
KIDD’S OWN JOURNAL. 
267 

these; and seduced by meretricious pictures 
artfully brought under the eye (these literary 
vampires go to work with an energy worthy 
of a better cause),—the eye sees, the 
passions become inflamed, the senses are 
captivated. The victim reads, imbibes the 
poison; and perhaps, from that very hour 
may be dated her (or his) ruin. The present 
alarming state of society is attributable (if 
not solely, at all events to a frightful extent) 
to the weekly issue of these cheap abomina- 
tions. The letters we receive on the subject 
are heart-rending, 
Whilst so much pelf is derivable from the 
sale of this mental poison (whose proprietors 
have but “one’’ idea,—money), vain is it 
for us, and for our respectable brethren of the 
press, to raise our united voices. We are 
barking continually, as public watch-dogs ; 
but people get used to the bark, and heed it 
not. Whilst therefore the vampires secure 
the unthinking, easily-pleased multitude, 
and live by preying upon their vitals (there 
remains another account, to be settled at a 
future day),— WE are content to blow the 
trumpet and collect the mal-contents who 
may fly from the enemy’s camp. We 
hardly need remark that our worthy little 
contemporary, the Family Herald, is a most 
honorable exception among the cheap 
weeklies. * 
But let us now return from this digression, 
—a, digression which, at this season of the 
year, is called for most loudly ; for pleasure 
and excess will soon have undisputed sway. 
Our maxim is, —‘‘Be merry, and wise.” 
And now, we will pursue our inquiry into 
the subject of “ Blind as a Mole: ”’— > 
On a bright sunshiny day, ‘‘in the merry month 
of May,” a few years ago, I found myself, in com- 
pany with an old schoolfellow, scrambling all-fours 
over an abrupt piece of rock, which looks up on 
the one side to Edina’s hoary-headed guardian, 
Arthur’s Seat, and down on the other into the 
placid face of Duddingston Loch. The spot is, to 
a certain extent, historic ground, for along this 
little valley the young chevalier’s army defiled, in 
1745, on their way to the field of Preston Pans. 
I cannot exactly say what was the aim of our 
walk ; certainly my friend had an eye to the pic- 
turesque, and inhaled many a good draught of 
light and shade; while I picked up tiny morsels 
of grass and trashy-looking weeds, eyeing them 
with sreater glee than the Bathurst or San Fran- 
cisco pligrim fingers his jaundice-faced idol. 
Having no exclusive object in our ramble, we 
felt at liberty to draw amusement and instruction 
from anything, whether from the cirrus clouds, 
chasing each other across the clear blue field of 
Heaven, or those noisy gentlemen the sable daws, 
careering round the distant towers of old Craig- 
Millar Castle. The attention of my companion 
* We prove this, by so frequently extracting 
from its stores of useful knowledge. 

was attracted by a rustling noise close under his 
feet ; and making a by no means graceful descent 
to the spot whence it proceeded, he noticed appear- 
ing from a compact mass of stones and rubbish, 
the hind-quarters of a dark rat-looking animal, 
which seemed violently convulsed by vain efforts 
to pierce further into the ground. 
‘lo solve, if possible, his difficulty, I joined him ; 
and seizing the stumpy tail with as great. glee, 
and almost with the same effect, as the malicious 
“‘cutty-sark” did that of the poor ‘‘mare Maggy” 
-—pulled, from its dark and winding retreat, a 
struggling mole. Many of our country readers, 
when boys, may have thoughtlessly caught such 
by means of a trap—thoughtlessly we say, for the 
mole is not an animal to be foolishly destroyed, as 
it often has been. As suddenly as a greasy-tailed 
pig the animal slipped from my fingers, and before 
I could retake him, was half buried among the 
roots of the grass: but when swung comfortably 
in a pocket handkerchief, escape was impossible, 
and home we went with our prize, which puffed 
and snorted in the worst imaginable humor. 
Anxious to watch the habits of our singular 
friend, a temporary habitation was constructed for 
him, from an old tea chest; on which was fitted a 
glass lid with sufficient apertures to admit an 
abundant supply of air. A quantity of earth served 
him for a bed; and worms, in dozens, constituted 
his daily rations. Could any reasonable mole de- 
sire more? And yet, on the third day from his 
capture, he was among the things which were! 
Believing that some little interest may be taken 
even in a humble mole, I purpose to detail our 
observations; first, on his habits, and then on his 
structure. Determined to decide for ourselves, if 
possible, the much-vexed question of the mole’s 
“eyes, or no eyes,’ we set about a series of simple 
experiments to test our friend’s susceptibility to 
light. Of course we had the authority of many 
naturalists in favor of his eyesight ; and, among 
the rest, that of old Buffon. But, unfortunately 
for the credibility of all his statements, we had 
also read in the same gentleman’s work, that four 
hundred men breakfasted on the egg of a dodo, and 
this dreadful swallow made us very suspicious. 
As the box in which the mole resided was pro- 
vided with a glass top, we could at pleasure keep 
him in comparative darkness, or shower upon him 
a flood of light, by simply moving the gas flame 
so as to have it shaded by the side of the box, or 
placed in full blaze above the glass. 
When in the former state, the little nibbler 
devoured his supper of worms with great avidity; 
seeming to be as comfoitable on the surface of 
the mould as if in his subterranean burrow. 
But no sooner was the light brought to bear upon 
him than he displayed the utmost uneasiness, and 
dived into the profundity of the soil. In his 
marches also (which, by the way, though not so 
full of grace as a dancing-master’s walk, were yet 
far from ungainly), he invariably appeared cogni- 
sant of the presence of an opposing obstacle 
without coming in actual contact with it; and 
turned right or left, face about, in quite a dignified 
style. In some instances the smell of the obstacle 
might have been the indicator of its presence; but 
in order to overrule this objection, a variety of 
objects were employed, as the human hand, a 
piece of wood, a table-knife, a bit of looking-glass, 

