
KIDD’S OWN JOURNAL. 
63° 

people who love flowers, and who take pleasure in 
beholding the works of Nature, cannot be _hard- 
hearted. We sincerely hope that the ‘‘ good time 
is coming,” when fine feelings will not be arrogated 
by any particular class of society, but be common 
to all.] 

A Word for “the Poor Ass.”—Just now, my 
dear Sir, when countless thousands are poured 
out to enjoy themselves, all over the country, let 
me put ina word for that most ill-used animal, the 
donkey. Whilst I am writing, scores of these 
poor, wretched animals, are suffering a martyrdom 
at Gravesend, Margate, Hampstead, &c. Bent 
nearly double by blows from a bludgeon, to gratify, 
I am sorry to say, the penchant of well-dressed 
women and girls, who consider it “‘ good fun” to 
see the animals wince—they lead a life of all but 
unceasing torture. The subjoined, by your own 
favorite poet, Clare, will just now be quite “in 
season.” May it have some effect !— 
Look at that ill-used Ass! 
Poor patient creature! how I grieve to see 
Thy wants so ill-supplied—to see thee strain 
And stretch thy tether for the grass in vain, 
Which Heaven’s rain nourishes for all but thee. 
The fair green field, the fulness of the plain, 
Add to thy hunger. Colt and heifer pass, 
And roll, as though they mocked thee on the grass, 
Which would be luxury to the bare brown lane 
Where thou’rt imprisoned—humble, patient Ass ! 
Cropping foul weeds, yet scorning to complain. 
Mercy at first “‘ sent out the wild ass free,” 
A ranger “ ofthe mountains ; ” and what crimes 
Did thy progenitors, that thou should’st be 
THE SLAVE AND MOCKERY OF LATER TIMES ? 
That must be a hard heart, which could look 
quietly on, and never use one word of remon- 
strance whilst witnessing the heavy blows which 
daily fall on these poor animals !—Puss. 
[We gladly insert your remarks, Puss-y, which 
do you honor; and we sincerely hope they will 
effect some good.] 
Umbrellas and Sticks —Well done, Mr. Editor! 
That article of yours, upon ‘Ladies and their 
Parasols,” was capital. It came home so to every 
body’s observation ! It has been ‘copied into nearly 
every newspaper in the provinces. But why do 
you not have a rap at the old fellows and young 
fellows, who go about flourishing their umbrellas 
and sticks in the public streets? Placed under 
their left arm, and projecting fearfully behind 
(whilst their owners stand atthis season lounging 
at the corners of our public streets), these instru- 
ments scatter danger far and near. Nor are they 
less dangerous when introduced in omnibuses ; 
for they fly off at a tangent from one end of the 
vehicle to the other, to deal out a blow on the 
conductor’s arm—punishing, im transitu, the nose 
or cheek of whoever may happen to sit out of the 
even line. Our rising youth, and our peripa- 
tetic old fogeys, deserve chastisement quite as 
much as our “flourishing women.” I wish 
parasols, umbrellas, and sticks, were contraband. 
At all events, it is no more than right that people 
who use them should be well “ drilled” before 
being let loose upon the public. To escape muti- 
lation, it is requisite (as you say), whilst travel- 
ling in a public vehicle, to cover your face with 
% 

both hands. A scratched face, I hardly need tell 
you, often leads to very unjust suspicions,—A 
FeL.Low SUFFERER. 

Table-moving, Table-turning &c.—In connec- 
tion with this silly tom-foolery, in which all kinds 
of men have taken a prominent part, I send you 
some curious remarks that appear in the Lea- 
der, a paper which very properly demolishes all 
the crazy theories of the day, as they arise. 
““'Table-moving,” says the Editor, “is still active, 
though Faraday’s authority has cowed the ma- 
jority. No delusion can fairly be dissipated, so 
long as people ‘believe what they see,’ and 
‘fancy ’ they see, when in truth they infer. We 
were much amused last week by this example 
of ‘evidence of the senses.’ Walking down the 
Strand in company with a friend, we were both 
surprised at seeing ina bookseller’s window Bleak 
House lying open in the unmistakeable shape of 
a thick octavo volume, Our knowledge that 
Bleak House was not yet complete, and therefore 
could only be seen in numbers, not in volumes, 
made us doubt the evidence of our senses. We 
looked again and again. There was the volume 
evident enough, unmistakeable! What could it 
be? Itturned out to be the last number of that 
work laid open on an octavo volume; but so nicely 
adjusted, that the two seemed one! We both 
laughed at this deception of the senses, and agreed 
that had not our previous knowledge corrected 
the report of the senses, we should have been will- 
ing to swear we had seen in a bookseller’s window 
Bleak House bound in one volume. Had we said 
so to any one, knowing that such a thing was 
unlikely, should we not have considered him hyper- 
critical in replying, ‘No, my friends, you saw 
nothing of the kind ; but from certain impressions 
made upon your retina, you inferred that a volume 
of Bleak House was before you?’”—Just so are we 
deceived by a conjuror, orjuggler. Monsieur Robin 
did things far more wonderful than this turning 
ofthe tables. So great is the power (as you have 
before observed) of“ the imagination !”’—Lynx. 
[What with Table-moving and Spirit-rapping, 
we bid fair to rival America in insanity and _folly.. 
We have lately been to a Spirit-rapping Soirée. 
The lady medium however (a woman of a superior 
presence), was so polite to us, that we really shall 
not attempt to run her down: and as she made 
no “ charge,” we shall simply continue to laugh 
on. Jt1s a clever trick to see once.| 

“ Our Journal” and the Booksellers.—It is to 
be regretted, my dear sir, that you cannot pre- 
vail upon the country booksellers to keep (even 
though it were never so small) a supply of our 
Journat on their shelves. If six copies be re- 
quired by “subscribers,” they procure six from 
London, and no more ; so that it is in vain to try 
to procure either an extra monthly part, or a 
halfyearly volume. They do say—‘ they will 
get it.” But this involves very much delay. 
Can you not appoint “ agents” in the principal 
towns of England ?—Joun L., Manchester. 
[‘‘ Agents,” sir, are worse than useless. We 
have tried the system, and it has failed signally. 
Instead of receiving benefit from them, they do 
us—-strange as it may appear—far more harm 
than good. Besides, they will never come to any 


