THE NIGHTINGALE.
A charming songster of this species warbled its nightly music from a high tree in the corner of my garden. It generally began its jug-jug just after sundown, when it distinctly whistled the bass solo, "Now nurse and child are fast asleep," from Guy Mannering. The formation of the larynx prevented the lower notes from coming out with full effect, but the performance, in other respects, was perfect. Truth, however, compels me to add, that the bird did not, as has been asserted, whistle the words. The same nightingale, when he saw over the garden wall a gentleman staggering along, after a convivial party, used to whistle "We wont go home till morning," with great glee. I only observed it make a change once, when the air selected was, "Jolly companions every one."—William Kiddy, in the Gardeners' Journal.
The Height of Impudence.—Stopping a railway train to ask the Guard what o'clock it is.