
188 
KIDD’S OWN JOURNAL. 

liquid from their mouths, with a report as if they 
had burst. If flung again into the water, however 
wounded, they instantly swim about and begin 
eating ; and should one be a little less active than 
his fellows, they forthwith attack and eat him up. 
Even my poor little harmless friends, the crabs, 
become their victims; when these usually well 
armed troops have just got their soft new coats on, 
and are almost defenceless, then come the cowardly, 
ravenous toad-fish, and make terrible onslaughts 
among them—an attention, which I believe, the 
crabs eventually repay with interest.” — Puss. 
Cure for Tender Feet.—As you appear, my 
dear Sir, to know everything, do tell me (if you 
can) how I shall get relief for tender feet. I can- 
not walk out without unceasing pain ; anda leather 
shoe, or boot, is insupportable, if I have to walk 
any distance. The pain extends along one side of 
my foot; and any undue pressure causes me great 
agony-—R. T. 
[You have been suffering the penalty, Miss Re- 
becca, inflicted on the wearers of tight boots and 
shoes—hoping, perhaps, to secure thereby a pretty 
foot. Renounce this ‘ great mistake,’’ mademoi- 
selle; and pay a visit to Mr. Hall, 974, Regent’s 
Quadrant. Tell him what you have told us, and 
he will give you speedy relief. The newly-invented 
cloth for tender feet ought to be better known than 
it is.] 
Variegated Leaves.—It is generally admitted, 
and physiologists have contributed to strengthen 
the opinion, that the variegation of leaves is the 
result of some disease in the plant, which presents 
that modification. It is not our intention, says 
Mr. Carriére in the Revue Horticole, to investigate 
whether the above opinion is well-founded or not ; 
but as some plants are all constantly variegated, 
and as others have on the same bough some leaves 
variegated and others not at all, we think the 
question naturally arises what conditions are 
necessary in order that the variegation of a plant 
may become permanent. Now, observations up 
to the present time have shown, that when the 
edges of the leaves are variegated, or in other 
words, when the variegation is marginal, it is 
usually permanent, but when it is spread over the 
surface of the leaf, or if it takes the form of 
blotches, it is nearly always variable. The 
blotches may cover nearly the whole of the leaf, 
but they may likewise entirely disappear, as is the 
case with the Holly, Ivy, and Euonymus when 
they grow luxuriantly. Only one plant, the 
Aucuba japonica, appears to be an exception to 
this general rule, and up to the present time the 
reason of this exception has not been discovered. 
If, on the other hand, we examine plants with 
marginal variegation, the law changes, and, under 
whatever condition they are, the variegation is 
permanent ; for instance, to return to the Holly 
and Kuonymus, of which we have just spoken—the 
Euonymus japonicus, var. argenteus, which has 
its leaves bordered with white, never varies—all 
its leaves remain variegated. In the variety of 
the same tree, the leaves of which, instead of being 
bordered, are blotched with white, the variation is 
considerable. The same holds true with regard to 
the common Holly. In the variety the leaves of 
which are bordered with white, we find very 


vigorous plants regularly variegated; in the 
blotched-leaved variety we meet with leaves the 
whole surface of which is yellow, others only 
partially marked with that color; and lastly, 
whole branches may be seen on which not the 
slightest trace of variegation can be found. These 
variations must have a cause; but that cause is 
unknown; and it is to induce physiologists to 
endeavor to trace it out that I have written the 
above. If it be discovered, we may, perhaps, at 
the same time, find the means of fixing the 
variegations; and the importance of this discovery 
to the decoration of gardens would be sufficient to 
induce some experiments being made with a view 
to the solution of the problem—HeartsEaseE, 
Hanis. 

Bees Swarming.—Our bees have, this season, 
increased more than I have known any to do under 
my career, for many years past. In short, I have 
never seen any thrive better, since I used to watch 
them, in the bright summer days, about the period 
of my entering upon my teeus. For many years 
past (I believe fully equal to the length of time 
that the potatoes have been diseased) have we been 
hearing from nearly all parts of the country re- 
specting the ill success of bees. A few years ago, 
in this neighborhood, many persons had their bees 
die in the middle of summer (such was the case 
here), and leaving honey in their hives. I 
managed to carry two stocks through the past 
winter, and such as I thought by no means strong, 
especially bearing in mind the unaccountable 
losses of some former years, and the very cold late 
spring, which literally fulfilled—‘ Winter lying in 
the lap of May;” but here, as I believe was 
general in England, May began with fine, dry, 
warm, and genial weather. This set them all at 
once at full liberty and action, and of this they 
evidently took good advantage. First swarm, 
May 17th, very large; second hive swarmed onthe ~ 
20th ditto. And they both swarmed a second 
time by nine days after the above date, and the 
two first swarms gave off one each; one by the 
15th, and the other by the end of June. These 
are now all busy in the garden here, excepting 
one that thought proper to start off and away, 
over a neighboring plantation and wood. From 
the beginning of May up to about the 18th of 
June we had beautiful and dry weather here; 
after this, we experienced about six weeks of 
remarkably dull and sunless weather, very bad 
for bees; so much so, that young swarms had 
enough to do to keep themselves alive during May 
and June. I was looking forward, expecting to 
see them able to gather a good stock of honey 
during summer. For their having swarmed at so 
early a period showed evident signs of their being 
in a strong and healthy condition; but as the 
season has progressed, they have been so very 
much kept back, that, with all their increase in 
nombers, I am much afraid, from the dull and 
cloudy character of the season, they will not be 
able to collect sufficient to carry them over the 
ensuing winter.—G. Dawson, Cornwall, Aug. 26. 

The Mulberry Tree.—Is it not surprising that 
a tree so intimately associated with the production 
of silk should be so neglected in this great manu- 
facturing country? It is true that, on the estates 

