THE UNIVERSAL FAMILY PAPER FOR INTER-COMMUNICATIONS ON 



NATURAL HISTORY-POPULAR SCIENCE— THIN6S IN GENERAL, 



Conducted by WILLIAM KIDD, of Hammersmith,— 



Author of the Familiar and Popular Essays on "Natural History;" "British Song 

 Birds;" "Birds of Passage;" "Instinct and Reason;" "The Aviary," &c. 



"the OBJECT OF OUR WORK is to make men WISER, WITHOUT obliging them to turn over folios and 

 QUARTOS.— TO FURNISH MATTER FOR THINKING AS WELL AS READING."— EVELYN. 



No. 21.— 1852. 



SATURDAY, MAY 22. 



Price l%d. 



Or, in Monthly Parts, Price Id. 



THE EMANCIPATED CANARIES. 



MORE REMINISCENCES OF WELLING, KENT. 



'Midst living sounds the sunny day hath stirred. 



The dove with plaintive sound the woodland fills ; 



The cuckoo's voice is on the distant hills, — 



Telling of days to natural hearts endeared. 



Come forth, O sun ! come forth ! and thought shall bring 



Days, with this day to live, from many a spring. 



Last week, we glided gently from our 

 " teens," and felt " important." We were 

 twenty weeks old, and walked upright. To- 

 day, we have attained our majority ! We are 

 twenty-one weeks old, and feel blessed with 

 the strength of a giant. 



It was no more than natural, that we 

 should wait for the near approach of so 

 grand an event, before we fairly commenced 

 our spring visits ; for, to speak truth, our 

 heart has more than once failed us, whilst 

 trying to anticipate the happy thought of a pro- 

 longed existence. Let us, however, now hope 

 that our good friends, the public, will hence- 

 forth strengthen our hands, and, by their 

 encouragement, infuse new life into our sys- 

 tem. We- have had a desperate struggle, 

 whilst aspiring to reach the summit of a 

 high mountain ; but, with their kind aid, we 

 may yet accomplish the task which we be- 

 gan in hope, and feel reluctant to relinquish 

 in despair. That last word liketh us not, 

 we will therefore at once to the matter be- 

 fore us. 



In No. 19 of our Journal, it will be re- 

 membered, we recorded our First Visit 

 to Welling, in 1851 ; commenting upon what 

 we saw there, reporting progress, and asking 

 leave to sit again. The interest which has 

 attached to the subject, even thus early, 

 has granted us the leave we asked : and we 

 shall proceed to speak of our Second Visit 

 to Welling. 



We made choice of a day last week, most 

 favorable for the object we had in view. 

 We will not say that the easterly winds had 

 entirely departed (is it likely?), but they 

 had considerably abated. The sun shone 



out in full splendor, the azure blue of the 

 sky, seen through white towering clouds 

 which curled gracefully above our heads, 

 fell delightfully on the eye ; and gentle 

 zephyrs ever and anon refreshed our cheek 

 as they were wafted by. Rain there was 

 none, nor were there any indications of it. 

 Our equipment, therefore, was nearly as 

 light as our heart ; and we felt " happy." 

 Alas, that happiness should be the excep- 

 tion, and not the rule of our existence ! Hoav 

 is it ? But as nobody can tell us, we will not 

 pause for a reply. 



Our little company consisted of three, — 

 the late amiable associate of our " Country 

 Ramble" (see No. 18), and the duplicate of 

 our own royal person, in a fairer form. The 

 time of rendezvous was noon, — starting point, 

 the South Eastern Railway, — place of desti- 

 nation, Abbey Wood, thence visfrl by omni- 

 bus to Welling. 



" We met, — 'twas in a crowd." Busily 

 occupied among the closely-packed multi- 

 tude of people, " taking tickets," was a man 

 of singular mien and manners, whose rest- 

 lessness and peculiarity caused us to watch 

 him narrowly. This kept us occupied till 

 the train was ready to start. Let us describe 

 this man, and with a warning voice. He 

 was a tall, gaunt figure, in a coat with long 

 tails, wrapped closely round his person. 

 His bust was attenuated ; his eyes concealed 

 by goggles. His personnel] lank. In a word, 

 he was no doubt a half-starved emanation 

 from Exeter Hall — a representative of a 

 Tract society. We gathered this from his 

 making irrelevant inquiries of all around 

 him, at the same time depositing in their 

 hand a buff-colored tract. One of these 

 tracts contrived to find its way into our 

 pocket. We took it out and perused the 

 title. It was called the " Last Great 

 Exhibition, or the End of all Things." 

 Thinking it referred to the " monster " 

 handiwork of our modern Frankenstein, in 

 Hyde Park, we began to read. Frightfully 

 shocked were we, to find it one of those 



Vol. L— New Series. 



