30 
KIDD’S OWN JOURNAL. 

stock of fun.” This we know to be a fact. 
They are solid bores. As much fun as you 
please with the others, but let the mopers, 
we say, stay at home. We hate to see 
these people sickening up, and slinking off, 
(as they always do,) into corners, when they 
ought to be “jolly.” Smiles and tears al- 
ternate in this world of ours. So let them 
be merry while they may. Smile now, and 
ery by-and-by. There will be lots of op- 
portunities. A-hem! 
A pic-nic party may consist of one 
dozen; two, three, four, or five dozen 
people—the more the merrier; and the ex- 
penses, when divided, will be proportionally 
less. Let there bean endless number of jet- 
black lustrous orbs ; finely-arched foreheads 
by the score; dark eyebrows (“lash”-ing us | 
well); swan-like necks; Madonna frontis-- 
pieces ; and joyous, merry voices ; romps not 
a few, hoydens unlimited, and as many 
nimble feet and cherry cheeks as memory 
can call together. 
the agreeable, gentlemanly swains that 
yourselves, your friends, and your acquain- 
tance can muster up—young and middle- 
aged. Let there be no “drawbacks” or 
‘stumbling stones” invited, nor any persons 
of known jealous dispositions. Out with 
these, one and. all, as leprous plague-spots— 
dangerous to themselves, and spreading in- 
fection dire on all around them. What! jea- 
lousy or suspicion at a pic-nic party! Fie! 
Fie!! Out with the offender sans ceremonie. 
Hanging were far too lenient a punishment 
for such an unpardonable offence. 
If the uninitiated should ask—what are 
they to do on such occasions ?—we answer, 
do as honest old Naiure prompts; seek friends 
among the party, unbend your mind, and 
give a loose to harmless, innocent mirth. 
Many “pretty little things” will be sung 
and said. Some you will sing, some you will 
say. In turn, some “ pretty little things” 
will be said to you. You will laugh, of 
course; why should you not? You cannot 
help it! No rules can be laid down for 
what to say, or how to say it. The art of 
success lies— 
In that continuous sweetness, which with ease 
Pleases all round it, from the wish to please. 
On occasions such as these we are cele- 
brating, Nature is her own instructor. Her 
children very rarely offend ; and if a “black 
sheep” showld creep in, “his mark,” rely 
upon it, would be indelible,—burnt in! We 
are, of course, writing about people who are 
A 1. in matters of propriety, respectability, 
gentleness, and goodness. 
Well; let us now take it for granted that 
the party is organised, and that the happy 
place of rendezvous is appointed. ‘This may 
be either Epping Forest, Penge Wood, Nor- 
To meet these, ivite all | 


wood, Petersham, Bushy Park, or other such 
favored localities.* Of course all will not 
depart together. There will bean influx from 
all parts of the country ; pouring in, and meet- 
ing at one spot,—some in cabs, some in “ dog- 
carts,’ some by boat, some by omnibus, 
some on horseback. All and each will be 
there—some by hook, and others by crook. 
We will not dwell on the hearty welcome, 
and merry salutations that fall on the ear of 
each happy “arrival.” He or she will be 
“at home” in an instant. This sort of 
free-masonry is peculiar to pic-nic parties. 
Let us now introduce some _ half-dozen 
ASLETISKS fh ge we ee ee nea 
be it known, are to signify the arrival of a 
large van, which has contained a most remark- 
able selection of good things,—all packed in 
hampers, boxes, tureens, and an endless 
variety of baskets. | We plead guilty to 
having peeped into the recesses of these 
paraphernalia, and also to having ‘“ assisted ” 
in the unpacking. We should indeed be 
frightened to attempt a cutalogue raisonnée 
of their contents. We may hint, however 
(distantly), at hams, fowls, eapons, pullets, 
chickens, lamb, boiled beef, roast beef, 
tongues, sauces, pickles, cucumbers, lettuces, 
mysterious-looking pdtes,—beneath whose 
savory crust lay hid some indescribable deli- 
cacies; pigeons, &c. &c. &c. As for the 
larger hampers, well stored with fruits of all 
kinds, ices, jellies, and curious wines,—we 
must ‘‘say ” little about these. The remem- 

* Connected with Pic-nics, we may here mention 
alittle anecdote. Some four years since, we were in 
Paris,—domiciled, pro tem., at an extensive hotel, 
near the Madeleine. During our sojourn there,we 
saw many new faces at the table d’ hote daily. 
Among them, one happy day, two new faces pre- 
sented themselves. With these (they were on the 
opposite side of the table), we fell in love at once. 
One of these faces belonged to a lovely maiden, 
with auburn ringlets; the other was owned by her 
equally fascinatng mamma. They were both 
English. We hardly need say how soon we were 
all “‘athome.” The ringing, happy, joyous laugh 
of ‘‘mamma’s own child,’ soon reduced the dis- 
tance between us. We all returned to England 
together; and, though before perfect strangers, we 
were soon registered as “one of the family.” This 
wasin August. Our remarkable acquaintance pro- 
gressed. A grand pic-nic party was projected—some 
sixty at least were mustered—choice spivits ! and in 
Epping Forest was laid the great scene of action. 
This may have assisted us in our remarks to-day. 
Let us, however, be precise upon all points. The 
heart of that young lady with auburn ringlets is not 
ours now. It has passed into other hands. We 
merely watched over it for the time being, A 
faithful watchman were we! We still, however, 
lay friendly claim to listen to the joyous, ringing 
laugh, that once made us so happy ; and when we 
hear it ‘at home,” in the family hall, we rejoice. 
May that heart never know sorrow,—and may the 
owner of it be as happy as he deserves to be! 


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