The Sun.
London, England, 1834-11-06 00:00:00

A POLYGLOT CORBIE.

One of our townsmen visited Edinburgh lately on
what may be called an educational errand—that is, to
inspect academies and schools, compare notes, converse
with teachers, and pick up hints for his own improve-
ment. Though his absence was short, he saw much
that pleased him, and, among other crack scholars,
stumbled upon a corbie who is master so far of three
different dialects. His instructor's attainments were

limited to Scotch, English, and Irish; and but for this
bar a pupil so apt might have become a very great
linguist, and qualified himself in time for a professor's
gown—made of silk as jet as his own feathers, but
still retaining his own hood, and the nous in the lining,
as the best of all wigs. When taken from the nest
among the cliffs of Salisbury, all he could say was
" caw "—a vernacular note he soon quitted, not only
as unmeet for ears polite, but as beneath the dignity of,
a lettered bird. Even now, therefore, if emancipated,
o.nd permitted to return to a state of nature, he would
make an admirable chairman of those quarter sessions
or crow courts, which his tribe are said to hold for the

trial and punishment of poachers and other delinquents.
But as he is too valuable to be thus parted with, such
as wish to see him, after this notice, will be pleased to
bend their steps to Holyrood and the King's Park,
calling at the house of Mr. James Johnstone, publican,
who will honour them with,an introduction to the rara
avis in question. And when in the presence chamber
they must be careful to stand on their P.'s and o..'s ;
for master corbie is a very large bird, has a quick
eye, and knows his own powers better than to permit
any thing in the shape of .over-familiarity. But the
owner, if at home, will show him somewhat after the
following manner Come away now, Sir, and tell
the gentlemen your name. What is it ?" " Arthur
boy," in as broad a Scottish accent as ever Cook as-
sumed in the Malt of the World. " Well, that will
do for Scotch,, 1)14 this gentleman is from England,
and you must let hint hear the music of his mother
tongue. "v " Attliur boy" again very beautifully ac-
cented. " Well, that's not amiss, but as we have. a
friend 'here from Ireland, you might do worse than give
him a touch of the brogue." Ans 4 no sooner said than
done, in a manner so racy that you might suppose the
bird mimicking a certain member of the O'Connell
tail. On one occasion, Mr. Johnstone, by way of
joke, asked a cockney if the hens in his country could
speak. " Blarney said the man ; " what do you
mean ?" " Mean ! why I mean exactly what I say ;
but if your hens are speechless, perhaps you have lots
of speaking ducks." " Nonsense," said the other
rather gruffly ; " never heard of such a thing in all
my life." " Indeed I" said Johnstone, " that's very
strange, considering that in Scotland the very crows
speak ;" and immediately called in his own one, and
gave the stranger proof positive of the fact. One trial
succeeded another, and included imitations of the mas-

tiff that barks, the cattle that low, and the sheep that
bleat ; and the Englishman, after being utterly dum-
founded, departed under the impression that learning
is so common in Scotland that it extends to the winged
tribes, if not the whole lower creation.—Dumfries
Courier.

BROWNLOW HOUSE.—The Noble Earl has adopted
the same sort of Venetian blinds for the outside of his mansion
as those adopted by the Duke of Wellington.

Tuesday afternoon as Mr. Jackson, of Brompton-
square, watchmaker, was driving in a gig along Piccadilly, ac-
companied by his wife, the horse took fright and galloped off
at its utmost speed. On reaching Hyde-park-corner, one of
the wheels of the gig came full in contact with that of a heavy
market-gardener's cart, and, the gig was literally smashed to
pieces, and Mr. and Mrs. Jackson thrown out into the road.
Mr. Jackson was taken up in a state of insensibility, having
sustained a dangerous contusion of the skull, and Mrs. Jack-
son dislocated her left shoulder ; they were both carried into
St. George's Hospital, where they received every requisite
assistance.

CHOLERA IN INVERNESS.—There have been no
cases since Thursday, so that the town may now be considered
entirely free from the disease, and the state of the weather
continues highly favourable. There have been two deaths of
the previous cases. The business of the town and neighbour-
hood, and social intercourse, have been resumed as formerly:
At Campbeltown the disease still lingers. A man named
Donald Fraser, his wife, and one of his children died there,
nearly at the same time, and were interred together on Monday
in the same grave—a striking and mournful circumstance. In
the district of the Aird there have been altogether eight cases
and four deaths.—lnverness Courier.
STRASBURGII CATHEDRAL.—Workinen are at
present busily engaged in restoring this cathedral. While
working inside the chapel of St. Laurent some of the men
discovered traces of very ancient painting as well as figures of
the middle ages, which it is intended to restore. The gilding
of some portions is very rich, and the mixture of blue and red
with it has a fine effect. The Journal du. Haut et Bas Rhin
says that in this --hapel their illustrious fellow-countryman
Kleber was buried, and proposes that the simple inscription—
Here lie the ashes of Kleber," should be put upon a slab of
marble over the small apartment which contains all that is
mortal of that man ; adding—and we hope this hint will be
acted upon—as who does not read with pleasure the inscrip-
tion, " In this house was born Kleber, in 1793."
FRENCH BON-MOTS.—Henri IV. reigned by bon-
mots—even Buonaparte made them. One evening, when he
was better pleased with Mdlle. Georges, the present heroine
of the Porte St. Martin, than usual, pulling her by the ear,
(which was his favourite endearment,) he told her, in the way
that emperors make love, " to ask for anything she wanted."
The actress rather mistaking her part, asked very sentimentally
for his Imperial Majesty's portrait. "Ohl if that is all you
want," said Napoleon, who rather disapproved of the familiari-
ty,—" if that is all you want,"—and he took a five frank piece
out of his waistcoat pocket, " here is my portrait, and a very
good likeness it is."—H. L. Bulwer's France. ,