392 



KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 



TO CORRESPONDENTS. 



Phrenology for the Million -will be continued in our 

 next. 



Communications Received. — ,T. G. in our next. — T. IT. 

 If you read our "Treatise on the Canary," you will 

 there find express directions given for the choice of a 

 male bird. The action of the throat, and the live- 

 liness of the bird must direct you, as you are unfortu- 

 nately deaf. Feed your birds as directed in the above 

 " Treatise," which has appeared in this Journal. — 

 Fedelta. You will receive a letter by post. — W. A. A. 

 Thanks, very acceptable. — M. L. A. You should not 

 have fed your young canaries on seed, so soon : no 

 wonder they all died ! — A London Footman. Keep 

 your goldfinch till next year. Your old canaries are use- 

 less to breed from. P ead our " Treatise on the Canary ;" 

 in which will be found all you inquire about. — A. Z. 

 Many thanks. 



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. 



Private Letters. — Of these we daily receive such 

 immense quantities, that we must really beg the 

 writers to excuse our not replying to them ; our time 

 being overwhelmingly occupied with Public duties. 



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 0¥H JOTJBNAL. 



Saturday, June 19, 1352. 



WE HAVE TAKEN SPECIAL CARE not 



to let tlie season get too far advanced, before 

 we paid a visit to Bushey Park, where grow 

 the " chestnut trees" of immortal memory. 

 What multitudes flock to see these stately 

 trees when in full flower ! They are right. 

 No work of art can vie with them. 



We chose a day, last week, when the wind 

 was lulled ; and the sun partially hidden by 

 fleecy clouds. Never did we gaze upon a 

 more lovely sight than was presented by the 

 vista extending along the entire avenue, as 

 we entered the park-gates. We may have 

 seen some of the cones larger, but never more 

 profuse, nor more elegantly arranged in their 

 respective ascending tiers. 



We trust our readers have also availed 

 themselves of an opportunity to see this same 

 goodly sight. If not, it is now too late. All 

 attempts at description would fail signally. 



Whilst in this most picturesque neigh- 

 borhood, we hardly need say that our ram- 

 ble extended far and wide. Kingston, Sur- 

 biton, Ewell and the parts adjacent, and 

 many a peep at the lovely river scenery,— 

 all amply repaid us for a little bodily fatigue. 

 We hold these beautiful localities in high 

 reverence; and shall never forget the music 

 of the feathered tribes who hold their court 

 here. No fear have they of bird-catchers ! 



We are now beginning to feel, almost for 

 the first time, some of the sun's heat ; and 

 we are gradually dispensing with the cheer- 



ful fire on our hearth, which, until now, has 

 really been a necessary companion for our 

 comfort. What a remarkable climate this 

 is ! But let us step into the garden, and see 

 what is doing there. 



The roses are now daily coming into blos- 

 som, and diffusing their charming odors all 

 around. So many varieties have we now, 

 that we can hardly find space to particularise 

 them. What can be more enchanting, says 

 one of our amateur rose-fanciers, than the 

 newly-opened rose of Provence, looking up- 

 ward, half shamefacedly, from its fragile 

 stem, as if just awakened from a happy 

 dream to a happier reality ? 



It is the loveliest Rose we have, and the 

 sweetest, — except the Rose-unique, which 

 looks like the image of the other cut in mar- 

 ble ; the statue of the Venus de Medicis be- 

 side the living beauty that stood as its model. 

 We must yet make another exception, in 

 favor of the White Blush Rose, rising in the 

 centre of the group. It looks like the mar- 

 ble image of the two former, — just as the 

 enamored gaze of its Pygmalion has warmed 

 it into life. See how its delicate lips are just 

 becoming tinged with the hues of vitality ! 

 It breathes already, as all the air in its vicinity 

 bears witness. 



And what of the Moss Rose ? We must 

 make yet another exception in its favor. 

 Flauntingly does it hang beside its blushing 

 neighbor, — seemingly the most careless, but 

 in reality the most coquettish of court beau- 

 ties. Apparently the sport of every coxcomb 

 Zephyr that passes, she is in truth indifferent 

 to all but her own sweet self; and if more 

 modest in her attire than all other of her 

 frail sisterhood, yet does she only adopt this 

 particular mode because it makes her look 

 more pretty and figurative. Her " close fit 

 cap of green,' 1 the fashion of which she never 

 changes (because she knows what becomes 

 her best), ought to teach some of our ladies 

 a salutary lesson. Our English fashions, 

 alas ! are never " becoming;" for they inva- 

 riably disguise what God himself made exqui- 

 sitely beautiful. 



But we must stop our gossip about the 

 flowers of the garden, to which there would 

 be no end, — nor must we to-day wander with 

 our readers into the fields among the sweet 

 clover and the wild flowers, now in all their 

 beauty. Let us however " hint" at them 

 with a winning voice ; and recommend an 

 early visit to their sequestered haunts, for 

 now — 



Sweet are the fanning breezes felt, 



Breathed through the dancing boughs; 



Sweet do the rural noises melt 

 From distant sheep and cows. 



The lovely green of wood and hill, 

 The hurumings in the air, 



Serenely in the breast instil 

 The rapture reigning there. 



