recantation. 

 Not that I am a whit less gregarious than 

 heretofore — ftut I have learned, that one 

 pleasure at a time is as much as I can enjoy; 

 and when I have my friends with me, I can 

 do without green fields, and wice wersy, as 

 Mr. Liston used to say. Moreover, to enjoy 

 a thing, however pleasant, en masse, requires, 

 a community of tastes and feeling rarely 

 met with in two persons,— never in half-a- 

 dozen. From these premises I would infer, 

 that parties of pleasure so invariably turn 

 out the reverse, that I cannot imagine why 

 they are called so, unless on the principle of 

 lucus a non lucendo. 



Happening, one day last summer, to be in 

 company with two or three friends, at the 

 house of a relation, some one of the party 

 spoke of a very pleasant village, about ten 

 miles from town, where he or she (I forget 

 which) had once passed a few days. " How 

 delightful a little excursion would be, this 

 fine weather ! charming ! suppose we all go ? 

 just the present party — where could we find 

 one more agreeable ? " 



It was voted nem. con. we could not : each 

 considering himself a leaven of fascination, 

 more than sufficient for the dough of his as- 

 sociates. Only one gentleman hung fire (I 

 suspect he had been a sufferer before), and 

 pleaded business ; but his wife voted on the 

 other side — and the ladies unanimously 

 declared the party would be incomplete 

 without him. There was no resisting such 

 an argument; so he yielded, against his 

 judgment, to female influence, as many a 

 wise man has done before him. 



We were to set off by six o'clock in the 

 morning. I, like a novice, was punctual to 

 the hour. My friend R., being a married 

 man, was better versed in the ways of the 

 ladies, and did not make his appearance 



