KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 



393 



Harmlessly yet ridiculously-pleasing. We 

 avow as much, when Ave all meet and pass. 

 Honi soil qui mal y pense ! 



As for the shops, — how shall we describe 

 them, and their commodities ? We cannot. 

 The grocer looks quite spicy. The dealer 

 in venison quite buck-ish. The poulterer 

 winks at us, as we pass ; and looking up, tells 

 us there has been " war with Turkey." The 

 pork-butcher recommends us, if our family be 

 large, to " go the whole hog; 1 ' and the brandy 

 merchant is quite in spirits while booking our 

 order. In short, there is no end to luxuries 

 — no end to the inducements held out to pur- 

 chase them. 



Covent Garden, too, exhibits a lively scene 

 at this season. Vegetables forced, and vege- 

 tables au naturel, are piled up in lavish abun- 

 dance. Rich fruits too are there; of every kind, 

 and from every quarter of the globe. Then 

 there are those immense branches of varie- 

 gated holly, with their pretty red berries; and 

 that universally-petted domestic ornament, — • 

 the misseltoe bough. Of these, there seems to 

 be no end. They arrive in large quantities, 

 but they are purchased as quickly. We ima- 

 gine there are very few houses indeed left 

 destitute of these honors. 



To view the various things we have hinted 

 at in outline, is now the daily occupation of 

 thousands ; and we repeat that we feel much 

 pleasure in seeing so many persons pleased. 

 Every face you meet is a study ; and every 

 street you pass through, leads to endless me- 

 ditation and thought. 



Having, in Our description of the " CHRIST- 

 MAS Tree," gossipped at some length upon 

 the grand object of families meeting at Christ- 

 mas, we "will not now dwell further upon it ; 

 but let us emphatically entreat all those who 

 are above want, not to forget at this season 

 " those for whom nothing is prepared." The 

 same eye that falls upon happy faces, gazing 

 into shop windows groaning under luxuries, 

 — falls also upon many a poor creature, pale, 

 wan, starving. Both parties are looking eagerly 

 and anxiously at the same things; but both are 

 actuated by widely different feelings. What 

 rejoices the one, is torture to the other. 



There are many ways of doing good, at 

 a small cost ; nor shall any of us sit down to a 

 comfortable dinner (on Christmas Day), the 

 less happy for having conferred a part of our 

 happiness upon some poor creature who 

 would otherwise, perhaps, have gone without 

 a meal whilst we were feasting. 



Sad outcries have reached us of 

 general sickness prevailing in the Poultry- 

 yards, far and near. We are asked to ac- 

 count for a variety of maladies, which have 

 been brought under our notice seriatim. 



There can be no doubt whatever, that the 

 sickness complained of arises from the damp- 



ness of the atmosphere ; and from the heavy 

 rains that have fallen from one end of the 

 country to the other. We are quite sure 

 that two-thirds at least of the ailments 

 spoken of, have their origin in this cause. 



The first thing to look to is, warmth ; and 

 the fowls' " walk " must be kept dry, sweet, 

 and wholesome. Clean water, of course, 

 must be given them daily, and a constant 

 variety of food. Boiled potatoes, rice, cab ■ 

 bage, bread and milk, &c, — all administered 

 warm ; these will soon work a change. 

 Wherever it is practicable, let your fowls 

 have a run in the garden. At this season, 

 they cannot do much harm ; and the live- 

 food they will find among the trees, cannot 

 fail to do them good. 



We have ever found it advisable, to have 

 earth mould as a top dressing to our poultry 

 yards ; and this is turned up constantly. 

 Not only does this arrangement keep the 

 ground dry by filtration, but it harbours a 

 multitude of worms ; and worms, at this 

 season, are invaluable for fowls. Of course 

 the ground is considerably raised ; and 

 perches are erected at a suitable height to 

 afford a retreat from the damp. Among all 

 our live-stock, not one single animal is ailing. 

 Yet have we our land saturated with water, 

 and every external cause for fear. 



It may be urged that we " love" our fowls, 

 and that we take extraordinary care of them. 

 That is true. But nothing can be well, and 

 efficiently done, without trouble. 



We are still teased to death about the 

 Cochin China fowls, and asked what we think 

 about them. We have already said, that we 

 cdnsider them awkward, ungainly creatures, 

 immensely over-rated in every respect. 

 Their eggs are not large ; their gait is frightfully 

 ugly ; and their crow is positively offensive, 

 — quite unearthly. We have given one state- 

 ment (borrowed) in our 50th number, of their 

 being good food for the table. The truth of 

 this, however, we very much doubt. Neither, 

 as yet, are they hardy birds. 



The same furore was extended towards these 

 gigantic birds, as was recently shown for enor- 

 mously-large strawberries, prize oxen, over- 

 fat rabbits, &c, &c. There always does 

 exist some unnatural morbid taste ; and this 

 is one. We shall never admit any such mons- 

 trosities among our stock. 



To show the mania that prevails in favor 

 of these gawky birds, we need only point to 

 the late sale at the Baker Street Bazaar. 

 There were 200 birds sold there, belonging 

 to Mr. Sturgeon, of Grays. The united sale 

 realised, we are told, nearly £700. There 

 were some single specimens which sold for 

 12 guineas ; and numbers produced £4, £5, 

 and £G each. 



All sorts of persons attended the sale ; both 

 high, low, and middle men. Those which 



