KIDD'S LONDON JOURNAL. 



TO CORRESPONDENTS. 



J. Norman.— Your address is written so illegibly, that 

 we cannot communicate with you till we hear again. 



A. Brooks.— Your bird is a valuable one, and worth 

 what you assess it at. It is only a " fancier," however, 

 that would become a purchaser. 



T. Hughes.— Thanks for your kind suggestions. We 

 have already in vieAV what you propose ; but the ques- 

 tion of wood engravings must stand over for the pre- 

 sent. The information you offer about the "Art of 

 Stuffing and Preserving Birds," scarcely comes within 

 our scope ; at all events, just now. 



J. Taylor.— Address the Secretary of theLinnaean Society, 

 32, Soho Square, yourself. We have written to him 

 for you, but no reply has been sent to us. 



N. R. — For particulars "to catch sparrows in large num- 

 bers," we refer you to any of the bird-dealers in the 

 Seven Dials. 



E, C— Our space is so circumscribed, that "Fugitive 

 Poetry " can only be admissible under very peculiar 

 circumstances. We are already overwhelmed with 

 similar "kind offerings." This "reply" will suffice 

 for all the writers. Their favors have merit, and 

 would be readily available in a Monthly Magazine. 



New Subscribers, and Casual Readers, are referred to 

 the Leading Article in our First Number for the 

 detailed objects of the London Journal : to these 

 we shall rigidly adhere. 



Private Letters. — Of these Ave daily receive such 

 immense quantities, that we must really beg the 

 writers to excuse our not replying to them. Our time 

 is more profitably occupied. All vacancies, as they arc 

 called, are filled up. Let this general answer suffice. 



Correspondents sending in any " facts" connected with 

 Science or Natural History, are requested in every 

 case to append their names and places of abode. In no 

 instance, however, will their names be published with- 

 out their express sanction. 



Notice to Subscribers and Others. — It having been 

 deemed expedient, to meet the views of the Trade, that 

 this Journal should always be published by anticipa- 

 tion, Contributors and others will be so kind as to 

 bear in mind that they must give us an extra " week's 

 grace," and wait patiently till their favors appear. 



All persons who may send in MSS., but which may not 

 be " accepted," arc requested to preserve copies of 

 them, as the Editor cannot hold himself responsible 

 for their return. 



To obtain this Paper without any difficulty, our readers 

 need only order it to be sent to them by any of their 

 local Booksellers or Newsvendors. It is published 

 simultaneously with all the other weekly periodicals. 



KIDD'S LONDON JOURNAL. 



Saturday, February 7, 1852. 



We have already given a passing " hint " 

 about the nature of our daily duties — more 

 particularly those duties connected with the 

 examination of " Correspondence " in our 

 Letter-box — or as, WE call it, the " Lion's 

 mouth." 



The "whip of small cords" that we re- 

 cently administered to the backs of certain 

 small-fry, who deluged us with their " Odes 

 to Chirping Grasshoppers," "Lines on Love- 

 able Lilies," and " Addresses to a Monkey," 

 &c. — have had some effect; and as yet, they 

 slumber. Like " Victorine," they " sleep on 

 it." May their muse never awaken, whilst 

 we are above ground ! 



We are now beset by another class. It 

 seems, " Our Work is thought excellent — 

 everybody likes it — everybody is loud in its 

 praise ; hit " This " but " involves mat- 

 ter for serious consideration ; no less than 



for 



our throwing up the reins Editorial 

 others to drive our team. 



We don't go the " slapping pace," we are 

 told. We ought, says one, " to give more 

 Tales every week : " another says, "Jill it 

 with matter referring to birds only ; " while 

 a fourth, fifth, and sixth propose " an 

 immense increase of fun, anecdote, and fic- 

 tion ; " and a seventh would have it " entirely, 

 or nearly so, devoted to the drama ! " An 

 eighth, Ave may add, condemns altogether 

 the moral tone of our London Journal, 

 and advises that "all sober reflections, and 

 quotations from Shakspeare, be hereafter es- 

 chewed!" This is " rich," as well as " rare." 

 We trust, and hope, we have few such readers 

 as this worthy, bestriding us. Like the " Old 

 Man of the Sea," spoken of by Sinbad the 

 Sailor, he would ricle us to death. 



Here are a pretty set of coachmen, truly ! 

 and no doubt, if the " ribbons " were placed 

 in their hands, they would "drive" at a 

 " slapping pace." We believe it. 



We must whisper in the ears of these 

 charioteers, that ours is the "safety coach;" 

 well horsed, but carefully driven. We can 

 get over the ground at a very fair speed, 

 but we never try the gallop hard! W~e 

 dread an " upset." We are the Proprietor ! 



However, as we like to give " a reason " 

 for all we advance, let us bring under the 

 notice of these " fast " coachmen the case 

 of one Phaeton, son of Phoebus (or Apollo), 

 who coaxed his father (after dinner, no doubt), 

 to let him for one day drive the chariot of 

 the Sun. We see him now, giving his papa 

 a filial poke in the ribs : and on the cosey 

 old gentleman saying, " D-o-n-t ! " — we can 

 hear him replying, " Now, do Pa ! only for 

 ONE day ! " 



Overcome by the persuasive eloquence of 

 his boy — a " spoilt child " that, no doubt — 

 the father in an unlucky moment, swore by 

 the Styx (a fearful oath) " to grant him any 

 request he might ask." Now for the " ob- 

 ject " of this Article, on which we shall offer 

 no further comment. 



Phaeton boldly demanded permission for 

 one day, to drive his father -s chariot. Phoebus 

 represented the impropriety of such a re- 

 quest, and also the dangers to which his son 

 would be exposed. All was in vain. The 

 oath was inviolable ; Phaeton unmoved ; the 

 horses were harnessed ; and away the chariot 

 flew, at " a slapping pace ! " 



No sooner had Phoebus received "the 

 ribbons " from his father, with ample in- 

 structions for the journey, than his ignorance 

 and incapacity for the task became painfully 

 evident. The steeds were touched upon the 

 " raw," and bolted. Old Phoebus tore his hair, 

 and swooned away. Plow could he less ? 



As for Phaeton and his flying horses, they 

 were " all in a heap." The driver could 



