
KIDDS OWN JOURNAL. 
SOMETHING SEASONABLE. 
A BLACKBERRY PUDDING. 

« But why have you put these two sprays into your 
basket,—why do you not pull the berries off them 2’ 
«‘ They are for my wife, sir, I never go blackberrying 
without getting a spray or two of the best I can find 
for her,—she* is so uncommonly fond of them. You 
can’t think, sir, how she enjoys the sprays.” 

NLY To THINK! How VERY 
LITTLE IS THE EFFORT 
®- required to make two people 
® purely happy; and yet how 
very often is it neglected, 
lost sight of—forgotten! We 
mua live in days of such pure (im- 
pure) selfishness, that our remark will only 
raise a smile.* Yet will we have our say out. 
It shall be as “ bread cast upon the waters,” 
—perhaps ! 
Did any of our male readers ever pass by 
a nicely set-out window—either in St. Paul’s 
Churchyard, or on Ludgate Hill,—and 
observe therein, temptingly “set up,” some 
pretty, stylish cap,—or a love of a ribbon— 
or a sweet little duck of a neck-tie? We 
ask—did any one of our readers ever see 
“such” an article, and long to become the 
possessor of it, with the view to place it 
fondly on the head or person of “ one’? they 
dearly loved ? A whisper will do. . ; 
We thought as much. Thank you! 
Well; now that we have broken the ice, 
(and let us, too, plead seriously ‘guilty ” to 
the charge hinted at,—we don’t want to 
escape !)—we bring under our readers’ notice 
a pretty morceau, sent us by a valued friend 
at St. Leonard’s ; it being, as she delicately 
and feelingly expressed it,—“ quite after our 
own manner of thinking.” It is penned by 
one “Qld Humphrey,” and has appeared 
in a local paper. It is none the worse for 
that, so,—come forward, honest Old Hum- 
phrey ! 
‘Never, surely, was man more fond of a 
blackberry than lam! With all its thorns, 
the bramble is a favorite with me. It first 
gives me pleasure with its purple stem, green 
leaves and flowers, and then regales me 
with its delicious fruit. 
A week ago, I set off to a hedge which 
had often furnished me with a sumptuous 
feast. There, the spiky thorn formed a 
barrier to curb the cattle; and there, the 
bramble used to flourish in all its glory. 
Alas! Iwas disappointed of my treat; for 


* We hardly need say that these remarks, 
addressed to our own regular readers, are not 
meant to apply to them. Assuredly not. We 
-take credit for having a goodly company, who 
rejoice in sharing our sentiments. For them we 
live, for them we write, But they may have 
acquaintances who may be otherwise minded. 
It is at them that our arrow flies. 
Vor. [V.—16. 


241 

the time of blackberries was not yet fully 
come. Nota ripe berry could I find. 
“Well,” thought I, “though I reckoned 
on my entertainment, I must not take the 
matter to heart. True it is, that I am 
thirsty, and very grateful would the juicy 
fruit have been to me; but I can do without 
it. Let me be thankful that I am nota 
toilworn pilgrim in the hot desert—over- 
whelmed with the dreadful announcement— 
‘The well is dry.’ ” 
Thus endeavoring to make the best of my 
little disappointment, I walked on, and 
soon after saw a poor man, whom I took 
to be a fisherman, coming towards me with 
a basket. The very sight of that basket 
encouraged both hope and expectation. 
‘Have you been gathering blackberries ?” 
said I. | 
‘‘T have, sir,’’ replied the man, “‘ but they 
are scarce at present. By-and-by, there will 
be enough of them.”’ 
As the man spoke, he removed the lid of 
his basket, that I might see his store; and a 
goodly store it was. Some of the berries 
were certainly red; but the greater part of 
them were black. 
‘Do you sell them ?” said I. 
‘No, sir,” said he, “I never sell them. J 
get them for my wife, who is uncommonly 
fond of a blackberry pudding.”’ 
“That does not at all surprise me,’’ said 
I. “The blackberry is good, eat it how you 
will. It is good, cooked or uncooked; ina 
pudding or a pie; plucked from the bush, or 
picked from the basket. May I have some ?” 
“‘ As many as you like, sir,” was his frank 
reply. So I set to work, picking the tip- 
toppers from among them, taking as many 
as I chose, dropping a sixpence into the 
basket for the man’s children (if he had 
any), and feeling very thankful for so unex- 
pected a feast. 
“But why have you put these two sprays 
in your basket ?” said 1. ‘‘ Why do you not 
pull the berries off them ?” 
““They are for my wife, sir,” saidhe. “TI 
never go blackberrying without getting a 
spray or two of the best I can find for her— 
she is uncommonly fondof them. You can’t 
think, sir, how she enjoys the sprays!” 
“Thats right,” said I, “ andI hope you 
will never give up so excellent a custom. 
You go the right way to make your wife love 
you; for kindness begets kindness all the 
world over. Those two sprays are worth a 
whole basketfull of blackberries. Of the 
pudding you will, most likely, have your 
share, but the sprays will be your wite’s, and 
hers alone.” 
For some time the poor fisherman kept 
shaking up his basket that I might pick out 
the best of its contents ; while I kept talking 
to him,—not knowing which was the better 


