THE YOUTH’S CABINET.

 

The End of Trim.

 

BY J. P. M’CORD.

ERHAPS it seems to you, kind reader, | tached to so remarkable a bird. We

that you have heard of Trim be-

fore, though your recollections are

not very distinct. If you will
refer to an article entitled “The Two
Cocks,” in the fourth volume of the Casr-
Net, you may review all that has ever
been made public about him.

Poor Tease, the wicked fellow there
mentioned, soon met the fate deserved by
his deeds: he was sentenced to death,
executed, and surrendered to dissection.
But we hoped better’ things for Trim.
His amiable disposition secured our es-
teem; and our interest in him was in-
creased by his appearance before the
public, and the prospect of his becoming
famous. By the way, the likeness of him
which the editor furnished for the Cast-
net, has been pronounced by several a
very good one, though I doubt whether
the person who drew it ever saw the real
bird. Perhaps it was done in a magnetic
trance, if there is any such thing.

Trim was a gentle, teachable creature,
from his youth. A little pains soon made
him quite tame. He would at any time
eat from my hand, and suffer me to
stroke his fine glossy feathers. When he
saw me approach about the time of his
usual meals, he would frequently fly up
on my arm or head, to intimate his wish
for food. Nor is this the only proof of
his superior intelligence. I have known
him to prepare a nest, and then, by a
peculiar, coaxing note, to invite some
female friend to occupy it; nor would he
cease his efforts until he found them
rewarded with an egg.

It was hatural to become greatly at-

determined never to shed his blood, nor
to part with him. We found it expedient,
however, to remove him from his native
spot; but alas! he seemed to have left
some of his virtues behind him. At his
new residence were two or three quarrel-
some fellows, who. resolved to prevent his
settlement among them. We hoped that
Trim would nobly disdain their insults;
but somehow his evil passions carried
him away, and he rushed into bloody
strife. As he had to contend with one
foe after another, he was finally overcome;
and he went skulking about, with a sore
head, and scarcely able to see.

Having acted so out of character, we
reluctantly came to the conclusion that he
must die. Accordingly, after allowing
him suitable time for preparation, on 4
Friday in the beautiful spring-time, he
was brought to the block. I could hardly
force myself to execute him. The blood-
stains on my boots were painful to my
eyes as long as they remained.

I hope, reader, you will not imitate
Trim in the last acts of his life. If you
give way to wicked passions, you may be
sure that some evil will overtake you,
sooner or later.

The unhappy end of my favorite was
the occasion of the following little piece.
My pen has now done its duty to his
memory. Reguiescat in pace, as the
Latins would say.

THE DOOM OF A PET COCKE,

My bird, with wild, expressive mien,
His feelings frankly telling,

No more shall roam the sunny green,
With conscious beauties swelling.