
KIDD’S OWN JOURNAL. 

209 


AN AUTUMNAL RAMBLE. 
BY ‘* OUR EDITOR.” 
Behold ! how fast advancing o’er the plain 
The lavish AuruMN comes in rosy triumph, 
Waving his golden hair. Yon blooming mallow, 
That opes his red lip to the kiss of day, 
Just tells his coming,—then retires unseen 
To join his sister tribes in Flora’s bower. 
KOoRNER. 

Not Spring or Summer’s beauty hath such grace 
As I have seen in “‘ one’? AUTUMNAL face. 
DONNE. 
m HERE Is NO MONTH IN THE 
@ YEAR—at least so WE think— 
comparable to the month of 
September, or October, for a 
run into the country. It is 
then that one feels naturally 
anxious to rub off the rust 
that of necessity has accumu- 
lated during the earlier months of the year ; 
and when the heart, pent up, wants atiec- 
tionately to relieve itself of a heavy load of 
care. We speak feelingly. 
Nature cannot be outraged with impunity. 
Therefore was’ it wisely ordained that the 
body should have rest one day in seven. 
But for this, insanity would be more common 
among us than it is. But we want more 
than this one day in seven. We want to be 
thoroughly regenerated in mind, body, and 
estate; and this can only be effected by 
change of air, change of scene, and an 
abandon to the society of those whom we 
dearly love,—this, once at least every year. 
If ever anybody was formed for society, 
WE are. We are no misanthrope; albeit 
we do run a perpetual tilt at the world’s 
insane follies. We want to love, and be 
loved. Then are we in our “natural ele- 
ment.’ The world is fair; and it holds 
many in whom we take great delight. It 
is pleasant to “think ” of them at all times; 
but the charms of propinquity—be those 
our happy lot! : 
Behold us then, armed with a “ little 
carpet. bag,”—our especial pet, on a fine 
morning towards the close of September. 
Free from all care, and with a glorious sun 
above our head, we might have been 
seen (and were seen, as we afterwards heard,) 
tripping, at 10 a.m., into the Waterloo 
Station, —our face turned direct towards 
Southampton. 
On our entrance, the “Express train” 
was busily being put into travelling gear. 
Men, women, and children; Englishmen 
and foreigners; good-tempered and _ill- 
tempered,—bags and baggage; all were 
flying about im every direction. Wishing 
to do the thing comfortably, we sought 
entrance to a first-class carriage. It had 
already two female occupants, richly 
dressed. Desirous of seeing what we ex- | 




pected to see—two smiling, pretty faces, we 
looked archly; and, behold! our gaze en- 
countered a pair of spectral visages, entombed 
in blue “ shrouds,” or “uglies.” A single 
bound delivered us at once from these 
Satanic beauties; and in another carriage, 
we found what we were in search of,— 
pleasant, cheerful, travelling companions, 
modestly and properly attired. ‘The bell 
rang—the engine whistled—and away we 
flew. 
Glad indeed were we to turn our back 
upon this Modern Babylon--this city of 
deception, cold-heartedness, wickedness, 
folly, and hypocrisy. But for some few, 
held captive here, and whom we dearly 
love, never again should our shadow darken 
the guilty city. We hate it, and its inha- 
bitants,with a hatred amounting to bitterness. 
The time will come, let us hope—may it 
not be very far distant !—when we shall be 
sufficiently independent to bid it adieu for 
ever. But the train is tearing away, and 
we have no more time to moralise. 
Not to dwell upon some delightful con- 
versation which passed between ourself and 
a numerous and very interesting family, en 
route for the Isle of Wight—bringing vividly 
before us our sayings and doings in that 
Garden of Paradise some two-and-twenty 
years agone,—we speedily arrived at South- 
ampton, whose noble Docks (all new to Us) 
eaused us to stare in mute astonishment. 
“wenty-two years ago!” What changes 
hath Time not wrought!. We had reason 
to say so, ere our return. 
Arrived at the terminus, the glorious sun 
shone so very brightly that we set out on 
foot. Hvery step was a puzzle tous. Our 
memory was indeed severely taxed! But 
we love to dwell upon by-gone days; and 
as we strove to collect our wandering ideas, 
a sweet feeling of pleasure stole over us, as, 
one by one, past images returned to our 
mind. We will not further particularise 
the impressions made upon us ; but we shall 
not readily forget them. 
Here -let us remark, that pleasure and 
business were united in this little excursion. 
We received a kind hint, that we ought to 
“show ourself” m a neighborhood where 
Our JouRNAL had so completely established 
itself. We felt the force of this, and did 
show ourself; deriving therefrom very con- 
siderable benefit. Wherever we went, the 
utmost cordiality awaited us—with only a 
single exception. 
Our readers may wonder, if we do not 
explain, what this “single exception’’ was. 
We allude to a visit, the very jirst visit we 
paid, to a bookseller’s establishment. (We 
were emerging from the railway towards the 
High Street.) The bookseller’s name must 
be immortalised. We promised the good 



+ ee 
te Wars IV. 14. Pp 

