
KIDD’S OWN JOURNAL. 


15 

for the friction was exceedingly mechanical. 
Keeners throw about their arms, and enjoin 
all people to sorrow for the dead. 
One female observed this scene ;, but let 
us hope with eyes more lucid. This was a 
young lady, attracted thither perhaps more 
from curiosity than anything else. She was 
a great acquisition to this effective picture. 
She was dressed in gipsy fashion—tall, with 
intelligent and large dark-flashing eyes. With 
calm interest, did she appear to look on; 
and marvel why the dead should be con- 
signed to the tomb thus im the last obsequies. 
Report says that our beloved Queen during 
the latter part of the present season, will 
visit the Killarney Lakes. Let us hope 
that the Kerry peasantry will look upon 
their sovereign and love her; and that the 
gracious visit may cast a light upon their 
countenances, which light may be cherished 
in the hearts of many, many of the Irish 
people! 
C. W. R. 
Mallow, near Cork, 
June 14. 
“ONE GLASS MORE!” 

Stay, mortal, stay! nor heedless thus 
Thy sure destruction seal ! 
Within that cup there lurks a curse, 
Which all who drink shall feel. 
Disease and death for ever nigh, 
Stand ready at the door, 
And eager wait to hear the cry 
Of “Give me one glass more!” 
Lo! view that prison’s gloomy cells, 
Their pallid tenants scan ; 
Gaze, gaze upon these earthly hells, 
And ask what this began ? 
Had these a tongue, oh! man, thy cheek 
The tale would crimson o’er ; 
Had these a tongue, they’d to thee speak, 
And answer—‘“ One glass more!” 
Behold the wretched female form, 
An outcast from her home, 
Bleached by afiliction’s biting storm, 
And doomed in want to roam ; 
Behold her! ask that prattler dear 
“ Why mother is so poor?” 
He'll whisper in thy startled ear, 
“Twas father’s one glass more.” 
Stay, mortal, stay! repent, return ! 
Reflect upon thy fate ; 
The poisonous draught indignant spurn, 
Reject it, ere too late ! 
Oh! fly the venom, burst the chain ; 
Nor linger at the door,— 
Lest thou, perchance, shouldst sip again 
THE TREACH’ROUS “ONE GLASS MORE.” 
A Warnine Voice. 
THE CHARMS OF EXCITEMENT. 

THOSE WHO HAVE BEEN YOUNG, and 
those who are young (especially if fond of 
angling and other exciting sports), will 
readily enter into the spirit of the following 
extracts, copied from “ Bonar’s Hunting Ex- 
cursion in the Mountains of Bavaria.” It is 
a vivid picture of— 
A MOUNTAIN CHASE. 
Such a place as that where I was watch- 
ing is my delight—is the delight mdeed, of 
every hunter; for from it I could have 
seen the game, had any come, long before 
it reached me. And this is always pleasant ; 
not only because it gives you time for prepa- 
ration, but on account of the delicious ex- 
citement you feel in every vein, from the moment 
you espy the coming creature, till that other 
moment when you feel it is your own. Your 
hopes, your fears, your longings—all that makes 
up the sum of the enjoyment, is thus heightened 
by being prolonged. You watch its approach 
with greedy eyes, and full of anxieties ; the ex- 
citement would choke youif it lasted long ; yet 
two such minutes—and they seem hours—are 
worth whole ordinary days. 
The flutter and nervousness felt by him 
whose whole heart is in the chase, when he first 
is in presence of the stag, is a curious psycholo- 
gical phenomenon. The Germans have a special 
name for this state, and call it ‘‘ Hirsch Fieber” 
(Stag Fever). The excitement you are in quite 
lames you. Of course it varies in degree with 
different persons, according to temperament, and 
the phlegmatic will probably never experience it 
at all. 
In me it showed itself in the highest degree. 
When I heard the rush of the stag among the 
branches, or saw him approaching at a distance, 
my heart began to beat audibly; my breath came 
quickly, every limb trembled, and I felt half 
suffocated. ‘To take a deliberate aim was of 
course impossible, for my rifle rose and fell like 
a bough swayed by the wind. But I remember 
one instance in which a sort of magnetic in- 
fluence seemed to be exercised over me. I was 
waiting for a stag on the edge of the covert. 
Presently I heard something rustle, and the fever 
began; but only a kid leaped by, and I-was calm 
again. Soon after Iheard the step of the stag, 
and in another second his majestic head looked 
forth from the green branches. 
On he came towards me, down a gentle slope ; 
slowly, and unaware of my presence. ‘The rifle 
had been raised when first 1 heard his approach, 
and it was levelled still ; the hair-trigger was set, 
and a breath almost would have been sufficient to 
move the trigger; my finger too was upon it, 
and I wished to pull, yet from some cause or other 
I was unable to do so. There I stood; the mag- 
nificent stag opposite me, and I charm-struck and 
spell-bound. The slightest movement of the finger 
would have been enough, but I could not move it ; 
and only when he had disappeared did my fast- 
clinched teeth relax, and I drew a long breath, 
and felt myself relieved. 
Since then, I have understood the power of the 
snake over other animals ; how by fixing its eyes 

