366 



KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 



vinced in my own mind of the impossibility 

 of it), and having a number of canaries em- 

 ployed in the various stages of rearing their 

 young, I put an egg into my warm hand, and 

 taking the young one in my other, hastened 

 home. I immediately placed the latter under 

 a hen which had hatched that morning, and 

 the egg under one expected to hatch in a day 

 or two. The young one seemed quite lively 

 when put into the nest, but died in the course 

 of the day. The egg hatched, and the young 

 bird lived ten or twelve hours, which proved 

 that the canary must have fed it with the rest 

 of her brood. Her food, consisting of a mixture 

 of seed with the egg and bread, did not suit 

 its little stomach so well as the insects with 

 which its own mother would have supplied 

 it, and on which its two more fortunate 

 brethren in the nest thrived." — We think, 

 after this, our admirers will put no more such 

 silly questions.] 



Art, — and its Origin. 



The humblest work of nature, as well as the 

 most perfect work of art, are alike exalted by 

 tracing them to their divine original. We are 

 struck with an admiration almost amounting to 

 awe, when we gaze on a noble building, a fine 

 statue, or a grand painting ; and feel a pride in 

 our species when we term them " the noblest 

 productions of human art." But such objects 

 have a still more hallowing effect, if we suffer 

 them to raise our thoughts to Him who made the 

 artist, and benevolently endowed him with facul- 

 ties of which the exercise can bestow such pure 

 delight, not only on his contemporaries, but on 

 a long succession of generations, — for celebrated 

 statues are almost immortal. 



"TRYING IT ON;" OS, THE MIS-FIT. 



BY MISS EMILY DUNBROWN, 



Why should not unmarried men 

 be distinguished from the less interesting 

 portion of their sex, by some designation 

 equivalent to that usual among us ? Why 

 are they always Mr., while we change from 

 Miss to Mrs.? Many distressing mistakes 

 would be obviated if this were arranged — 

 much useless expenditure of time and money 

 saved. 



All mothers of daughters are aware of the 

 awkwardness to which they are at present 

 liable, from finding themselves occasionally 

 necessitated, either to remain in ignorance 

 whether a new male acquaintance be mar- 

 ried or not, or else expose themselves to a 

 supposition of all others the most to be 

 avoided — namely, that of any anxiety what- 

 soever on the point. I know such embar- 

 rassments do not very often occur ; and yet 

 there are occasions, when you are left to 



" follow a trail " so indistinct, that it might 

 baffle the most experienced Indian, or Eng- 

 lish, husband-hunter. 



Some time since, Mr. Editor, I was travel- 

 ling through the south of Italy, — for my 

 health, as mamma told papa, but in reality 

 to run down game which we had started in 

 Switzerland, but which afterwards escaped 

 us. I did not think it a very promising 

 affair for my own part ; but mamma said 

 she was sure of success, and I knew she had 

 never failed with any of my elder sisters. 

 The man had not been very uncivil to me 

 during an intimacy of some months, and this 

 gave me high spirits ; and so on we scam- 

 pered over hills and down valleys. Papa 

 sometimes wanted to stop to see the curio- 

 sities ; but mamma would not hear of it, 

 averring it was as much as my life was 

 worth, to defer for a day my journey to a 

 warm climate ; and I used to cough when- 

 ever papa awoke in the carriage, to corrobo- 

 rate mamma's account of the delicate state 

 of my chest. 



We flew through Italy; and were I a 

 sentimental young lady, I should doubtless 

 give (what the Editor of Kidd's own 

 Journal would highly prize) a charming 

 account of the glories of nature, and of art, 

 which we passed on our journey ; but I can- 

 didly admit / could never see any good in a 

 country walk or drive, but that it might 

 afford opportunity for " a declaration." [Oh, 

 fie ! Miss Dunbrown !] 



I have been well brought up by a sensible 

 mamma, and shall not discredit her lessons. 

 I like the observation of the Frenchman to 

 his pastoral friend, in ecstasies over a flock 

 of sheep browsing at a distance — " perhaps, 

 out of the whole, there is not one tender." 

 I want to know the real utility of being 

 romantic. 



I cannot fall in love with the marble 

 Apollo, nor any of his set. I had rather see 

 a living man, with a well- cut coat on his back, 

 and a pair of trousers, the most in fashion, 

 on his limbs. So I shall only say we reached 

 Naples. Mr. W. had just left the town, 

 no one could tell us for what destination. 

 We sent scouts abroad, in various directions, 

 and while awaiting their reports, I had another 

 good opportunity for sonnet-writing — and 

 sonnets I certainly should have indited, had 

 I the slightest notion they could have as- 

 sisted me in getting married. But I recol- 

 lected, that even Sappho, in despair of finding 

 a husband, drowned herself — and I thought 

 there might now be as many Phaons to be 

 met with as then. 



Our scouts returned without any tidings 

 of the run -away. Mamma declared her in- 

 tention of striking into the Abruzzi. Papa 

 expostulated with her upon the danger of 

 venturing into a country over-run with ban- 



