PYE CORNER IN 1789. (See p. 118.) (From a Drawing in Mr. Gardner's Collection.)PYE CORNER IN 1789. (See p.118.) (From a Drawing in Mr. Gardner's Collection.)
Those who feel an interest in the modern methods of furnishing rooms will be glad to have their attention called to this street in the South Central Gallery. Here room after room has been equipped in the richest and most artistic fashion, and full advantage should be taken of this opportunity for comparison between styles of furnishing a house of the most varied character possible.
I cannot stay to mention even one-twentieth of the different exhibits. Little folk who have seen the Show will know it is not possible for me to do so here. There are foreign annexes full of interesting articles. The London Water Companies have a pavilion all to themselves. The South Gallery may be regarded as an elaborate model of the food of London. Then the British Beekeepers' Association will explain much of an instructive kind about the busy bee. In short, the whole Exhibition is so full of information of a useful and, in some cases, even of a delightful sort, that I must now leave the subject with the intimation of that fact.
Some time ago a child fell off Oreston Pier, near Plymouth, and had drifted out about seven yards in twelve feet of water, when a little boy, nine years old, named S. G. Pike, plunged into the sea with his clothes on, reached the child, and swam back with it to some steps, where they were both assisted out. Another boy, W. W. Haynes, aged twelve, saved the life of a child who had fallen from a bridge into the river at Llanberis, near a whirlpool. E. S. Deacon, a girl, twelve years old, rescued a lad from drowning at Blackpool, near Dartmouth. The boy had slipped off a rock and become unconscious, when Miss Deacon jumped into the water fully dressed, and succeeded in holding him up until help arrived. We are glad to know that the Royal Humane Society rewarded these brave children for their noble heroism.
A mare, with her young foal, was grazing in an orchard on an American farm, when she was noticed to run at full speed from a distant part of the orchard, making a loud cry—not like her usual voice, but a kind of unnatural "whinny," like a scream of distress. She came up to a farm servant, as near as a fence would allow, turned back for a short distance, and then returned, keeping up the shrill noise all the while. The man's curiosity became excited, and as soon as he started to follow her, she went off in the direction of a miry place that had been left unguarded, and stopped upon its very brink. Hurrying on as fast as he could, the man found the colt lying dead, suffocated in the mud and water. The poor mare had unfortunately been unable to procure his help—though she tried her best—in time to save her foal. This touching instance of maternal affection is a very interesting example of the way in which the "dumb" animals—as they are somewhat absurdly called—make up for the want of speech. The mare's strange cry and her extreme restlessness were as eloquent as words.
SOME BIRDS OF THE CAUCASUS. (See p. 121.)SOME BIRDS OF THE CAUCASUS. (See p.121.)
Partridges by any name would taste as sweet, and when you have learnt that the francolin is one of the few different kinds of partridge, you will have obtained the chief clue to the life-history of these birds. They may in a general way be defined as the representatives in various parts of Asia (as in India and the Caucasus mountains) and Africa, of the well-known family which is so diligently searched for in this country during the month of September. One sort of francolin is still to be met with in the countries of Europe that border on the Mediterranean. The bird was at one time common in Sicily, and it is yet to be found in the island of Cyprus. Some of them live on level plains, and others in forests. They differ from our partridge in that they studiously shun cultivated ground, preferring the proximity of woods, in which they carefully select damp spots overgrown with reeds. In time of danger they conceal themselves in the densest brushwood, out of which they do not emerge until the peril is past. Should no shelter be at hand, they will try to seek safety in flight, and will use their wings only in the last resort. Partridges, as we are all aware, are not averse from feeding many times and oft on grain; but the francolins, whose taste is not so fastidious, will not refuse to dine on the wild berries as well as on grain, while they hunt for worms and insects with a zeal worthy of the cause. Some of them have rather a fondness for perching and roosting on trees of a night, and they display the same affection for their young as partridges show for theirs. The cry is harsher and noisier than that of the latter. There is one sort which has a cry of so curious a description that a good deal of speculation has arisen as to its significance. It sounds like "Tre-tre-tre," and is meant, according to a prosaic Sicilian proverb, to be a declaration by the bird of its market value, which it assesses atthreecoins. Others have likened its cry to the harsh, grating blast of a cracked trumpet. Such being the case, it is just as well that we have no francolins in this country.
Officers' Names are printed in Small Capital Letters, and the Names of their Members are printed beneath. Where a short line, thus "——," is printed, the end of an Officer's List is indicated.