158 



KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 



up a whole number of your Journal with a few 

 only of the freaks of Vanessa Antiopa, but it is 

 unnecessary. — Bombyx Atlas, Tottenham. 



" All is not Gold that glitters."— -Mr. Editor- 

 Reading " Cunningham's New South Wales," 

 written in 1826, 1 came across the following anec- 

 dote, which struck me as a somewhat curious 

 illustration of the old adage that " Many a true 

 word is spoken in jest." It is just possible, 

 under the extraordinary revelations that are now 

 taking place, you may consider it worthy a nook 

 in Our Journal. — An eminent mineralogical 

 dilettanti, who made a casual trip among us 

 some years back, nearly turned the hitherto 

 sober heads of our plodding colonists (Sydney), 

 by the valuable mines of gold he predicted their 

 land to contain, from the rich specimens of that 

 precious metal he picked up thereupon, even 

 before their eyes ; and upon spots too which they 

 had paced over some hundreds of times before, 

 without ever observing the like. On such dif- 

 ferent principles are scientific eyes constructed ! 

 Peru was now considered a mere pauper warren 

 in comparison with Australia; but while our 

 Croesuses in anticipation were yet busied with 

 their grave calculations about the mode in which 

 the mines should be worked, passing days of care 

 and sleepless nights in counting over their 

 visionary wealth, the golden dreams were sud- 

 denly dissipated by a certain " Paul Pry " of a 

 convict- servant whispering in his master's ear 

 that — " He seed the gemman take the stone out 

 of his pocket, drop it on the ground, and then 

 pick it up again." The truth of this was amply 

 demonstrate! by a patch of paper pasted upon its 

 corner (overlooked before by the delighted pos- 

 sessor) — proving it to be a specimen which the 

 " man of science had originally extracted from 

 one of Mawe's Mineralogical Cabinets." This 

 is rich — is it not? — W. V. 



[The auri sacra fames — the cursed thirst for 

 gold, seems to haunt the whole world. These 

 tricks, therefore, are suggested by their cupidity. 

 The " eminent mineralogist " did what all the 

 rest of mankind seem doing: — viz. tried to cheat 

 those who were fools enough to allow themselves 

 to be cheated. The name of gold is a demon. 

 Already have many thousands left England, in 

 pursuit of gold, who were rejoicing in salaries of 

 from £200 to £300 ! Who would pity them if 

 they were ruined ? Not we.] 



Whims of Gold Fishes. — I have three gold fish, 

 Mr. Editor, in a glass globe. Of these, one 

 (spotted black) has for the last few days taken 

 it into his head to balance himself on the ex- 

 treme end of his nose. How long he would 

 remain thus balanced I cannot say ; but he gene- 

 rally gets a forcible " reminder," from the tail of 

 one of his brethren, within three minutes, and 

 this soon " rights " him again. However, watch- 

 ing his opportunity, he is quickly at his old 

 tricks, and upright as a Maypole. Can you, Mr. 

 Editor, account for this freak? — A Constant 

 Subscriber " though' ' a Bookseller. 



[And have we really a veritable flesh and 

 blood " bookseller " to be courteous to? Yes, 

 indeed! and he has given his name and address 

 too! Well, these we generously withhold. If 



his brethren knew that he either kept, sold, or 

 felt interested in the success of " our Journal," 

 woe be to him and to his family! He would 

 be put at once upon the " black list " — the 

 " privileges of the trade " would be denied him, 

 and himself a "marked man." This we will 

 prevent. Listen, thou " noblest work of God," 

 thou "honest" bookseller! Your little finny 

 friend, if he be well and happy, is beyond all 

 question fond of gymnastics ; and all these little 

 antics of his must be encouraged. These inno- 

 cent, sportive gentlemen, are full of harmless fun; 

 and you may teach them anything. Do not 

 give them biscuit, bread, millet, or any such food. 

 They require none. The animalcules which 

 abound in the water (which should be changed 

 daily) are all they need to sustain life. Thou- 

 sands die from having biscuit, &c, thrown into 

 the globe, which sours the water, and injures 

 the inmates. If we can serve you further, com- 

 mand us. We love to return "good for evil!"] 



Notes on the Peacock. — The following being 

 rather singular in its way, I am desirous, Mr. 

 Editor, of having it registered in the public 

 records of Our Journal. Some time since, I 

 had a very handsome pied peacock and peahen. 

 The latter, contrary to custom, commenced 

 laying when only a twelvemonth old; and in 

 due time hatched four young ones. About six 

 weeks after this, from some unknown disease, 

 she suddenly died. In this dilemma, what could 

 be done with the young birds? A committee of 

 the whole house was called, and the decision was, 

 that plenty of food (ants' eggs being what 

 they delight in) should be given them, and they 

 left to chance. To my great surprise and delight, 

 on going to feed them, I found the old peacock 

 (who had never before noticed them, except to do 

 them an injury) busily engaged in tending them 

 and ministering to their wants — aye, as well as 

 the mother could have done. Under his care we 

 reared them. This same old bird, I would re- 

 mark, was in the habit of coming up to the 

 window every evening about six o'clock, to get 

 a piece of bread. He would then adjourn with 

 it to the fruit-garden. He had then been in our 

 possession about ten years, and was by no means 

 " young '• when we first called him ours. Can 

 any of your readers tell me the usual duration of 

 these birds' life?— P. P. 



OLIVE HATHAWAY. 



BY MlSS MITEORD. 



Olive Hathaway has always appeared 

 to me a very interesting creature. Lame 

 from her earliest childhood, and worse than 

 an orphan — her mother being dead, and her 

 father, from mental infirmity, incapable of 

 supplying her place, she seemed prematurely 

 devoted to care and suffering. Always 

 gentle and placid, no one ever remembered 

 to have seen Olive gay. Even that merriest 

 of all hours — the noon-day play-time at 

 school — passed gravely and sadly with the 

 little lame girl. She had no troop of play- 



