by which, at no cost save the work of my hands, I have made the most unpromising teem with luxuriance. In the most out of the way corner, I dig a hole about three feet square and eighteen inches deep. Into this are thrown grass, weeds, decayed plants, and all the vegetable waste of the house, as well as soap suds, &c. ; until the hole is full. I then cover it with a layer of garden mould, and dig a similar pit adjoining. By the time the second pit is filled, the first is ready to be emptied. I effect this, by digging a garden bed a foot deep, and depositing a layer of the contents of the pit, about six inches in depth, covering it with six inches of earth,— -so proceed ing until I have emptied the first pit, which is then used as before. In the meantime, the ashes from the house are sifted in a corner of the garden, and intimately mixed with the mould. This is again sifted, and spread over the surface of the bed, giving it a neat, blackish appearance. In this, I plant or sow; and the roots, in time, find the rich nourishment provided for them at bottom. I have thus a plentiful and constant supply of manure without cost; and I have always found it successful in producing me abundant crops of fruit, flowers, or vegetables. I have therefore, generally, a luxuriant-looking garden, at an outlay of a few pence for seeds. I can quite appreciate your love for small birds. I love them too; and have always a supply of bread crumbs for them on a window-sill, which attracts numbers of little visitors.--EPHRA, Birkenhead. Strange to say, they were all hatched; and by The Milk-tree.-Mr. Wallace, in his interesting "Travels on the Amazon," thus writes:-We felt much interest in examining several large logs of the masseranduba, cr milk-tree. On our way through the forest, we had seen some trunks much notched by persons who had been extracting the milk. It is one of the noblest trees of the forest, rising with a straight stem to an enormous height. The timber is very hard, fine-grained, and durable, and is valuable for works which are much exposed to the weather. The fruit is eatable, and very good, the size of a small apple, and full of a rich and very juicy pulp. But strangest of all is the vegetable milk, which exudes in abundance when the bark is cut. It has about the consistence of thick cream, and, but for a very slight peculiar taste, could scarcely be distinguished from the genuine product of the cow. Mr. Leavens ordered. a man to tap some logs that had lain nearly a month in the yard. He cut several notches in the bark with an axe, and in a minute the rich sap was running out in great quantities. It was collected in a basin, diluted with water, strained, and brought up at tea-time and at breakfast next Insects,-Sogines Punctulatus.-On the even-morning. The peculiar flavor of the milk seemed ing of the 30th of last October, I had occasion to rather to improve the quality of the tea, and gave visit a young friend of mine, who resides about it as good a color as rich cream. In coffee it is ten minutes distance from our house. It was equally good. Mr. Leavens informed us that he nearly eight o'clock; the evening was star-light, had made a custard of it, and that, though it had and slightly foggy, the thermometer marking 53. a curious dark color, it was very well tasted. The Whilst walking along the gravel walk, in my milk is also used for glue, and is said to be as friend's garden, I was attracted by a sort of phos- durable as that made use of by carpenters. As a phoric light-similar to that emitted by a glow- specimen of its capabilities in this line, Mr. worm. As it changed its place rapidly, it was Leavens showed us a violin he had made, the evident it must proceed from some insect. I belly-board of which, formed of two pieces, he had thought it might be Geophilus electricus; but glued together with it applied fresh from the tree, on approaching it, I easily saw, by the aid of its without any preparation. It had been done two brilliant light, its six legs; though I could not years. The instrument had been in constant use; see the upper part of its body. This clearly proved and the joint was now perfectly good, and sound that the light must have been emitted from the throughout its whole length. As the milk sides, or lower part of the body. I stooped to seize hardens by exposure to air, it becomes a very my little friend, but it ran off; leaving an inter- tough, slightly elastic substance, much resembling rupted, intermittent, phosphoric light on its track gutta-percha; but, not having the property of of passage. There was no difficulty in following being softened by hot water, is not likely to become and securing it; and on examination next day, so extensively useful as that article.―LECTOR. it turned out to be Sogines Punctulatus. I know full well that many beetles emit a phosphorescent light; but I am not aware that this peculiarity has been before observed in the one I have just described. I therefore beg a corner for its insertion in OUR JOURNAL-BOMBYX ATLAS. Artificial Flower-making.—Artificial flowermaking is not an insignificant trade. An inquiry was made into the industrial statistics of Paris in 1847, which lets us into a little secret in this matter. The total manufacture of cambric flowers in that year was prodigious, amounting in value A Woodcock's Eggs hatched by a common Hen. to more than £400,000 sterling. We, in England, -I am anxious to record in the columns of OUR only took £12,000 worth of this value; for we JOURNAL, a very pretty as well as curious fact, pride ourselves on being able to make our own for the truth of which I can vouch. In July last, "artificial flowers." The cambric, muslin, gauze, the gamekeeper of J. Crawshaw, Esq., of Otters- velvet, silk, and other materials were procured ham Park, near Chertsey, discovered in a neigh- from St. Etienne, St. Quentin, and Lyons; the boring wood, the nest of a woodcock. In it dyes and colors were prepared expressly for the were three eggs. These he removed, and by way purpose by manufacturing chemists; the buds, of experiment placed them under a common hen. | leaves, petals, stamens, pistils, and other com ponent parts, were made in small workshops by persons who each attended to only one part of a flower; while the whole were fitted together in other workshops. Even these workshops are frequently limited to one single kind of flower each; so completely is the division of labor carried out. There were about 50 small manufacturers of petals and stamens, and other component parts, employing about 500 persons; while there were nearly 600 dealers or vendors, who employed nearly 6000 persons in building up the various integers into whole groups of flowers. Of this immense number of persons, about 5000 were women, whose average earnings were estimated at is. 8d. per day. Several of the manufacturers effect sales to the amount of £10,000 a year each. We must, therefore, regard French flower manufacturers as commercial men of notable import.J. W. T. [We here see borne out-what we have so long been harping upon-the fact of the "artificial" prevailing over the natural to a fearful extent. Artificial flowers are, by the multitude, preferred before garden flowers! It is so with everything else. To be natural, is to be "unfashionable;" consequently, it constitutes a crime !] Tight Lacing. The evils of tight lacing have recently been again very properly exposed. Among several cases of severe illness brought on by the pernicious practice, one death has been recorded; the coroner observing, that he feared the practice would never by out of date. Women's ideas about symmetry and beauty are strangely unnatural!-JOHN C.' [We have done our duty in warning our fair countrywomen of their folly; but the coroner is right-the practice of pinching the machinery of the body into an undue space, will never be out of fashion. Health and fashion hate each other. The number of pale, cadaverous faces that pass us daily, fully confirm the truth of what we say. Our women rather exist than live.] True, to acts of charity or to deeds of darkness. INGTON. Bells.-The great bell of St. Paul's, London, weighs 8400; the great bell of Lincoln 9894 pounds. Great Toni, in Christ Church, Oxford, the largest bell in England, weighs 17,000 pounds. The bell in Palaz Vecchio, at Florence, suspended 295 feet from the ground, weighs 17,000 pounds. The great bell of St. Peter's, at Rome, weighs 18,600 pounds. The bell at Erfuth, 28,200. But large as are these bells, they shrink considerably when compared with those of Russia. The bell in the tower of St. Ivan, in Moscow, weighs 100,000 pounds; and the fallen great bell which lies at the foot of the same tower, 443,772 pounds. Its height exceeds 21 feet, and its diameter at the rim is 22 feet. The metal in it is estimated to be worth about £70,000.-B. Peculiarities of the Pigeon.—About two months ago, a pigeon-fancier, who resided next door to us, removed. He took with him all his pigeons"save one; and nothing can induce that one to quit the premises. It has haunted the house ever since; nor can any kindness of mine win the creature from the spot. I feed it regularly every day; and at the sociable meal of "tea" it is sure to present itself at the window. If not immediately perceived, The World!-What an insignificant syllable it announces its presence by a tap at the glass, is this! and yet how important and imposing with its bill. I accidentally discovered that this in reality! It is one to which all bow the knee bird was very fond of bathing. Accordingly, I in adoration; subjecting themselves to its influence, provided a small tub for him, and this I fill reguand being fearful to violate its rules and regula-larly with water. You should see how he enjoys tions. It is at once the inciter to good, and to evil; the giver, and the destroyer. In all our transactions, whether relating to business or pleasure, the world is first consulted. Every one stops to consider what the world would think, do, or say; and each regulates his actions accordingly. The world occupies the chief position in every bosom. Everything is the world, and the world is everything! Follow the steps of the "Man of Fashion." Deaf to the voice of reason and prudence, he makes himself disagreeable, gives utterance to vain unmeaning flattery; in short, passes life in one dull, sickening round of dissipation. And why? Not on account of the pleasure it affords him, not because he prefers it to a more sensible and natural mode of life; but because he dreads to draw on himself the displeasure of the fashionable circle! For the same reason, men countenance hypocrisy and disguise poverty. Even lovers' will shun each other's society when in its dread and awful presence. Thus are mankind incited alike his bath! and he is so grateful for it! A few weeks since, a day passed away without my little friend making its appearance. This caused me much anxiety; however, on the morning following there it was again, and a companion with it! They "kept company" together for several days; and both came regularly to the window to be fed. However, the stranger began to feel dull, and away she went. Not so the other. It has been with me ever since, dividing its time between me and its desolate empty home. One thing puzzles me exceedingly; and that is--where my friend passes the night. There is no hiding place near; nor can I trace its place of retreat. How it escapes those midnight assassins, the cats, is little short of a miracle; for these vermin haunt our neighborhood as thickly as they used to do yours, until you commenced "thinning them out." Is it usual for pigeons thus to become attached to their old quarters ?-JANE W., Mile End. [Yes, Jane, it is quite usual, and "natural" to the pigeon so to cling to the place of its birth. We have known some remarkable instances of it; nor could any kindness entice the birds away. We would recommend you to have a small pigeonhouse made, with two holes, the cost will be trifling. Then procure another pigeon, and let the two become choice friends of yours. It is evident that your tender heart has fairly captivated the one; the other would as naturally yield to the same sweet influence. Kindness and affection, we know of old, are your chief characteristics. You are a "pet" of ours (this we hardly need tell you); although it is so long since we have received a communication from your pen. We hope the next is not far distant.] Observations on the Weather at Barnsley, during February.-The quantity of rain or snow which fell in the month of February is small, averaging but 1 inches, falling on twelve respective days, but sometimes in barely perceptible quantities: the greatest amount fell during the night of the 19th, one fourth of an inch; this had been preceded by a good fall of snow, on the 17th, followed by a sharp frost, on the 18th, producing ice on the shallow pools, from seven to thirteen inches thick. The barometer has ranged high; its greatest elevation being 30-50 inches, on the 13th and 14th; its lowest was twenty-nine inches, on the 17th; the general state of the weather has corresponded with that of the barometer. The lowest recorded position of the thermometer, in the town was 31°, on the 17th, in the country about 29°, lower probably during the night, the highest was 51 at mid-day on the 6th. The wind has been variable, the quarters from which it has principally blown are the W., NW., and N. by W.; often from these points with great force; we have had also S. by E. and SW. winds. In the month that is just gone by, there has been an interchange of cloudy and bright days; during some of tho latter, in the intervals of the boisterous gales, there was a joyous Spring feeling, with which our resident warblers have gladdened the woods and fields. The concerts of redwings and starlings had been occasionally noted, by the practised ear, through the winter-the small birds being generally silent-but when mellow note has cheered some districts. Young naturalists will do well to master the notes of these our home birds, to prepare for the Spring visitants after the close of the month, now commenced with such bright promise.-THOMAS LISTER, Barnsley, March 10th. A Peep at "April."-April is the year just verging into maidenhood, and still wearing something of the same girlish look; but a little more staid and shy than when she went romping about with the mad, wild winds of March. She wears a dress of sweet Spring green, that sets becomingly upon her round and budding form, and shows how graceful and comely she will be in the full Summer of her beauty. She is now called by the endearing name of Spring, and her delight is to wander abroad and watch the red and white blossoms of the fruit-trees open, and to see the bees issue forth in quest of the early flowers, while she listens to their low, melodious murmur; or to note what new birds come over the sunny sea every day, to that great mustering of music which is now awakening the echoes of our old English woods. Children, when they see her, rush out in the city streets, and on the village roads, and cry aloud, “Sweet Spring has come again;" while around her head the returning swallows twitter, and the bees make a buzzing about her feet among the violets, which are "sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes;" though not more blue and beautiful than her own, in which the light shifts and changes, just like her ever-changing April skies. Her long green garment is fringed with anemones and the white dewlike lilies of the valley; and spotted all over with silver daisies, which show like stars upon the ground of green; while her golden ringlets fall upon the blue-veined ivory of her neck like the flowers of the acacia stirring in the wind, and sparkling in the sunshine; and the hue of her fair complexion outrivals the red and white of her own April apple-blossoms. All her tastes are elegant, all her amusements innocent; and though changeable at times, and pouting her lips, while the tear, ever ready to fall, swims in the azure of her eye, still she is young and fair and beautiful, and all these changes become her well-for the tear that at one moment melts into sorrow, the next glitters in the it allures back the birds; and the silver-tongued sunshine of her smile. Her voice is so sweet, that nightingale when he hears it, thinking it is his mate which are haunted with old memories of music who calls, hurries back to the bowery hollows, and love. Now the bullfinches, though they reThis herald of the woodland chorus was "sweet ward us with a song, are busy among the buds and robin," on the first day of the thaw, January 17th, blossoms, selecting only the fruit-buds to feed upon; followed by the grey linnet, the common bunting, and the destruction they cause to the fruit is very the hedge-warbler or dunnock, the skylark, the great, as may be perceived by looking under a titmouse or bluecap, and the thrush-all before the tree on which they have been feeding, when the month closed. The lengthening days of February ground will be found strewn with the refuse of ushered in succesively the strains of the jenny the buds they have rejected; they are called wren, the storm-cock (both probably heard earlier "pick-a-buds" in many places, on account of their by other observers), the goldfinch (a treat never destructive habits. Anglers sally forth with fishexperienced by me, to hear this beautiful birding apparatus, this month, to the breezy river-sides, here in its free state-such havoc the gunners and netters make with our rarest birds!) and, lastly, as coming within my notice, the merry chaffinch or "spink," and the pleasing but monotonous yellow hammer. All our resident songsters, except the blackbird, have been heard; and doubtless his "The thaw-air breathed, first noiseless as a dream, Then a sweet voice, like Hope's, when long deferr'd The promise comes, burst from a new-wak'd bird, and the running streams that flow clear as silver through the daisy-diapered meadows. Pleasant it is to listen to the waving of the willow, the lapping of the water, the murmur of the bees, and the singing of the birds on a sunny morning in April, while standing on the river-banks and watching the ever-changing clouds that are mirrored in the water; or to see the reeds bending and bowing to one another, as if in play; while some huge fish rises and dimples the water, and sends the extending circle to the very shore, where the ripple rocks every wild plant that touches the current. T. MILLER. Little Children.-No man can tell, says Jeremy Taylor, but he who loves his children, how many delicious accents make a man's heart dance in the pretty conversation of these sweet pledges. Their childishness-their stammering-their little anger -their innocence-their imperfections-their necessities, are so many little emanations of joy and comfort to him that delights in their persons and society.-C, A. T. The Dormouse.-Much as you have recorded about the history of the Dormouse, I yet thirst to know more of its natural habits. Do they feed by day, principally; or do they prefer eating by night? Do they, when in confinement, suffer like ferrets, rabbits, &c., by having water given them to drink? I give mine water, and it grows fat upon it. Is this proper? She eats oysters too, if she can get them; and enjoys them more than I can tell you. Perhaps some of your readers will be able to tell us all about this.-MIMOSA. [Nuts, almonds, canary seed, bread soaked in milk and afterwards squeezed nearly dry, these are the staple food of dormice; but no doubt "tid-bits" of all kinds are welcome now and then. We shall be happy to insert any reply to the queries here put.] Things made only to be Looked-at.-I observe the following sensible remarks in one of your contemporaries, and I think them so adapted for the columns of OUR OWN, that I crave a corner for their reception :-"We sometimes catch ourselves wondering, how many of the young ladies whom we meet with are to perform the part of housekeepers, when the young men who now eye them so admiringly have persuaded them to become their wives? Taper fingers and lily-white hands are very pretty to look at with a young man's eyes; and sometimes, we have known the artless innocence of practical knowledge displayed by a young Miss, to appear rather interesting than otherwise. But life is full of rugged experiences; and the most loving, romantic, and delicate people must live on cooked or otherwise prepared food, and in homes kept clean by tidy and industrious hands. And for all practical purposes of married life, it is generally found that for the husband to sit and gaze at a wife's taper fingers and lily hands, or for a wife to sit and be looked at and admired, does not make the pot boil or put the food in the pot."-There is much good sense in the above, if people would only take a hint, kindly offered. What a pity it is, that usefulness should be accounted vulgarity; and outside appearances pass for virtue !-AMICUS. Royal Panopticon of Science and Art.--The Saracen building in Leicester-square, with its two minarets "pointing to the skies," has long been an object of curious interest to passers-by, and the scientific wonders of the interior are now revealed. decorated Entering the porch, in Leicester-square, we find ourselves in a vestibule beautifully ornamented with encaustic tiles and English alabaster; and passing through the inner porch, we come at once into the principal hall of the building,-a beautifully proportioned and brilliantly rotunda, 97 feet in diameter within the walls, and the same in height to the top of the dome, which, surmounts the centre. This dome, which is 72 feet in diameter, contains in the centre a circular light of 32 feet diameter, with sixteen smaller lights beneath; forming, with other glazed apertures, apparently ample provision for the admission of daylight. All these windows are provided with blinds, which are moveable by an ingenious application of pneumatic power. In a very brief space the daylight was completely excluded, and the effect of the building exemplified by gaslight. It is perhaps under this aspect that the interior appears to most advantage, as the varied and glittering ornamentation is softened and mellowed by the artificial light to a tone of subdued richness. The first object to strike the eye on entering, is a fountain of great dimensions and power. The base exhibits a beautiful specimen of enamelled slate, inlaid with gold mosaic bands; while the fountain itself consists of several jets, each playing upwards of 40 feet: with a central column of water, which is thrown to the extreme height of the dome. If the fountain first attracts the eye of the visitor, the grand organ at the east end of the rotunda will not fail, should it be playing, to assert and maintain its claims to be considered the great feature of the building. This magnificent instru ment presents but a small appearance, as compared with its real magnitude and capabilities; the greater portion of the works being dispersed on each side, so as to leave a space in the centre through which the lens of the optical diorama will cast its rays. Among the next objects of importance are, the gigantic electrical machine and Leyden battery of Mr. E. M. Clarke (the managing director of the institution), Sicard's diving apparatus, and the ascending carriage, by which visitors are conveyed up to the photographic rooms. Encircling the rotunda are two light galleries, occupied by stalls, containing various articles for sale; thus blending somewhat of the character of a bazaar with the other attractions of the place. Ample provision for carrying out the objects, appears to have been provided in the construction of lecture-rooms, laboratories, camera, and photographic rooms with extensive apparatus, and numerous models and machines, a detailed description of which is beyond the limits of a single visit.-FROM A CORRESPONDENT. The Religion of Convenience.—All men profess to have a conscience; and no doubt they get sundry twitches if they do not at all events make anoutside show of being good. Yet does daily observation prove their hypocrisy in the matter. Family worship is a mere bug-bear; the very servants ridiculing their masters and mistresses for their farcical attempt at sanctity-put off and on at will! Thackeray exposes this, charmingly, in "The Newcomes." At the sound, he says, of the 8 o'clock bell, the household is called together. The urns are hissing, the plate is shining; the father of the house standing up, reads from a tact with the skin; each of these particles, having a tendency to an equilibrium of temperature, takes heat from the skin; until they acquire the same temperature as the body which is in contact with them. When the surface of the glass, or perhaps the particles to some very small depth within it, have acquired the temperature of the skin, then the glass will cease to feel cold, because its bad conducting power does not enable it to attract more heat from the body. In fact, the glass will only feel cold to the touch for a short space of time after it is first touched. The same observation will apply to porcelain and other bodies which are bad conductors, and yet which are dense and smooth. On the other hand, a mass of metal, when touched, will continue to be felt cold for any length of time; and the hand will be incapable of warming it, as was the case with the glass. A silver or metallic teapot is never constructed with a handle of the same metal; while a porcelain teapot always has a porcelain handle. The reason of this is, that metal being a good conductor of heat, the handle of the silver or other metallic teapot would speedily acquire the same temperature as the water which the vessel contains; and it would be impossible to apply the hand to it without pain On the other hand it is usual to place a wooden or ivory handle on a metal teapot. These substances being bad conductors of heat, the handle will be slow to take the temperature of the metal; and even if it does take it, will not produce the same sensation of heat in the hand. A handle, apparently silver, is sometimes put on a silver teapot; but, if examined, it will be found that the covering only is silver; and that at the pointswhere the handle joins the vessel, there is a small interruption between the metallic covering and the metal of the teapot itself, which space is sufficient to interrupt the communication of heat to the silver which covers the handle. porcelain teapot, the heat is slowly transmitted from the vessel to its handle; and even when it is transmitted, the handle, being a bad conductor, may be touched without inconvenience. A kettle which has a metal handle cannot be touched, when filled with boiling water, without a covering of some non conducting substance, such as cloth or paper; while one with a wooden handle may be touched without inconvenience.Puss. gilt book for three or four minutes in a measured cadence. The members of the family are around the table, in an attitude of decent reverence; the younger children whisper responses at their mother's knees; the governess worships a little apart; the maids and the large footmen are in a cluster before their chairs, the upper servants performing their devotion on the other side of the side-board; the nurse whisks about the unconscious last-born, and tosses it up and down during the ceremony. I do not sneer at that at the act at which all these people are assembled it is at the rest of the day I marvel; at the rest of the day, and what it brings. At the very instant when the voice has ceased speaking, and the gilded book is shut, the world begins again; and for the next 23 hours and 57 minutes, all that household is given up to it. The servile squad rises up and marches away to its basement, whence, should it happen to be a gala day, those tall gentlemen at present attired in Oxford mixture, will issue forth with flour plastered on their bright yellow coats, pink breeches, sky-blue waistcoats, silver lace, buckles in their shoes, black silk bags on their backs, and I don't know what insane emblems of servility and absurd bedizenments of folly. Their very manner of speaking to (what we call) their masters and mistresses, will be a like monstrous masquerade. You know no more of that race which inhabits the basement floor, than of the men and brethren of Timbuctoo, to whom some among us send missionaries! If you met some of your servants in the streets (I respectfully suppose for a moment that the reader is a person of high fashion and a great establishment), you would not know their faces. You might sleep under the same roof for half a century, and know nothing about them. If they were ill, you would not visit them; though you would send them an apothecary and of course order that they lacked for nothing. You are not unkind, you are not worse than your neighbors. Nay, perhaps, if you did go into the kitchen, or take the tea in the servants' hall, you would do little good, and only bore the folks assembled there. But so it is. With those fellow Christians who have just been saying "Amen" to your prayers, you have scarcely the community of charity! They come you don't know whence; they think and talk you don't know what; they die, and you don't care, or vice versa. They answer the be.l for prayers, as they answer the bell for coals; for exactly three minutes in the day you all kneel together on one carpet-and, the desires and petitions of the servants and masters over, the rite called "family worship" is ended! There is much truth in these observations: and they hit hard, right and left. The professing world is full of these "performances;" hence the all but universal hypocrisy amongst high and low, rich and poor.-PHOEBE, Brighton. [These religious farces, Phoebe, are, you know, "fashionable as well as profitable !] In a A Word about the Draft in Chimneys.-When a fire is lighted in a stove-grate, the air in the chimney over it becomes heated by the fire, and is therefore lighter than the external atmosphere; consequently, it ascends. Thus is produced what is called a draft in the chimney, which is merely the upward current of air produced by the ascent of the heated air confined in the flue. When a grate has remained for some time without having a fire in it, the chimney, grate, &c. become cold; and when the fire is first lighted, it does not heat Peculiarities of Glass and Porcelain.-These the air fast enough to produce a current necessary substances, though among the worst conductors for the draft. Then, as the smoke will not ascend, of heat, generally feel cold to the touch. Dr. it issues into the apartment. This effect is often Lardner explains this as follows:-He says, attributed to the supposed foulness of the chimney, When the surface of glass is first touched, in instead of the above cause; for after the grate and consequence of its density and extreme smooth-flue become warm, the draft is restored, and the ness, a great number of particles come into con- chimney ceases to smoke.-CHARLES D. |