376 
Gold Fish.—The Chinese say, my dear Sir, that 
these fish were first brought to Amoy from Japan, 
where they are indigenous, being found in a tepid 
lake on the summit of the Laconie mountains— 
probably the crater of an extinct volcano, ‘The 
Mandarins, we are told, avail themselves of this 
fairy family as garden ornaments—frequently in- 
troducing them between plates of glass in the 
interstices of their favorite rockwork, which they 
render water-tight by a varnish which they call 
tamfoo; or retaining them in porcelain vases, 
symmetrically disposed on the balustrades of their 
houses. They are generally fed on a sort of-biscuit 
made of rice, with, in the colder season, a small 
quantity of the bark of the camphor-tree, very 
finely powdered—called Fangti. During the 
breeding season, the eggs of certain insects are 
liberally supplied. Rain-water agrees better with 
them than spring-water ; for, if there be iron in the 
soil, they gradually lose their brilliancy, and become 
of an ashy-brown color; or, if chalk abounds, or 
porcelain clay, they become blind—the scales throw 
out a cottony exudation, like the American blight 
on the apple tree, and they die. It is a singular 
circumstance attending gold fish, that, under cer- 
tain dispositions of their temperament, they are 
seized with a sort of furore, and devour each other; 
the stronger preying on the more feeble. The 
Chinese call this disease Chang-poo-Ching. I do 
not know whether it occurs in our latitude — 
Lucy N., Tottenham. 
[Yes, Mademoiselle, this furore does occasion- 
ally take place; but not very frequently.] 
A NEW YEAR’S DINNER. 
BY TwO ‘OLD HANDS.” 

EATING is good;—very; and Drinxine also. But let 
every thing be done in moderation; so that we may 
RATIONALLY enjoy ourselves, and have no reason to 
repent on the morrow what we have done to-day.— 
ADDISON. 

LET US, OF COURSE, BEGIN WITH BEEF. 
Mighty is the baron! Beautiful too—aye, 
infinitely more beautiful than the laurels of 
sword-flourishing conquerors—is the sprig 
of holly here and there stuck about it, 
suggestive of the glory of the season. Well, 
then, you must buy a baron—yes, a whole 
baron, for you have the wherewithal. And 
if you have not,—why, would that you had ! 
But, nonsense, you have the means; and 
therefore, a whole baron must you buy, as 
the foundation of a New Year’s dinner. 
There; you have given your orders like a 
man! And see; the butcher, blithely touch- 
ing his hat, avouches that the identical baron 
—upon whose yellow fat your eye is now 
complacently reposing—shall be sent to your 
kitchen. ‘That baron,—and no other. 
Stay, there is a small sirloin; that you 
must buy too. You must indeed. Nay; 
you are about to reply that, with a baron, 
what need have you of a sirloin? Much; 
the greatest need. We know far better than 
you, what you require for the right enjoyment 
So; very well. 
of this happy season. The 




KIDD’S OWN JOURNAL. 
butcher will send home the sirloin. 
right, Sir!” 
Well; here we are at the poulterer’s. Sir, 
you have an eye for a turkey. That zs a 
most magnificent bird indeed! A very roc 
in magnitude. Norfolk-hatched and reared, 
and in truth worthy to represent the county. 
It is a good deal of money; but then, it is 
for the New Year. And consider the indirect 
applause of your magnificence and _ taste, 
when your guests applaud that turkey! You 
may for a time make common cause with the 
bird. Yes; when your guests shall exclaim 
‘‘ What a superb fellow !”—you may at least 
divide the compliment with the gallinaceous 
glory on your table. Therefore but why 
talk ? You have bought the turkey. 
Wait another minute. There is a delicate 
goose; anice, plump offering to the geniali- 
ties of the season. Oh, we observe your 
surprise. Your eye speaks, and asks—“ How 
is it possible that, with such a monster of a 
turkey, I can do anything with that goose ?” 
You'll want it. We assure you, upon the 
credit of our philosophy, that you’ll-want it! 
That’s proper. The goose, considering the 
season, is a great bargain, and therefore will 
“accompany” the turkey to your homestead. 
And when you buy the ingredients for 
your pudding, buy not according to time- 
hallowed recipes, a pound of one thing—two 
ounces of another—and so on; showing 
yourself a bigot to the cookery-book. But 
buy a pound aid ahalf—three ounces instead 
of two : in all things buy more—more. Rely 
on it, you will want them. 
With the like largeness of heart, make 
mince-pies. Lay in a stock of all things “‘sea- 
sonable,’’—and plenty of them. 
And when you have done all this, look 
around you for poor friends; old helpless 
acquaintance—pining, pauper neighbors. To 
one, send your sirloin. To another, your 
supplementary goose. To another, ingredi- 
ents for a pudding,—and so on, until, down 
to your neighbors’ children, you have made 
a largess of apples, oranges, and chesnuts ; 
and perhaps a trifle more. 
All this done, set yourself—cross -legged 
if you will—cosily down; and ruminate, 
whilst enjoying yourself among your friends, 
upon the happiness that you have been 
conferring upon others. 
This is,—worth living for. 
“ Quite 


OUR ADIEU! 

To-pay, in snow array’d, stern Winter rules 
The ravag’d plain. Anon, the teeming earth 
Unlocks her stores, and Spring adorns the year. 
So let us,—Friends,while Fate like Winter frowns, 
‘G BLIss ! 
EXPECT REVOLVING B ane 
——_—— 
END OF VOLUME IV. 


