tion under our roof. To my surprise, however, they soon began to build in the crotch of a beam over the open door-way. I was delighted, and spent more time watching, than penny-wise' people would have approved. It was, in fact, a beautiful little drama of domestic love. The mother bird was so busy, and so important; and her mate was so attentive! Never did any newly-married couple take more satisfaction with their first nicely arranged drawer of baby clothes, than they did in fashioning their little woven cradle.

"The father bird scarcely ever left the side of the nest. There he was all day long, twittering in tones that were most obviously the outpourings of love. Sometimes he would bring in a straw, or hair, to be interwoven in the precious little fabric. One day, my attention was arrested by a very unusual twittering, and I saw him circling round, with a large downy feather in his bill. He bent over the unfinished nest, and offered it to his mate with the most graceful and loving air imaginable; and when she put up her mouth to take it, he poured forth such a gush of gladsome sound! It seemed as if pride and affection had swelled his heart till it was almost too big for his little

bosom!

"When the young became old enough to fly, anybody would have laughed to watch the manoeuvres of the parents! Such a chirping and twittering! Such diving down from the nest, and flying up again! Such wheeling round in circles, talking to the young ones all the while! Such clinging to the sides of the shed with their sharp claws, to show the timid little fledglings that there was no fear of falling! For three days all this was carried on with increasing activity. It was obviously an infant flying school. But all their talking and fussing was of no avail. The little things looked down, then looked up, but alarmed at the infinity of space, sunk down into the nest again. At length, the parents grew impatient, and summoned their neighbours. As I was picking up chips one day, I found my head encircled by a swarm of swallows. They flew up to the nest, and jabbered away to the young ones: they clung to the walls, looking back to tell how the thing

was done; they dived, and wheeled, and balanced, and floated in a manner perfectly beautiful to behold. The pupils were evidently much excited. They jumped on the edge of the nest, and twittered, and shook their feathers and waved their wings, and then hopped back again, saying, 'It's pretty sport, but we can't do it.' Three times the neighbours came and repeated their graceful lesson. The third time, two of the young birds gave a sudden plunge downward, and then fluttered and hopped till they lighted on a small upright log. And oh, such praises as were warbled by the whole troop! The air was filled with their joy! Some were flying around, swift as a ray of light; others were perched on the hoe handle, and the teeth of the rake; multitudes clung to the wall, after the fashion of their pretty kind, and two were swinging in most graceful style, on a pendent hoop. Never, while memory lasts, shall I forget the swallow party."

Great stories are told about the nestbuilding of the orchard starling. Wilson, who all must admit, is pretty good authority in matters of this kind, gives a very particular account of the way in which the nest is put together. He says the bird commonly hangs its nest from the twigs of an apple-tree. The outside is made o. a particular kind of long, tough grass, that will bend without breaking; and this grass is knit or sewed through and through in a thousand directions, just as if done with a needle. The little creature does it with its feet and bill. Mr. Wilson says that he one day showed one of these nests to an old lady, and she was so much struck with the work, that she asked him, half in earnest, if he did not think that these birds could be taught to darn stockings? Mr. Wilson took the pains, too, to draw out one of these grass threads, and found that it measured thirteen inches, and in that distance the bird who used it had passed it in and out thirty-four times. J. C.

MARRIAGE should be considered as the most solemn league of perpetual friendship; a state from which artifice and concealment are to be banished for ever; and in which every act of dissimulation is a breach of faith.-Johnson.

ON ALMANACKS. HAD we the optical power of penetrating the brick walls of the offices of many of the public prints, we should at the present hour be gratified with a sight of innumerable pens all busy compiling dates, concocting paragraphs, and inventing jokes, to be embodied in that most wonderful of all modern compendiums, an Almanack. Since the days of blood-and- thunder prophesying Moore, these productions have been popular, but they have now assumed a character so very different from what appeared in his performance, that they really take a very prominent place in the annals of the day, and form no mean vehicles of information and amusement. The labours of this and the next month will usher into the world Almanacks of every description, from the humble pennyworth up to the morrocco bound five shilling's worth,-every one rivalling its neighbour in point of excellence, and teeming with knowledge as various as it is interesting, practical and useful. We ourselves have some of these before us at this moment, all different in their degrees of knowledge, their arrangements, their typography, and their form. The best of them in our estimation is THE HOME COMPANION ALMANACK, published by John Bennett, 69, Fleet-street; a truly wonderful issue,-redolent of humour, rich in innocent sportiveness, accurate in knowledge, and adorned with a profusion of comic and serious wood-cut Illustrations. The title-page itself is an epitome of the fun, frolic and feeling of human life. It is the pictorial embodiment of a whole ageful of human nature, from the sports and pastimes of girlhood and boyhood up to the more serious occupations of the prime of manhood and down to the lean and slippered pantaloon. We have held our sides over it in our elbow-chair, and give the designer hearty thanks for his ingenuity. The idea of the Angel of Good spearing Vice, as represented in a toad and a couple of snakes, is exceedingly happy, and merits a greater amount of commendation than we can wait to bestow upon it.

The introduction of pictorial charades, into a production of this kind too, is a new feature, and evidences a higher aim

and taste than have usually been adopted in these performances. It shows that the compiler has had a loftier end in view than the mere notation of dates with a fact or two culled from the obituaries of by-gone ages. The comic chronology, although not new in idea, is certainly original in design and execution. As woodcut historical and philosophical representations of humour they are excellent; and, perhaps, one of the happiest amongst them is that of Canute, after listening to his flatterers, bathing his feet, and supping a basonful of gruel. The pictorial enigmas, too, are another feature we think calculated in a high degree to enhance the value of this performance, as they serve to stimulate the ingenuity of youth, and afford amusement of the most innocent and rational kind to numbers of the younger branches of the family circle. On the whole, this is one of the cheapest, neatest and best got-up Almanacks we have ever seen. The outlay upon it must have been enormous; for we see it is, over and above what we have enumerated, accompanied with a double quarto engraving of the Costumes and Flags of Nations; the costumes and heraldry of the English and Welsh counties, and the heraldry of the peerage of Scotland and Ireland. The cost of this engraving alone must have been great, as it is not only well done, but in a high degree interesting as a documentary reference. We venture to predict,-not in the Moore or Murphy styles, the superiority of this pennyworth over all its forthcoming compeers, not only in point of embellishment, but in every feature that appertains to the general excellence of such productions; and if the adage, which says, Laughing makes one fat," be true, we would advise all the lean people who desire to get into a fuller habit, to purchase this Almanack, as there is, in addition to all its valuable matter, as much wit and humour in its pages, as will cause the most saturnine countenance to relax its monotony and assume the radiance of joy, almost in spite of itself.

66

COURTSHIP consists in a number of quiet attentions, not so pointed as to alarm, nor so vague as not to be understood.-Stern".

TRUE LOVELINESS.

She who thinks a noble heart
Better than a noble mein,
Honours virtue more than art,
Though 'tis less in fashion seen;
Whatsoe'er her fortune be,
She's the bride, the wife for me.
She who deems that inward grace
Far surpasses outward show,
She who values less the face

Than that charm the soul can throw ;
Whatsoe'er her fortune be,
She's the bride, the wife for me.
She who knows the heart requires,
Something more than lips of dew,
That when Love's brief repose expires,
Love itself dies with it too;
Whatsoe'er her fortune be,
She's the bride, the wife for me.

LOVE.

Oh! if there is one law above the rest,
Written in Wisdom-if there is a word
That I would trace as with a pen of fire
Upon the unsullied temper of a child-
If there is anything that keeps the mind
Open to angel visits, and repels
The ministry of ill-'tis Human Love!
God has made nothing worthy of contempt;
The smallest pebble in the well of Truth
Has its peculiar meanings, and will stand
When man's best monuments wear fast away.
The law of Heaven is Love-and though its name
Has been usurp'd by passion, and profaned
To its unholy uses through all time,
Still the external principle is pure:
And in these deep affections that we feel
Omnipotent within us, can we see

The lavish measure in which Love is given.
And in the yearning tenderness of a child
For every bird that sings above its head,
And every creature feeding on the hills,
And every tree and flower, and running brook,
We see how everything was made to love,
And how they err, who, in a world like this,
Find anything to hate but human pride.

WILLIS.

FAREWELL TO A SISTER.

Go forth to thine appointed rest,
Beyond the broad sea-foam;
Go forth our fairest and our best,
To thy far island home!

With him, thy youthful heart's approved,
Thy mate for many a year beloved;

In thy full matron bloom

Go forth, to act, as fate commands,
Thy part of life in other lands.

Kind thoughts attend thee, from the place
Where thou hast been so long
A daily sight, a household face,
A mate in work and song;
A flower to cheer, a lamp to shed
Soft light beside the sick one's bed:
To that beloved throng,
Each act of daily life shall be
A mute remembrancer of thee.

Full well we know, where'er thy lot,
Thou canst not be alone;

For Love, in earth's unkindliest spot,
Will find, or make its own;

And from the green and living heart
New friendships still, like buds, will start:
But yet, wherever thrown,

No ties can cling around thy mind
So close as those thou leav'st behind.
And oft, while gazing on the sea
That girds thy lonely isle,

Shall faithful memory bring to thee,
The home so loved erewhile!

Its lightsome rooms, its pleasant bowers,
The children, that like opening flowers

Grew up beneath thy smile;

The hearts that shared from earliest years
Thy joys and griefs, thy hopes and fears.
The sister's brow, so blithe of yore,

With early care imprest;

And she whose failing eyes no more
Upon her child may rest;

And kindred forms, and they who eyed
Thy beauty with a brother's pride;
And friends beloved the best,
The kind, the joyous, the sincere,
Shall to thine inward sight appear.
And they whose dying looks on thee
In grief and love were cast,-
The leaves from off our household tree
Swept by the varying blast,-
Oft in the mystery of sleep,
Shall Love evoke them from the deep
Of the unfathom'd Past,

And Fancy gather round thy bed
The spirits of the gentle dead.
Farewell! if on this parting day
Remorseful thoughts invade
One heart, for blessings cast away,
And fondness ill repaid!

He will not breathe then-let them rest
Within the stillness of the breast;

Be thy remembrance made

A home, where chast'ning thoughts may dwell My own true sister, fare thee well!

THE FIRST-BORN.

The First-born is a fairy child,

A wondrous emanation!

A tameless creature, fond and wildA moving exultation.

Beside the hearth, upon the stair,

Its footstep laughs with lightness; And cradled, all its features fair

Are touch'd with mystic brightness.
First pledge of their betrothed love-
Oh, happy they that claim it!
First gift direct from Heaven above-
Oh, happy they that name it!
It tunes the household with its voice,
And, with quick laughter ringing,
Makes the inanimate rooms rejoice,
A hidden rapture bringing.

Its beauty all the beauteous things
By kindred light resembles;
But, evermore with fluttering wings,
On fairy confines trembles.
So much of those that gave it birth,
Of father and of mother;

So much of this world built on earth,
And so much of another!

TRIFLES.

THE entire assets of a recent bankrupt were nine small children! The creditors acted magnanimously, and let him keep them.

THE following advertisement is copied from a Dublin paper of the 29th August, 1805:-"Notice is hereby given, that the fox cover of Turnant is poisoned, for the preservation of the game."

HIGH-FLOWN PANEGYRIC.

A member of the House of Commons, some years ago, wishing to praise very highly the then Speaker, said,-"Sir your conduct shall be remembered when time shall be no more."

In a dispute between Sir Watkin Lewis and Wilkes, the former said, "I'll be your butt no longer." "With all my heart," said Wilkes, "I bate an empty one!"

"I cannot imagine," said an Alderman, "why my whiskers turn gray so much sooner than the hair on my head." "Because," observed a wag, "you have worked so much harder with your jaws than your brains."

AN Irish labourer, having been taken before the Lord Mayor for stealing some wood from the New Buildings, Snow-hill, was asked his name: "Arrah, I can't tell; I was not at my own christening, honey."

AN Irishman, boasting of his excellent eyesight, said he saw at that moment a mouse on the top of the monument:-"I cannot say I see it," answered his friend and countryman; "but I can plainly hear it squeak."

AN old lady, some time ago, was tossed by a bull in Holborn, into the window of a pastrycook's shop;-stunned by the shock, though not much hurt, the first words she heard, on coming to herself, were those of the mistress of the shop, abusing her for spoiling the pastry!

A POOR valetudinarian was recommended to take a change of air for the benefit of his health. "Go to Brighton," said the medical man; "the air of Brighton is very good for pectoral complaints." "But very bad for pocket complaints, is it not, doctor?" replied the invalid.

THE GAME OF DEFINITIONS.

Young Lady-An Essay on Grace in one Vol., with an elegant frontispiece.

Gentleman A Manual of Good Manners, bound in cloth. The polished diamond of society.

Old Maid-A Quiverful of arrows with no beau attached. The pepper-box of humanity. A peripatetic wig-block.

Bachelor-A Dandylion run to seed in a garden of beautiful flowers.

Flirtation-The Rattle of the female snake before securing its victim. Young ladies' social champagne.

Heart-The best card in the chance game of "Matrimony;" sometimes overcome by diamonds and knaves, often won by tricks, treated in a shuffling manner, and cut altogether.

Album-A dawing-room man- trap, set by young ladies.

PROVERBIAL RHYMES.

Little strokes fell great oaks.

The higher the plum-tree, the riper the plum;
The richer the cobbler, the blacker his thumb.

A man of words and not of deeds,
Is like a garden full of weeds.
Pay what you owe,

And what you're worth you'll know.
He that by the plough would thrive,
Himself must either hold or drive.
There's nothing agrees worse,
Than a prince's heart and a beggar's purse.
As a man lives, so shall he die;
As a tree falls so shall it lie.
The counsels that are given in wine,
Will do no good to thee or thine.
Who, more than he is worth, doth spend,
E'en makes a rope his life to end.
Be always as merry as ever you can,
For no one delights in a sorrowful man.
Maidens must be mild and meek,
Swift to hear, and slow to speak.
Who spends more than he should,
Hath not to spend when he would.

If a man knew when things would be dear,
He need be a merchant but one year.
Would you live an angel's days
Be honest, just, and wise always.
Enough's as good as a feast,
To one that's not a beast.
If you trust before you try,
You may repent before you die.
There are no gains without pains;
Then plough deep, while sluggards sleep.

I never saw an oft-removed tree,
Nor yet an oft-removed family,

That throve so well as those that settled be.
"The most haste, the worst speed,"
Quoth the tailor to his long thread.
The good or ill hope of a good or ill life,
Is the good or ill choice of a good or ill wife.
When I did well, I heard it never;
When I did ill, I heard it ever.
Vessels large may venture more,
But little boats should keep near shore.
Fond pride of dress is sure a very curse,
Ere fancy you consult, consult your purse.

For age and want save while you may,
No morning sun lasts a whole day.

Get what you can, and, what you get, hold,
"Tis the stone that will turn all your lead into
gold.

The friend of the table

Is very variable.

He that would please all and himself too,
Undertakes what none could do.

Early to bed and early to rise,

Will make a man healthy, wealthy, and wise. The head and feet keep warm;

The rest will take no harm.

DOMESTIC RECEIPTS.

Cold Custards.-Mix together the milk, cream, and sugar. Stir the wine into it, and pour the mixture into your custard-cups. Set them in a warm place near the fire, till they become a firm curd. Then set them in a very cold place. Grate nutmeg over them.

Jenny Lind's Pudding.-Grate the crumb of half a loaf, butter a dish well and lay in a thick layer of the crumbs; pare 10 or 12 apples, cut them down, and put a layer of them and sugar; then crumbs alternately, until the dish is full, put a bit of butter on the top, and bake it in an oven, or American despatch.-An excellent and economical pudding for this season.-M. C. S.

Jaunemange.-Take 2 oz. isinglass, dissolve in 1 pint of boiling water, add to it 1 pint of sherry wine, the juice of 3 lemons, and rind of one; sweeten this to your taste, then add the yolks of 8 eggs well beaten,-put it on the fire, let it simmer, but not boil,-strain it into your mould. N.B. The best way to dissolve isinglass is to put it into a basin, and just cover it with water, and place it in a saucepan of water over the fire,there is then no fear of its sticking or burning.— Tested by E. H., Clifton.

Polka Pudding.-Mix 4 tablespoonfuls of arrowroot in a pint of cold milk. Beat 4 eggs well, add them, 3 oz. fresh butter, cut in small bits; a dessert-spoonful of rose-water; a few drops of essence of lemon, or ratafia, and a teacupful of sugar. Boil 2 pints of milk in a saucepan; when boiling stir in the other ingredients, without taking the pan off the fire, let it boil till thick, then pour into a mould to cool. Turn it out and serve it cold.-"Frequently tried, and always approved of."-M. C. S.

Apple Bread.-A very light pleasant bread is made in France by a mixture of apples and flour, in the proportion of one of the former to two of the latter. The usual quantity of yeast is em ployed as in making common bread, and is beat with flour and warm pulp of the apples after they have boiled, and the dough is then considered as set: it is then put in a proper vessel, and allowed to rise for eight or twelve hours, and then baked in long loaves. Very little water is requisite; none, generally, if the apples are very fresh.J. S., Taunton.

Kisses, or Cream Cake.-The whites of three eggs, one drop of essence of lemon, as much powdered sugar as will thicken the eggs. Whisk the whites to a dry froth, then add the powdered sugar a teaspoonful at a time, till the egg is as thick as very thick batter. Wet a sheet of white paper, place it on a tin, and drop the egg and sugar on it in lumps about the shape and

size of a walnut. Set them in a cool oven, and as soon as the sugar is hardened, take them out; with a broad-bladed knife, take them off the paper, place the flat parts of two together, put them on a sieve in a very cool oven to dry.-"I send the above receipt, which I have tried with success."-M. D. H.

Curds and Whey.-Take a small piece of rennet, about two inches square. Wash it very clean in cold water, to get all the salt off, and wipe it dry. Put it in a teacup, and pour on it just enough of lukewarm water to cover it. Let it set all night, or for several hours. Then take out the rennet,

and stir the water in which it was soaked, into a quart of milk, which should be in a broad dish. Set the milk in a warm place, till it becomes a firm curd. As soon as the curd is completely made, set it in a cool place (if in summer) for two or three hours before you want to use it. Eat it with wine, sugar, and nutmeg. The whey, drained from the curd, is an excellent drink for invalids. When perfectly well made, it always looks greenish.

Milk Biscuits.-A quarter of a pound of butter, one quart of milk, one gill of yeast, as much flour as will form the dough, and a little salt. Stir flour into the milk so as to form a very thick batter, and add the yeast; this is called a sponge. This should be done in the evening; in the morning cut up the butter, and set it near the fire where it will dissolve, but not get hot; pour the melted butter into the sponge, then stir in enough flour to form a dough, knead it well and stand it away to rise. As soon as it is perfectly light, butter your tins, make out the dough in small cakes, and let them rise. When they are light, bake them in a very quick oven, take them out, wash the tops over with water, and send them to the table hot.-H. DAVIS.

General Directions for making Sweetmeats and Jellies. In preparing sugar for sweetmeats, let it be entirely dissolved before you put it on the fire. If you dissolve it in water, allow about half a pint of water to a pound of sugar. If you boil the sugar before you add the fruit to it, it will be improved in clearness by passing it through a flannel bag. Skim off the brown scum all the time it is boiling. If sweetmeats are boiled too long, they lose their flavour and be come of a dark colour. If boiled too short a time they will not keep well. You may ascertain when jelly is done, by dropping a small spoonful into a glass of water. If it spreads and mixes with the water, it requires more boiling. If it sinks in a lump to the bottom, it is sufficiently done. This trial must be made after the jelly is cold. Rasp berry jelly requires more boiling than any sort. Black currant jelly less. Keep your sweet meats in glass jars.

other

To Boil Rice.-Very few persons know how to boil rice properly. It is usually so boiled as to become a heavy dough, so tenacious and solid as to be almost impenetrable to the digestive fluids secreted by the mouth and the stomach, which are necessary to dissolve it and to effect its diges tion and distribution, as innocent nourishing food. It should be so cooked that the grains shall remain separate and distinct, but not hard, and the whole be in some degree loose and porous. A friend of mine, long subject to dyspeptic complaints, and therefore well versed in the science of food and cookery suitable to his necessities, dictated to me the following recipe for dressing rice properly, and in the way he had long been in the habit of preparing it for his ow use:-"To boil rice.-Soak it for seven hours in cold water and salt (that is, I suppose, in cold salted water). Have a stewpan ready, containing boiling water, into which put the soaked rice, and boil it briskly for ten minutes. Then pour it into a cullender, set it by the fire awhile, and serve it up. The grains will be separate, and will be very large." - Recommended by MARY

EVANS.