




KIDD’S OWN JOURNAL. 

watching, day after day ; nobody to study 
his wishes, and keep all his comforts ready. 
Confound it! has not that woman got back 
from the market yet? I feel remarkably 
hungry. I don’t mind the boys being coddled 
and kissed, if my wife likes it; but there is 
no joke in having the breakfast kept back 
for an hour. 
Oh! by the way, I must remember to buy 
all those things for the children to-day. 
Christmas is close at hand, and my wife has 
made out a list of the presents she means to 
put in their stockings. More expense! and 
their school-bills coming in too!! Iremem- 
ber, before Z was married, I used to think 
what a delight it would be to educate the 
young rogues myself; but a man with a large 
family has no time for that sort of “ amuse- 
ment.” I wonder how old my young Tom 
is? Let me see, when does his birthday 
come? Next month; andasI ama Chris- 
tian, he will then be fourteen. Boys of four- 
teen consider themselves all but men now-a- 
days; and Tom is quite of that mind, I see. 
Nothing will suit his exquisite feeling but 
Wellington boots, at thirty shillings a pair, 
and his mother has been throwing out hints 
for some time as to the propriety of getting 
a watch for him—gold, of course! Silver 
was quite good enough for me when I was 
half a score years older than he is; but times 
are fearfully changed since my younger days. 
Then I believe the young villain has 
learned to play billiards; and three or four 
times lately, when he has come in late at 
night, his clothes seemed strongly perfumed 
with cigar smoke. Heigho! fathers have 
many troubles, and I cannot help thinking 
sometimes that old bachelors are not such 
wonderful fools after all. They go to their 
pillows at night, with no cares on their minds 
to keep them awake, and when once they 
have got to sleep, nothing comes to disturb 
their repose—nothing short of the house be- 
ing on fire can reachtheir peaceful condition. 
No getting up in the cold to walk up and 
down the room for an hour or two witha 
young squeaking varlet, as my luck has 
been for the last five or six weeks. 
It is an astonishing thing to perceive what 
a passion our little Louisa has for crying ; so 
sure as the clock strikes three, she begins, and 
there is no getting her quiet again until she 
has fairly exhausted the strength of her 
lungs with straightforward screaming. I 
can’t for the life of me understand why the 
young villains don’t get through all their 
squalling and roaring in the day time, when 
I am out of the way. 
Then, again, what a delightful pleasure it 
is to be roused out of one’s first nap, and 
sent off post-haste for the doctor—as J was 
on Monday night, when my wife thought that 



Sarah had got the croup, and frightened me 
half out of my wits, with her lamentations 
and fidgets. By the way, there’s the doctor’s 
bill to be paid soon; his collector always 
pays me a visit before Christmas. Brother 
Tom has no doctors to fee, and that cer- 
tainly is a great comfort. 
Bless my soul! how the time slips away ; 
past nine o’clock, and no breakfast yet! ! 
Wife fondling with Dick, and getting the 
three girls and their two brothers ready for 
school. Nobody thinks of me all this time. 
What the plague has become of my news- 
paper, I wonder? That young rascal, Tom, 
has carried it off, I dare say, to readin the 
school, when he ought to be poring over his 
books! He’s a great torment, that boy. But, 
no matter; there’s a great deal of pleasure 
in married life, and if some vexations and 
troubles do come with its delights, grambling 
must be put away. 
Nevertheless, BRoTHER Tom, all things 
considered, HAS DONE QUITE RIGHT. He 
certainly zs a “long-sighted ” man! 
FORTITUDE AND LOVE.. 
BY ELIZA COOK. 

Let me live without Fortune, if Providence will it,. 
For Joy can be found where small treasure is 
shed ; 
Those who bear a full cup are most fearful to. 
spill it, 
And oftentimes walk with the narrowest tread. 
I care not though Fate may deny me profusion, 
If earth will but show me some rays from above; 
Tell me not that God’s light is a dreamy illusion— 
I could live without Fortune, but not without 
Love! 
Oh! ’tis pleasant to know there are beings 
about us 
Who tune the most exquisite strings in our 
heart ; 
To feel that they would not be happy without us, 
And that we, in our loneliness, sigh when we 
part. 
Oh! there’s something divine in the thought that 
we cherish 
A star-beam within us, that shines from above— 
To know, that if all the world gives us should 
perish, 
The greatest of Fortune still dwells in our love ! 
Oh! ’tis glory to feel that we live for some others, 
That self is not all we depend on below ; 
That affection yet links us to sisters and brothers, 
Whose faith will be constant, come weal or 
come woe. 
Though the vulture of trouble may harass our 
bosom, 
Ne’er fear while our spirit is fed by the dove ; 
Let the desert of Life give Eternity’s blossom, 
And we'll live without Fortune, while favored 
by Love! 



