NOTE BY A COCKNEY NATURALIST
The common blackbeetles (Scarabæus niger) which so abundantly infest the culinary regions of Cockaigne are alleged to be agreeable, although profuse, in flavour, provided they be delicately larded before crimping, and then fricasseed or simply fried. Care should specially be taken not to injure their antennæ, which, when crisp with egg and breadcrumbs, exquisitely tickle the palate of the gourmet, and provoke him to the liveliest of gastronomic feats. There lurks in vulgar minds a savage prejudice against these interesting insects, by reason, very likely, of the popular impression that at times they have been manufactured into Soy. But this may be assumed to be mere idle superstition, and Soyer, the great chef, wisely set his face against it, remarking, as he did so, "Honi Soy qui mal y pense."
Among the warblers which abound in the vicinity of the metropolis, one of the most interesting is the little mudlark (Alauda Greenwichiensis) whose plaintive cry may nightly be heard upon the shore of the river, where these little creatures congregate in flocks, and pick up any grub which they may chance to meet with.
Doubts have been entertained by sundry Cockney naturalists whether the pyramids of oyster shells, which in the early part of August used to be noticed in the streets, should be regarded as a proof of the migratory habits of the mollusc. That the oyster is a sluggard and objects to leave his bed seems pretty generally admitted; but that he is endowed with the power of locomotion has, fortunately for science, been placed beyond a doubt. Whether oysters shed their shells when they are crossed in love is a point on which the naturalist is still somewhat in the dark.
Self-evident.—It must have been a cockney who said that St. Bees came from St. 'Ives.
A Dead Letter.—Too often H.
"I say, Bill, 'ere comes two champion doners! Let's kid 'em 'at we're hofficers!"
