KIDD'S LONDON JOURNAL. 



26i 



come as a green finish at the extremity of 

 eacli branch ? But we hear the step of the 

 printer's messenger, — our warning to halt. 



The other blossoms of the pears, and, 

 loveliest of all lovely trees, — the apples, do 

 not come to perfection until May. For 

 these we can well afford to wait, seeing that 

 we have so much to rejoice in meantime. 



ORIGINAL CORRESPONDENCE. 



Noble Character of the Newfoundland Dog. — 

 No Paper could be more suitable than your 

 Journal, for the record of all that is noble in the 

 dog-. I therefore feel pleasure in sending you an 

 authenticated ancedote which has come into my 

 possession, and which I should like to see regis- 

 tered in your columns. Although it is not a 

 "novelty," it still possesses the strongest claims 

 to attention. During the American war, when 

 the animosity of our opponents was at its height, 

 Sir Charles Asgill, a British officer, was taken 

 prisoner by the Americans, on suspicion of his 

 being a spy. He was moreover guarded with the 

 utmost vigilance. A Newfoundland dog, the 

 companion of his captivity, slept constantly at the 

 foot of his bed. This had been his practice for 

 some months. One memorable night, on his 

 master retiring to rest, the dog placed himself 

 directly across his body, so that no person could 

 get access to him without his being first apprised 

 of the intrusion. Sir Charles objecting to this 

 mode of arrangement, removed the dog several 

 times; but he as often returned to his former 

 position. At length the thought struck Sir Charles, 

 that the dog might have observed something sus- 

 picious in the neighborhood of his prison; and 

 knowing that in his presumed character of a spy 

 he could expect no mercy, he composed himself 

 to rest, under his fidus Achates ; anticipating his 

 assassination in the night — a by no means uncom- 

 mon fate for people in his situation. With morn- 

 ing dawn, a deputation arrived bearing his pardon, 

 great interest in high quarters having been used 

 to obtain it. The dog's vigilance had been 

 aroused by the absence of the usual guards, and 

 by certain doors being left open, which, until that 

 evening, had always been bolted, barred, and 

 guarded. The dog was brought to England, and 

 kept by the mother of Sir Charles (Lady Asgill), 

 as a valued member of the family. After living 

 with them many years, he was eventually stolen, 

 to the great grief of his mistress and all the house- 

 hold.— Mary M. 



Habits of the Woodlark. — I have two wood- 

 larks — in separate, adjoining rooms. One simply 

 " calls " to the other, and does not yet even " re- 

 cord." The other sings, but not continuously, or 

 even well. My complaint is about his annoying 

 restlessness. Every night at 11— and not till 11 

 — he begins to get " the fidgets." He bolts up 

 and down the cage, pecks at the wires, and 

 knocks himself about, till he makes me nearly as 

 wild as himself, and awfully ill-tempered. The 

 up-shot is, lam driven from the room. My birds 

 are in cages wired both at the back and in front. 

 I want my birds to sing at night, but not to go 

 periodically mad at the approach of midnight. 



What shall I do with these birds, so as to get 

 them quiet and in song? — D. O. T., Dublin. 



[You must have patience with your birds. 

 Woodlarks have queer tempers; and, like a noisy 

 wife, they must be humored, and well-managed. 

 You can't drive them. When the weather gets 

 warm (if it ever means to do so), procure two 

 proper woodlarks' cages, made of mahogany; 

 and let the back be boarded. If the sides 

 too were boarded half way up, it would be 

 all the better ; for these birds love and court re- 

 tirement. The cages should be made on the 

 model of a skylark's cage, — only smaller. When 

 thus lodged, suspend them out of doors in a cheer- 

 ful situation, — quite out of sight of each other, 

 and almost out of hearing. This will bring them 

 into a state of repose. Cover them up when the 

 candle is introduced; for they hate shadows, and 

 grow very timid after their first sleep. They will 

 then roost quietly, and let you be quiet also. 

 They will break out into song directly the weather 

 gets warm, provided they be male birds, and they 

 will continue singing until July, Give them 

 some root-liquorice in their water, and occasion- 

 ally a meal worm. After these, if there be any 

 song in them, it will assuredly come out. Give 

 them scraped chalk, and plenty of old, bruised 

 mortar in their sand; and they will soon become 

 saucy. Their song is so delightful, that no trou- 

 ble can be too great to accelerate its development. 

 A bright, blue, clear sky, has an irresistible 

 charm that calls forth all their eloquence, — but 

 pray guard against draughts.] 



Improved Bird Cages. — You have an excellent 

 article in your Journal (p. 74) about some 

 cages, fashioned like those in the Zollverein depart- 

 ment of the late Great Exhibition. It is written 

 by a person whose initials are " J. C." Can you 

 tell me where I can procure these cages ? — 

 H. R. 



[What you refer to is at present merely a sug- 

 gestion. We marvel much at the want of in- 

 genuity in our fellow countrymen, in the matter 

 of bird cages. Any person of taste and energy, 

 who would set his wits and his hands to work, 

 might realise a very handsome fortune by the 

 manufacture of improved bird cages. Thos^ now 

 in general use are frightfully inelegant, and 

 every way unsuited to the comfort and require- 

 ments of the feathered race who are doomed to 

 imprisonment.] 



Sagacity in a Terrier. — As the sagacity of 

 dogs is always popularly interesting, the pages 

 of Kidd's Journal should record a singular trait 

 in the character of a terrier, belonging to Mr. 

 Parker, of the George Inn, in Stroud. Mr. 

 Peter Hawkins some years ago, directed my 

 attention to the dog, which, in appearance, was 

 remarkable only for his ugliness ; being in color a 

 dirty yellowish brown, bow-legged, and alto- 

 gether the shape of the old-fashioned turnspit. 

 A specimen of the genus may be seen in the 

 Queen's kennel in Windsor Park, where indeed 

 may be seen a specimen of every kind of dog. 

 Mr. Parker's dog had an inveterate taste for 

 catching rats, and that, in a mode entirely 

 unique and peculiarly his own. The stables of 

 the inn abutting on to the brook, afforded a 



