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4.
THE WILD GOOSE.

Answers to Correspondents.


"Epicure." We do not profess to give lessons on cookery. The art of collaring is not understood by us: apply forward.

"A Timid Man" suggests that we should keep the captain and crew in good humour during our voyage to Fremantle; otherwise it may prove very difficult to get ashore if we arrive and they’re cantankerous (and there can’t anchor us). What reason has "A timid Man" to suppose that all hands will not get jolly when we reach Fremantle? But a man capable of maturing such an atrocious attempt at a jeu-de-mot, is base enough to think anything.

"Starveling" wishes to know how to preserve fruits, vegetables, meats, &c.—place them in a room, with a very strong door; keep a close eye on them, and don’t give any to anybody. Thus preserved they will last a very long time.

"Spooney."—Rejected.

SATURDAY, DEC. 7, 1867.


"They’ll come again when south winds blow."


Little Things.

It is said that the happiness and misery, the sweet and bitterness of life, are chiefly if not entirely, made up of small things; and a very slight refection will convince us of the truth of the aphorism. In the every-day intercourse of society, if we examine, we shall find its pleasures and pains are nearly, if not always the result of small causes. How often does a thoughtless, ill-natured word, lightly spoke, engender dislike, which eventually ends in hatred. It is the continual petty fret to one’s feelings, and a disregard to the small courtesies of daily life, that we find more galling and more difficult to bear than the open insult: the latter may be atoned for and forgiven, but the former grows like a canker, spreading over and destroying all social relations. It is harder to bear a continual speck of dust in the eye, or a perpetual toothache, than a broken leg or arm. it is the kind word, the cheerful smile of sympathy, and the small devoirs of life, that cement together our friendship, strengthen that band of brotherhood that should exist amongst all men, and smooths over the path of life. How often has a kind word,—a look, a tone, turned away wrath, and soothed us into forgetfulness of the most disagreeable troubles? A kind, encouraging word, and the current of a mans life is changed. He takes courage—the desponding one is rendered self-confident, and hope takes the place of despair. One rash judgement,—a suspicion unguardedly expressed,—and a character is blasted—it may be a soul lost. A cold look—a frown—and a heart is brighter. A loving glance—a smile—and the destiny of two hearts is fixed for ever. A tear—"One touch of nature makes the world a Kin."

If we examine why it is that certain men and nations are distinguished for ther cultivation and polish, we will invariably find that their excellence to consist or to rest in a much greater extent than at first sight appears, upon small things; and the surest mark,—the test of a higher state of cultivation and elegance—consists not "so much of things that strike us at first sight, but rather in small things, that diminish to almost microscopic importance as we ascend to the more polished state of refinement. We know a gentleman not by the costly richness or peculiar cut of his dress, or by the value of his jewelry,—not by his keeping his face and hands clean and his hair brushed; these tracts are common to all;—but rather, he is distinguished by his attention to much more minute things. So it is with perfection in any branch of trade or the Arts, and in all the diverse occupations of life,—when a man excels his competitors, we find it not the result of anything more extraordinary and striking than the possession of, or attention to, some small thing that gives him his prominence.