KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 



359 



but anxiously waiting outside for their turn 

 to enter and pay money with their adver- 

 tisements, we have made it a rule, as oppor- 

 tunity offered, pour passer le temps, to get 

 into conversation with some of these people, 

 and sound them about their recognisedj9rm- 

 ciple of advertising ; and more particularly as 

 to the effects derivable from it, as experienced 

 by themselves. 



The answer we have invariably received, 

 has for ever settled the question as to why 

 u The Times " is so immensely popular. 

 Our informants appeared to disdain the idea 

 of advertising in any other paper; saying "it 

 was quite useless — money thrown away — as 

 nobody read any Paper but the Times, 

 which circulated all over the world." They 

 added, — u Why, Sir, one advertisement in the 

 ' Times ' is worth a dozen inserted anywhere 

 else. We always find it so." 



Judging from the time we have ourselves 

 had to wait, ere our turn arrived, we are in- 

 duced to attach all due weight to that which 

 was so generally stated, and in which our own 

 belief is firm.* " We listened to the sound ;" 

 and as we heard the money roll into the 

 treasury, heap upon heap, sovereign after 

 sovereign, note upon note, — -" the cry still 

 they come," — we confess we thought with 

 disdain upon California, its diggings, and all 

 its treasures. Never before was money 

 coined so fast. Never was business trans- 

 acted so quietly. Never were countenances 

 more happy when parting from their " loose 

 cash." Never were hopeful anticipations of 

 success more visibly painted on the human 

 face. Never did anything appear to us so like 

 a dream ! Ah ! thought we, how pregnant 

 with joy and sorrow, hope and fear, gladness 

 and despair, is the broad- sheet which will 

 issue hence to-morrow ! How many minds 

 hang in doubt upon the " hazard of the die" 

 just cast, — perhaps for the last time ! All 

 arising from An Advertisement in " The 

 Times." 



* Some time since, we advertised in two of the 

 Morning Papers, for Translators ; the applications 

 in answer were about a dozen. Subsequently, 

 we made known a similar want in the " Times." 

 The consequence was fearful: we received as 

 many replies as would have filled a wheelbarrow ! 

 —Ed. K. J. 



The Death Watch. 



^ Though natural history long ago declared 

 that these sounds proceed from a little harmless 

 insect, hundreds of believers still exist who 

 refuse to be persuaded that the noise is not 

 prophetic of the charnel-house ! Even those who 

 have been brought to credit the fact of the tick- 

 ing being made by an insect, are reluctant all at 

 once to abandon a gloomy notion, and therefore 

 affirm that the sound is still significant of 



death; for, say they, it comes from a spider in 

 the act of dying ; and when the ticks cease, the 

 creature is dead. Many intelligent persons are 

 aware that this latter opinion is equally erro- 

 neous with the former ; but, as others may lack 

 such correct information, it might not be alto- 

 gether superfluous to state, that the insect in 

 question is not a spider, but " the pediculus of 

 old wood, a species of termes belonging to the 

 order aptera in the Linnsean system." It is very 

 diminutive. There are two kinds of death 

 watches. One is very different in appearance 

 from the other. The former only beats seven or 

 eight quick strokes at a time ; the latter will beat 

 some hours together more deliberately and 

 without ceasing. This ticking, instead of having 

 anything to do with death, is a joyous sound, 

 and as harmless as the cooing of a dove. It is 

 to be regretted that science, to which we owe so 

 many blessings — so much of health, both bodily 

 and mental — should have made an inconsiderate 

 compromise with superstition, by naming this 

 lively and harmless little creature mortisaga. 



THE FIG TBEE. 



This is the first particular object of natural 

 history mentioned in the Bible,— and of which 

 Milton says : — 



So both together went 

 Into the thickest wood. There soon they chose 

 The fig-tree, not that kind for fruit renowned, 

 But such as at this day to Indians known, 

 In Malabar or Decan spreads her arms, 

 Branching so broad and long that in tbe ground 

 The bended twigs take root, and daughters grow 

 About the mother tree, a pillared shade 

 High over-arched, and echoing walks between. 

 There, oft the Indian herdsman, shunning heat, 

 Shelters in cool, and tends his pasturing herds 

 At loopholes cut through thickest shade : those leaves 

 They gathered, broad as Amazonian targe, 

 And with what skill they had, together sewed 

 To gird their waist ; vain covering, if to hide 

 Their guilt and dreaded shame. Oh, how unlike 

 To that first naked glory ! 



So Milton erred ; for the leaves of the banian 

 tree are so far from being of the size of an 

 Amazonian targe, that they seldom or never 

 exceed five inches in length, and three in breadth. 

 Others have with more probability suggested the 

 banana tree, whose fruit is often, by the ancients, 

 called a fig, and whose leaves are often six feet 

 long and two broad; thin, smooth, and very 

 flexible. The practice of sewing or pinning 

 leaves together, is common in the East to this 

 day, for baskets, dishes, and umbrellas. 



The fig-tree of Palestine affords a friendly 

 shade. Hasselquest, in his journey from Nazareth 

 to Tiberias, says, " We refreshed ourselves under 

 the shade of a fig tree, below which was a well, 

 where a shepherd and his flock had their ren- 

 dezvous ; but without either house or hut." " The 

 withered fig-tree" (Mark xi. 13), which was the 

 symbol of Judah, has been supposed to be the 

 Ficus Sycamorus, which is always green, and 

 bears fruit several times in the year, without 

 observing any certain seasons: and therefore 

 might well be supposed to have fruit on it, while 

 it was not now the general season for gathering- 

 figs from the kinds usually cultivated. 



