So much for Chinese Romance.
Language of Animals.—The acuteness of the sheep’s ear surpasses all things in nature that I know of. An ewe will distinguish her own lamb’s bleat among a thousand all bleating at the same time, and making a noise a thousand times louder than the singing of psalms at a Cameronian sacrament in the fields, where thousands are congregated—and that is no joke either. Besides, the distinguishment of voice is perfectly reciprocal between the ewe and lamb, who amid the deafening sound run to meet one another. There are few things have ever amused me more than a sheep-shearing, and then the sport continues the whole day. We put the flock into the fold, send out all the lambs to the hill, and then send the ewes to them as they are shorn. The moment that a lamb hears its dam’s voice, it rushes from the crowd to meet her; but instead of finding the rough, well-clad, comfortable mamma, which it left an hour or a few hours ago, it meets a poor, naked, shivering—a most deplorable-looking creature. It wheels about, and uttering a loud, tremulous bleat of despair, flies from the frightful vision. The mother’s voice arrests its flight—it returns—flies, and returns again, generally for ten or a dozen times, before the reconciliation is fairly made up.—James Hogg.
Fighting Crickets.—In China the people take as much pleasure in cricket fights as the Spaniards do in bull fights. Two crickets are pitted against each other, and crowds of people gather round to witness the combat. The insects rush at each other with great fury, and the spectators, high and low, rich and poor, seem to experience the most lively sensations of delight.
Lying.—This is more common than some people suppose. A man who contracts a debt without a good prospect of paying it when due, is a liar. A man who gives his vote to serve a party, or to serve another person in disregard of public good, is a liar. A mercenary suitor for a lady’s hand, is a liar. An editor, who seeks in any way to make a false impression, is a liar of a thousand tongues.
Signs of the Zodiac.
In a former number of the Museum, I have told you about the Zodiac, but as I wish to make you remember all about it, I will just give you Mr. Cruickshanks’ notions on the subject. He is a merry fellow in London, and thus he draws the twelve signs, in his sportive humor:—
