is extremely acute, and it is probable that what we should not be able to discover without the aid of a microscope, is to them perfectly visible, and that they find food in the eggs of insects, &c., which we are totally unacquainted with. Among the few birds which sing at this season of the year, is the missel-thrush, or, as it is called by the country people, the storm-cock, whose early song is considered to denote a tempest. Its favourite food is the berry of the mistletoe; and there is a superstitious notion that the seed of the berry of this curious plant, which was gathered with such solemn ceremony by the ancient Druids, will not grow until it has first been swallowed by this bird-a belief which it is almost needless to state is wholly erroneous During the cold weather, the mole is busy working his way still deeper underground, for the further the frost penetrates, the lower he digs in quest of the worms which the cold has driven so far down; these are its favourite food. In the north of England it is still called the mouldi-warp, mole being a common expression for soil, and warp for the earth which is turned up. Thus, the silt, or mud, which is left by the tide on the side of rivers, is invariably called warp in the midland counties; the furrows in ploughed fields are also called warp; and newlyploughed land, warp-land. The word is pure, unaltered Saxon; and I have no doubt that the mole was called the mouldi-warp long before Alfred the Great sat upon the throne of Wessex. Those who are unacquainted with that curious structure called a mole-hill, have but a faint idea of the chambers and galleries, and courts and streets, which branch out beneath the little hillock they so often meet with during a country ramble. The encampment of the mole is its hunting-ground, its forest, its chase; in some one or another of these long, winding, underground avenues, it is sure to meet with prey; and the mole is a most persevering hunter, visiting his preserves many times during the day. It is always in excellent condition; and in the north, "fat as a mouldi-warp," is an old and common saying. It is not only a great eater, but also a great drinker; and, although it is not more than five inches long, will not hesitate to attack either a mouse, a bird, a lizard, or a frog. It will even prey upon its own species, when hard driven, as has been clearly proved, by placing two in a box, without a sufficiency of food. The celebrated naturalist, Le Court, has proved that the mole is not blind, although there is an imperfection in the development of the visual organ. The carrion-crows, which begin to build at the close of this month, vary greatly in their habits from the social-building and gregarious rooks; the former are regular pirates, ever keeping a sharp look-out from the mast-heads of the tall tree-tops, and ready with their great black wings to hoist all sail in a moment, and to give chase to whatever they see passing; for, to use a homely and expressive phrase, there seems nothing either "too hot or too heavy for them." Let either a hawk or a raven attempt to board them, and they will fight to the death; and so high were their pugnacious qualities estimated, when the cruel practice of cock fighting was in vogue, that trees were often climbed, and the eggs of the carrion-crow taken away, and those of some hen which had been brought up in company with the most celebrated game-cock in the neighbourhood, were left in the nest to be hatched, under the belief that the young cocks thus produced possessed more courage, and proved the best fighters. The carrion-crow, unlike the rook, is a very gross feeder, and will prey upon any offal or decayed animal matter it may chance to alight upon. The wood-pigeon is an early builder, and its slight, open. slovenly nest is often found with the two white eggs shining through the ill-covered bottom, long before spring has throw over the naked branches its garment ( green. The starling is another of our early builders, and the following anecdote. related by the Rev. Mr. Sladen, is a strong proof of the reason, or instinet, which this bird possesses. He states that one built under the eaves of a roof in the basin of a drain-pipe, and that the young. in their eagerness to obtain food, fell out of the nest. One was killed; the remain and thrown over them a beauty he is not permitted to destroy. Time came again, and so did spring; The spot once more with flowers was strown; Nor could he see a ruined thing, So tall and thick the buds had blown. ing two he picked up, and placed in a There is something very pleasing in gazing on the earliest flowers of spring; in the nawdrop, the crocus, the first primrose, and the violet, that seem to POETS AND FRUITS. DARWIN.- A melon; a pompous-looking fruit, imposing to the eye but insipid to the taste. GOLDSMITH.-A gooseberry; a fruit universally liked, and found ever in "De CHAUCER-A quince; only used by moderns to give a flavour to other ingredients. SPENCER.-A nut; an excellent kernel when you have cracked the shell of the allegory. SHAKSPEARE. A pine-apple; somewhat rough to the touch from the rust of antiquity, but the most exquisite of all fruits at the core. MILTON. An apple of his own paradise THOMSON.-A walnut; ripening in Autumn, but keeping good through all "The Seasons." GRAY-A peach; an excellent fruit, but soon over. THE WOMAN IN WHITE.-The great success of the stand upon the edge of winter, coming, as it were, with timid and fearful looks, like "unbidden guests," that, instead of receiving a warm welcome, dread being driven over the threshold again by winter; who sometimes claims to rule as host, although he hath already, in promise, given up possession to the sweeter-tempered spring. The early flowers of spring also bring with them sweet and sorrowful recent sensation novels, "The Woman in White," and "Great Expectations," renders interesting the recollections; they are fraught with the following extract, from a book published more than memories of childhood and youth; they thirty years ago-"Thoughts on Laughter, by a bring promise of brighter days, and we Chance y Barrister," and quoted in the "Saturday know that for a thousand years they have Woman in White." The description singularly reMagazine" for 1832, p 166, being indexed as "The bloomed by the old waysides of Eng-sembles the heroines of Wilkie Collins and Charles land as they do now, for on them Time Dickens, in the strange stories referred to:-"In leaves not his grey footmark. The daisy of men, women, and children; they were hooting walking through a street in London, I saw a crowd that peeps forth at the end of February is and laughing at a woman, who, looking neither to the ame, to look upon, as that which the right hand nor to the left, passed through the Chaucer worshipped, when, nearly five midst of them in perfect silence. Upon approaching her, I saw that all this derision was caused by hundred years ago, he went forth, and her dress, which, equally unsuited to the weather knelt lowly by its side, to do "observ- and to her apparent rank in life, was from head to ance to the spring." foot entirely white. Her bonnet, her shawl, her wore was of the coarsest materials, it was perfectly very shoes, were white; and though all that she clean. As I walked past her, I looked steadfastly in her face. She was very thin and pale, of a clamour around her. I have since learned her pleasing countenance, and totally unmoved by the story. The young man to whom she was betrothed died on the bridal day, when she and her companions were dressed to go to church. She lost her senses, and has ever since, to use her own words, been expecting the bridegroom. Neither insult nor privation of any kind can induce her to change her dress; she is alike insensible of her bereavement by death, and of the lapse of time. She is dressed for the bridal, and the Bridegroom is at hand.""-EDWARD W. HUDDLESTON. Beneath the green mounds which bury the remains of many a grey old abbey, and once stately castle, the innocent daisy still whitely waves. Time, which has, ages ago, hurled down the holy shrine and the strong battlement, has no power over the humble flower that yet blows above the ruined barbican and fallen keep. Though he hath levelled many a proud city to the earth, and dug the graves of many a stately temple, yet spring has again visited the spots he left desolate, THE LADIES' DEPARTMENT. CONDUCTED BY MADAME ROSALIE. THIS department will in future be somewhat extended, and embrace other kinds of work than that produced entirely by the needle. With our next number, we shall present our fair readers with a Coloured Pattern of a Slipper to be executed in Wool Work. The pattern will be sufficiently explanatory; young ladies do not, of course, need to be told how the stitches on the canvas are to be produced, there being but one stitch required, and that of the simplest character, from beneath the side on which the design appears. We shall be happy to receive from our lady correspondents any and every assistance they can render,-either in the shape of worked specimens, patterns on paper, or written descriptions of new kinds of work. These should be sent separately to the Editor, and marked LADIES' DEPARTMENT. We propose this plan for the benefit of those among our friends who are adepts in the use of the needle, the drawing pencil, &c., rather than the pen; and we confidently rely on their kind co-operation. NEEDLEWORK. THE collar here shown is a combination of two kinds of work, the regular Moderie, and the new "Broderie à la Minute.' The mixture of the two is more beautiful in effect than either separately. The open part is worked in the usual way, with Messrs. Walter Evans and Co.'s Royal Embroidery Cotton, No. 20; but underneath the edging of the scollops, there must be three or four threads of No. 14 passed along to raise it, so that the threads may spread out to the outer edge. The little spots, which give the name to the New work, is in Evans' Royal Embroidery Cotton, No. 8. They are very quickly lone, requiring only three or four single stitches to form the knott, the thread being passed from one to the other on the under side of the work. THE FASHIONS. THE favour with which plaid has been received is decidedly diminishing. Still the collets of plaid velvet, with fringe to match, are worn, although now rather an exceptional than a reigning fashion, as formerly. They are more generally made of cloth, or milled flannel, in patterns of wide black checks upon a violet or green ground, with chenille fringe of the two colours. Small paletots are also made of the same materials, and trimmed with fringe. Velvet rotondes in black, violet, or blue, as also in striped plush, are equally fashionable. Besides those of cloth or velvet, mantles of silk, lined and wadded, trimmed with wide guipure or passementerie mixed with beads, are worn; but, although very pretty, they are scarcely so suitable to the weather as materials of warmer appear A half-fitting casaque of Lyons cloth, with a rouleau of fur, has a very tylish effect. ance. Fur is admissible as a trimming, even rfull dress, though, of course, then ly worn by ladies who do not dance. Satin or velvet dresses of light colours are being made with trimmings of ermine, wan's-down, or grebe round the bottom of the skirt, and sometimes also on the body. They have an exceedingly rich and elegant appearance. Satin brocatelle, or velontine, is occasionally made with quite plain skirts. When trimmed, it must be either with fur, feathers, or lace. Upon a dress ci Mexico blue, or Empress mauve satin, two or three bands of feathers produce a splendid effect. Lace, also, is very much used with satin; and there are some exquisite lace tunics made for this purpose. Guipure is not so effective as Chantilly. Ruches, flounces, with narrow satin trimmings, butterfly bows, medallions, leaves of lace, and especially sementerie, are worn as trimming this winter. Passementerie are in great favour for vestes, which are trimmed with bands of it, forming braces. Upon Figaro vestes, the chief elegance is in the epaulettes, with jet beads ended with hanging ornaments. These are now made long and narrow, very much ornamented with embroidery of passementerie, terminating with a cut jet ornament. For visiting dress in rich materials, some persons have adopted the fashion of having the skirt made perfectly plain. Moires of a very large water are very much in vogue, especially the short moires. Those with a black ground and wide plaid satin stripes are also very handsome. A similar pattern is made in taffetas. It The flowing style of dress, called Louis XV., is that usually adopted for robe de chambre, or morning dress. is made with large plaits in the back. The form soutane-which is also used for morning dresses-is without large plaits, and has less fulness. For this reason, however, it is not so graceful. This garment, being especially reserved for morning wear, is usually made simply of cachemire, flannel, or alpaca. When plain, the colours preferred are iron grey, or deep blue. Others are made in black and white check or plaid. Wide bands, suiting the dress, are used as trimmings. A plaid band upon the iron grey; upon the blue or plaid, a band of taffetas or black velvet. For these simple robes de chambre can be substituted others of a richer descrip tion, as ponceau cachemire, covered with rich black braiding and passementerie, or plaid poplin, with velvet bands; or, still more elegant, plush with velvet, or quilted satin bands; this can only be in the Louis XV. style. Foulard formerly was considered a summer material; now it is worn so generally at all times of the year that we must not pass it by without notice. When of a dark shade it is especially useful for wet or dull weather, as it loops up so easily over the petticoat, and does not crumple. Violet and dark grey are the colours most preferred for walking dress. Those in cachemire patterns of palms, or arabesques upon stripes, are reserved for morning-at-home dress. Foulards, with white ground and coloured bouquets, or stripes, are charming for evening dress. The bonnets of the present season ought to please, we think, the most fastidious ladies, as they are so exceedingly becoming, being just large enough to form a framework round the face, and trimmed, both inside and out, without any exaggeration; so that we are almost tempted to wish they would remain as they are. BIRDS IN THEIR NATURAL To produce pictures of birds with their natural feathers is a very delightful and instructive employment. Take a thin board or panel of deal and smoothly paste on it two or three layers of white paper. When the paper is quite dry, get any bird you wish to represent, and draw its figure as exactly as possible on the papered panel: then paint what tree or groundwork you intend to set your bird upon, also its bill and legs, leaving the rest of the body to be covered with its own feathers. Next prepare that part to be feathered by laying on thick gum arabic, dissolved in water. Two or three coats of gum are necessary in order to produce a good body on the paper. When your design is so far produced, take the feathers off the bird as you use them, beginning at the tail and points of the wings, and working upward to the head, observing to cover that part of the draught with the feathers taken from the same part of the bird, letting them fall over one another in the natural order. You must prepare your feathers by cutting off the downy parts that are about their stems, and the large feathers must have the insides of their shafts shaved off with a sharp knife, to make them lie flat; the quills of the wings must have their inner webs clipped off, so that in laying them the gum may hold them by their shafts. When you begin to lay them, take a pair of steel pliers to hold the feathers in, and have some gum-water, not too thin, and a large pencil ready to moisten the groundwork by little and little, as you work it; then lay your feathers on the moistened parts, which must not be waterish, but only clammy, to hold the feathers. You must have prepared several leaden weights, which you may form in the shape of sugarloaves by means of a stick, by casting the lead in sand. These weights will be necessary to set on the feathers when you have merely laid them on, in order to press them into the gum till they are fixed; but you must be cautious lest the gum comes through and smears the feathers. Be cautious not to have your coat of gum too moist or wet. When you have wholly covered your bird with its feathers, you must, with a little thick gum, stick on a piece of paper, cut round, of the size of an eye, which you must paint like the eye of the bird; glass eyes, however, may be purchased at the naturalist's shops. When the whole is dry, dress the feathers all round the outline, and rectify defects in every other part. Then lay it on a sheet of clean paper, and a heavy weight, such as a book to press it; after which it may be preserved in a glass frame, and form a very pretty ornament. A CLEVER writer once remarked, that there is an out-of-the-way corner in every man's mind, where Superstition, like a dirty, slovenly housemaid, also, undoubtedly, is a little green spot in every sweeps up all sorts of bits and scraps; and there man's heart, which, though sometimes scorched by the breath of Passion, or made desolate by the storms of adversity, is still, even to the last day of life, ready to spring into bright and fresh verdure, i only placed under some reviving influence.-Dotta. |