<SPAN name="startofbook"></SPAN>
<h1 class="ac" style="margin-bottom:2em;">BIRDS AND ALL NATURE.</h1>
<p class="ac" style="margin-bottom:2em;"><span class="smaller">ILLUSTRATED BY</span>
COLOR PHOTOGRAPHY.</p>
<div class="vlouter">
<div class="volumeline">
<div class="volumeleft"><span class="sc">Vol. VII.</span></div>
<div class="volumeright"><span class="sc">No. 3.</span></div>
<div class="ac">MARCH, 1900.</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<h2><SPAN name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></SPAN>CONTENTS.</h2>
<table class="toctable" id="TOC" summary="CONTENTS">
<tr>
<td class="c1"> </td>
<td class="c2"><span class="sc">Page</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#THE_ENGLISH_SPARROW">THE ENGLISH SPARROW.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">97</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#THE_PEACOCK">THE PEACOCK.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">98</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#THE_SONG_OF_THE_LARK">THE SONG OF THE LARK.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">101</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#THE_HERALD_OF_SPRING">THE HERALD OF SPRING.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">102</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#MARCH">MARCH.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">103</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#TAMING_BIRDS">TAMING BIRDS.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">103</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#THE_WILLOW_PTARMIGAN">THE WILLOW PTARMIGAN.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">107</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#ANIMAL_PETS_IN_SCHOOL">ANIMAL PETS IN SCHOOL.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">108</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#BAILEYS_DICTIONARY">BAILEY'S DICTIONARY.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">109</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#STELLERS_JAY">STELLER'S JAY.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">110</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#LINEN_FABRICS">LINEN FABRICS.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">113</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#THE_SYCAMORE_WARBLER">THE SYCAMORE WARBLER.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">116</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#THE_RUDDY_DUCK">THE RUDDY DUCK.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">119</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#WINGS">WINGS.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">119</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#I_KNOW_NOT_WHY">I KNOW NOT WHY.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">119</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#THE_BRAVE_BOAR">THE BRAVE BOAR.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">120</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#GETTING_ACQUAINTED_WITH_THE_TEACHER">
GETTING ACQUAINTED WITH THE TEACHER.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">121</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#THE_MUSKRAT">THE MUSKRAT.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">122</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#NOT_A_SPARROW_FALLETH">"NOT A SPARROW FALLETH."</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">125</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#THE_TREATING_OF_WHITEY">THE TREATING OF WHITEY.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">127</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#THE_POPPY">THE POPPY.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">128</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#THE_PRIMROSE">THE PRIMROSE.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">134</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#THE_EGRETS_YOUNG">THE EGRET'S YOUNG.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">137</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#SPONGES">SPONGES.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">138</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#COMMON_MINERALS_AND_VALUABLE_ORES">
COMMON MINERALS AND VALUABLE ORES.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">139</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#THE_YOUNG_NATURALIST">THE YOUNG NATURALIST.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">143</td>
</tr>
</table>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</SPAN></span></p>
</div>
<h2><SPAN name="THE_ENGLISH_SPARROW" id="THE_ENGLISH_SPARROW"></SPAN> THE ENGLISH SPARROW.</h2>
<p class="ac">F. S. PIXLEY.</p>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">You may talk about th' nightingale, th' thrush 'r medder lark,</div>
<div class="verse">'R any other singin' bird that came from Noah's ark;</div>
<div class="verse">But of all feathered things thet fly, from turkey-buzzard down,</div>
<div class="verse">Give me the little sparrer, with his modest coat o' brown.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">I'll admit that in th' springtime, when th' trees 're gettin' green,</div>
<div class="verse">When again th' robin red-breast 'nd th' bluebird first 're seen;</div>
<div class="verse">When the bobolink 'nd blackbird from th' southland reappear,</div>
<div class="verse">'Nd the crow comes back t' show us that th' spring is really here—</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">I'll admit that in the <i>springtime</i>, when the groves with music ring,</div>
<div class="verse">Natur' handicaps th' sparrer; he was never taught to sing;</div>
<div class="verse">But he sounds th' Maker's praises in his meek 'nd lowly way;</div>
<div class="verse">'Nd tho' other birds come back at times, <i>he</i> never goes away.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">There's a cert'in sort o' people thet, when th' skies 're bright,</div>
<div class="verse">Will hang around 'nd talk about their friendship day 'nd night;</div>
<div class="verse">But if things cloudy up a bit 'nd fortune seems t' frown,</div>
<div class="verse">They're sure t' be th' first t' kick a feller when he's down.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">So when the summer skies 're bright it's easy 'nough t' sing;</div>
<div class="verse">But when it's cold 'nd rains 'r snows it's quite a diff'rent thing.</div>
<div class="verse">In autumn, when th' nippin' frosts drive other birds away,</div>
<div class="verse">Th' sparrer is th' only one with nerve enough t' stay.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">'Nd even in midwinter, when th' trees 're brown 'nd bare,</div>
<div class="verse">'Nd th' frosty flakes 're fallin' thro' th' bitter bitin' air,</div>
<div class="verse">Th' sparrer still is with us—t' cheer us when we're glum,</div>
<div class="verse">Fer his presence is a prophecy of better days t' come.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Th' sparrer's never idle, fer he has t' work his way;</div>
<div class="verse">You'll always find him hustlin' long before th' break o' day.</div>
<div class="verse">He's plucky, patient, cheerful, 'nd he seems t' say t' man,</div>
<div class="verse">"I know I'm very little, but I do th' best I can."</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">What more can you 'nd I do than t' always do our best?</div>
<div class="verse">Are we any more deservin' than th' "little British pest?"</div>
<div class="verse">So, when you talk of "feathered kings" you'd better save a crown</div>
<div class="verse">Fer the honest little sparrer, with his modest coat o' brown.</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</SPAN></span></p>
</div>
<h2><SPAN name="THE_PEACOCK" id="THE_PEACOCK"></SPAN>THE PEACOCK.</h2>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse">With pendant train and rustling wings,</div>
<div class="verse">Aloft the gorgeous peacock springs;</div>
<div class="verse">And he, the bird of hundred dyes,</div>
<div class="verse">Whose plumes the dames of Ava prize.</div>
<div class="verse ar">—<i>Bishop Heber.</i></div>
</div></div>
<div class="p2">
<ANTIMG class="drop-cap" src="images/initial_i.jpg" alt="" /></div>
<p class="drop-cap">IT WAS a saying among the ancients,
"As beautiful as is the peacock
among birds, so is the tiger among
quadrupeds." The birds
are of many varieties, some white, others
with crests; that of Thibet being
considered the most beautiful of the
feathered creation. The first specimens
were brought to Europe from the East
Indies, and they are still found in flocks
in a wild state in the islands of Java
and Ceylon. The common people of
Italy describe it as having the plumage
of an angel, the voice of a devil and the
intestines of a thief. In the days of
king Solomon his navies imported from
the East apes and peacocks, and Ælian
relates they were brought into Greece
from some barbarous country, and that
a male and a female were valued at a
hundred and fifty dollars of our money.
It is said also that when Alexander was
in India he saw them flying wild on the
banks of the river Hyarotis, and was so
struck with their beauty that he imposed
a fine on all who should slay or
disturb them. The Greeks were so
much taken with the beauty of this
bird, when first brought among them,
that it was shown for money, and many
came to Athens from surrounding countries
to see it. It was esteemed a delicacy
at the tables of the rich and great
and the birds were fatted for the feasts of
the luxurious. Hortensius, the orator,
was the first to serve them at an entertainment
at Rome, and they were
spoken of as the first of viands. Barley
is its favorite food, but as it is a proud
and fickle bird there is scarce any food it
will at all times like. It lays waste the
labors of the gardener, roots up the
choicest seeds, and nips favorite flowers
in the bud. He requires five females
to attend him, often more. The peahen
is compelled to hide her nest from
him that he may not disturb her sitting.
She seldom lays above a dozen eggs,
which are generally hatched about the
beginning of November. Though the
peafowls invariably roost in trees, yet
they make their nests on the ground,
and ordinarily on a bank raised above
the common level. The nest consists
of leaves and small sticks. From January
to the end of March, when the corn
is standing, the flesh is juicy and tender,
but during the dry season, when the
birds feed on the seeds of weeds and
insects, it becomes dry and muscular.</p>
<p>In some parts of India peacocks are
extremely common, flocking together
in bands of thirty and forty in number,
covering the trees with their splendid
plumage and filling the air with their
dissonant voices. Captain Williamson
mentions that he saw at least twelve or
fifteen hundred from where he stood.</p>
<p>Peacocks are very jealous of all
quadrupeds, especially of dogs. When
they are discovered in a tree situated
on a plain, if a dog is loose and hunts
near it, the birds will rarely move but
will show extreme uneasiness. One of
these birds in the north of Ireland was
a curious mixture of cruelty and fun.
He had four mates but he killed them
all successively by pecking them to
death, for what cause no one could ascertain.
Even his own offspring shared
the same fate, until his owner placed
the peafowl's eggs under a sitting hen
and forced her to hatch the eggs and
care for the young. His great amusement
was to frighten the chickens.
There were two iron troughs in which
the food for the chickens was placed
daily. No sooner had they gathered
about them, when the peacock would
erect his train, rattle his quills together
with that peculiar rustling sound that
is so characteristic of these birds,
and march slowly toward them. The
poor little chicks would slowly back
away from the troughs as the peacock
advanced, not wishing to lose sight of
the food yet not daring to remain in
defiance of their persecutor. By degrees
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</SPAN></span>
he got them all into a corner,
crouching together and trembling when
he would overshadow them with his
train, place the ends of the feathers
against the wall so as to cover them,
rattle his quills, in order to frighten
them, and then strut off proud of the
trick he had played. He did not care
for the food which he left untouched.</p>
<table class="sp2 mc w50" title="PEACOCK.">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td colspan="3"><span class="ac w100 figcenter">
<SPAN name="i_005.jpg" id="i_005.jpg"> <ANTIMG style="width:100%"
src="images/i_005.jpg" alt="" /></SPAN></span>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30">FROM COL. F. NUSSBAUMER & SON.<br/>
A. W. MUMFORD, PUBLISHER, CHICAGO.</td>
<td class="x-smaller ac w40">PEACOCK.<br/>
⅛ Life-size.</td>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30">COPYRIGHT 1900, BY<br/>
NATURE STUDY PUB. CO., CHICAGO.<br/>
CHICAGO COLORTYPE CO.</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<p>The peacock's disposition is as variable
as that of many other creatures,
some being mild and good-tempered,
while others are morose and jealous in
the extreme. His train, though popularly
called his tail, is in reality composed
of the upper tail coverts, which
are enormously lengthened and finished
at their extremities with broad, rounded
webs, or with spear-shaped ends. The
tail feathers are of a grayish brown
color seven or eight inches in length,
and can only be seen when the train is
erected, that being its appointed task.
The female is much smaller than her
mate and not nearly so handsome, the
train being almost wanting, and the
color ashy brown, with the exception
of the throat and neck, which are green.</p>
<p>The peacock lives about twenty
years and the beautiful variegated
plumage of the male's train appears
about the third year after birth.</p>
<hr class="chap" /></div>
<h2><SPAN name="THE_SONG_OF_THE_LARK" id="THE_SONG_OF_THE_LARK"></SPAN> THE SONG OF THE LARK.</h2>
<p class="ac">ADA M. GRIGGS.</p>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">The peasant girl, her feet all bare,</div>
<div class="verse">With her rustic grace, has a noble air.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">She's queen of the stubble-field and she,</div>
<div class="verse">In mind, is free as the lark is free.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Her thought, above all meaner things,</div>
<div class="verse">Is soaring with the lark that sings.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">No hampered child of the city streets,</div>
<div class="verse">Who bows his head whomsoe'er he meets,</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Who toils for a pittance with little rest,</div>
<div class="verse">But should envy the freedom in this breast.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">She's the child of nature; vice does not lure;</div>
<div class="verse">She's clothed upon with a life that's pure.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">The wholesomeness of her atmosphere</div>
<div class="verse">Does more for man than his logic drear.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Who delves in books' philosophic lore,</div>
<div class="verse">Sees nature's problems—but little more.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">'Tis God's own child who has eyes to see</div>
<div class="verse">What is closed to the eye of philosophy.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">The artist who dabbles with color and brush</div>
<div class="verse">Sees but the reflection of nature's flush.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">The skilled musician knows not pure tone;</div>
<div class="verse">He hears but the resonance of his own.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">'Tis the peasant girl, as she hurries along,</div>
<div class="verse">Who hears the lark's good morning song.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">She hears it with gladness; her heart is gay;</div>
<div class="verse">All nature greets her in festal array.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">The lark makes her world a world of song</div>
<div class="verse">His notes in her heart sing her whole life long.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">She's the true musician, artist and seer;</div>
<div class="verse">She looks upon nature with vision clear.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">The lark brings her day without shade or sorrow,</div>
<div class="verse">And crowns each day with a sweet tomorrow.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">He gives a joy only nature can,</div>
<div class="verse">A boon sent down from heaven to man.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">O little lark, sing on! sing on!</div>
<div class="verse">The country dark new life will don.</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">The tones thou'lt hurl from thy tiny heart</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Peace will unfurl and new joy impart.</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</SPAN></span></p>
</div>
<h2><SPAN name="THE_HERALD_OF_SPRING" id="THE_HERALD_OF_SPRING"></SPAN> THE HERALD OF SPRING.</h2>
<p class="ac">CHARLES E. JENNEY.</p>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Before the snow flies</div>
<div class="verse">A bit of Summer skies</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Comes flitting down</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Through Winter's frown</div>
<div class="verse">To cheer up waiting eyes.</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<div class="p2">
<ANTIMG class="drop-cap" src="images/initial_o.jpg" alt="" /></div>
<p class="drop-cap">ONE gray February day, when
dirty patches of snow are still
lingering on the north side of
rocks and walls, as you gaze
across a dreary landscape, you espy a
bit of bright color on the bar-post that
brightens up your spirit. 'Tis the first
bluebird, and that means that spring is
coming. His cheery little ditty seems
to say, "Spring is coming, spring is
coming, spring is here." He has been
farther south during the winter, for he
seldom stays in Massachusetts in December
and January and he thinks it a
little chilly just now, for his feathers
are all fluffed up around him so that
he looks like an animated dumpling.</p>
<p>He has come back to locate his nest
site—to see first if the old nest hole of
past years is suitable, for he is a great
home-lover, and, if not, to select a
new one.</p>
<p>In March you will see the bluebirds
often investigating rotten bar-posts,
hollow cedars, old woodpecker holes,
and decayed apple-tree stumps. And
in the latter part of the month the
females are with them.</p>
<p>Then one April day Mr. Bluebird
sings always from a limb of a certain
apple-tree, and down in the trunk, in
an abandoned woodpecker's hole, are
four pretty light blue eggs.</p>
<p>Every old orchard has its family of
bluebirds, and they come back to the
same nest every year until something
happens to scare them away from
it. A rotten bar-post or fence rail is
a promising site also, and they peck
out a hole with their short bills and
round it out quite as neatly as that
feathered carpenter, the woodpecker.
When they get in a little ways you
may see the chips flying out of the
aperture, though no worker is in sight,
and when it is almost done every now
and then a blue head will pop out with
a beak full of loose wood, which is
tossed away. Then a few clean chips
are left and the bird's own soft down
lines the home.</p>
<p>Often they will make use of wooden
boxes set on poles or placed in the
trees for their benefit. They are very
quiet, peaceful birds, so the entrance
to their homes should never be much
larger than their own small bodies require
for admittance.</p>
<p>The scrubby cedars that grow along
the New England coast make excellent
nooks and corners for the bluebird's
home and the berries provide him with
food late in the season. I have even
found a pair nesting in a cedar grove
on the extreme end of a rocky point
exposed to the full force of the southeast
storms that sweep up Buzzard's
bay. Usually, however, they prefer the
green fields and orchards of further
inland.</p>
<p>One pair for five or six years nested
in a hollow about twelve inches deep
formed in the crotch where a cedar
tree branched into two parts. It could
not have been a comfortable or well-chosen
home, for it was open to the
weather at the top and it would seem
as if it must be flooded in a heavy rain-storm.
But it was only abandoned by
the birds when it had become known
to every boy and egg collector in the
village as the hereditary estate of this
family.</p>
<p>During April and May the bluebird
is everywhere visible and audible, but
in midsummer he is not so often seen.
He is essentially a bird of the spring
with us. His familiar contemporaries
are the catbird and the robin, but he is
the earliest in the year of them all.
Sometimes, though not often, he stops
all winter with us, and his red breast
warms the winter landscape which it
dares to challenge.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>See him dash from that old fence
post after a mouthful of flies or gnats;
or hopping from twig to twig in the
cedar tree, selecting the choicest of
the spicy berries. Sometimes he will
venture in among the crowd of talkative
sparrows that are harvesting the
crumbs in your dooryard, but if they
dispute his right he keeps away. The
piece of suet hung in the tree near the
bird-box, however, is his own, and he
views the intruding buntings and trespassing
jays from his front porch or
dormer window with much indignation.</p>
<p>However, he says very little, uses no
bad language like that of the jay, and
soon regains the sereneness of temper
natural to him. And we like him all
the better for it, for, although it is not
nice to be imposed upon and we like
to see offenders get their deserts, the
one who takes life cheerfully and uncomplainingly
overlooks or forgets the
wrongs he cannot right is the one we
like to have as a friend.</p>
<hr class="chap" /></div>
<h2><SPAN name="MARCH" id="MARCH"></SPAN>MARCH.</h2>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">It is the first day of March,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Each minute sweeter than before;</div>
<div class="verse">The red-breast sings from the tall larch</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">That stands beside the door.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">There is a blessing in the air,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Which seems a sense of joy to yield</div>
<div class="verse">To the bare trees, and mountains bare,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">And grass in the green field.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Love, now a universal birth,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">From heart to heart is stealing,</div>
<div class="verse">From earth to man, from man to earth;</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">It is the hour of feeling.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">One moment now may give us more</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Than fifty years of reason;</div>
<div class="verse">Our minds shall drink at every pore</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">The spirit of the season.</div>
<div class="verse ar">—<i>Wordsworth.</i></div>
</div></div>
</div>
<hr class="chap" /></div>
<h2><SPAN name="TAMING_BIRDS" id="TAMING_BIRDS"></SPAN>TAMING BIRDS.</h2>
<p class="ac">GUY STEALEY.</p>
<div>
<ANTIMG class="drop-cap" src="images/initial_b.jpg" alt="" /></div>
<p class="drop-cap">BUT very few of the boys and girls
who watch the many species of
our birds flit about in the summer
time and who listen in delight
to their singing, know that by expending
a little time and patience
they can make these sweet songsters
quite tame. I do not mean that the
birds are to be caught and confined; I
never could bear to see a bird in captivity,
and indeed most wild ones will
live but a brief time when so served,
but that they can be made gentle in
their natural state. Where I live, in the
Rocky Mountains, there are countless
numbers of birds throughout the spring
and summer months and, being a great
lover of them, I have naturally observed
their habits closely. Trusting, therefore,
that some of the boys and girls
who entertain the affection for them
that I do, will see these lines, I venture
to give some of my experiences along
the path of bird-life.</p>
<p>Some five years ago I constructed
several miniature cottages, with verandas,
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</SPAN></span>
chimneys and all, and placed them
on the fences around our garden. The
first season two pairs of wrens selected
and occupied two of them; a third was
chosen by a pair of bluebirds, and the
fourth left vacant. Wrens, as you all
know, are never much afraid of anyone,
but bluebirds are inclined to be shy.
After a short time, however, the pair I
spoke of would alight within a few feet
of where I was weeding vegetables, and
soon came to know that where the
ground was freshly turned, there were
to be found the most worms. Before
the summer was over the wrens
and bluebirds and I were the firmest
of friends. Daily they ran and
hopped and peeped under the plants
and flowers. And besides giving me
their companionship they did a vast
amount of good in the garden by keeping
it clear of bugs and worms. It was
astonishing the number of these they
carried to their little ones.</p>
<p>But time stops not, and finally there
came cold and frosty nights that warned
my little friends, now comprising three
families, that the day of their departure
for warmer lands was drawing near; and
soon I was all alone.</p>
<p>Every year since then has been a repetition
of this first, only that I have
more houses around now and consequently
more tenants. I firmly believe
too, that the first three couples still return
to their old homes, for the same
houses are taken by the wrens every
spring and the same one by the bluebirds.</p>
<p>During the winter also, I sometimes
have a few bird pets, though they are
others than snow birds. The latter I
have never been able to make friends
with. When the weather is severe I
often try to feed them, but with poor
success, as they are always very wild.
The pets I have reference to are bluejays
and campbirds, or as they are more
usually called, camp-robbers. Both
species stay here the year around.</p>
<p>Last winter I had a laughable time
with them. Shortly after the first snow
I noticed a pair of camp-robbers—they
seem to go in pairs both summer and
winter—around our meat-house. If you
have never seen them you cannot know
what comical birds they are, so solemn
and innocent appearing, yet when it
comes to stealing—well, they are the
greatest and boldest thieves you can
find. If they are about and you chance
to have anything eatable around and
turn your back for a moment you are
pretty sure to find it gone when you
look again. I remember while camping
one fall, of seeing one of them dart
down from a tree and take a slice of
meat right out of the frying-pan on the
fire! But it was too hot to hold long,
and Mr. Camp-robber was obliged to
relinquish his dainty dinner before
reaching his perch again. Arriving
there he sat for a long while, looking
down at me with a wry face.</p>
<p>But I am digressing, and must get
back to my story of the camp-robbers
and the meat-house.</p>
<p>A few days after I first saw them, I
went in the house to cut some meat for
dinner; while there one of the robbers
alighted on a bench placed at the
side of the door, and stood peeping in.
I cut a small piece of meat and tossed it
on the step and in a second he had
pounced on it and was away. Everyday,
from that time on, just at noon,
the pair of them would be watching for
me, and I made it a rule to put some
small pieces of meat or bread on the
steps at that hour of the day. As soon
as I retreated a little way they would
secure them and fly off.</p>
<p>After they had been with me about a
month, a bluejay happened along one
day, and seeing them at their meal, invited
himself to partake of part of it.
The camp-robbers seemed somewhat
angry at this, but did not venture to
remonstrate. The next day there were
two bluejays and by the end of a week
I had two camp-robbers and seven bluejays
looking to me for their daily dinners.</p>
<p>I fed the whole company all winter
and when spring came the camp-robbers
would almost take food from my
hands; in fact they seemed to look to
me for protection, when eating, from
the bluejays, who were rather overbearing
and wanted more than their share.</p>
<p>Whether they will visit me this winter
I know not, but I <i>do</i> know that I
should be glad to see them again.</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</SPAN></span></p>
<table class="sp2 mc w50" title="WILLOW PTARMIGAN.">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td colspan="3"><span class="ac w100 figcenter">
<SPAN name="i_025.jpg" id="i_025.jpg"> <ANTIMG style="width:100%"
src="images/i_025.jpg" alt="" /></SPAN></span>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30">FROM COL. F. F. SPREYNE.<br/>
A. W. MUMFORD, PUBLISHER, CHICAGO.</td>
<td class="x-smaller ac w40">WILLOW PTARMIGAN.<br/>
½ Life-size.</td>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30">COPYRIGHT 1900, BY<br/>
NATURE STUDY PUB. CO., CHICAGO.</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</SPAN></span></p>
</div>
<h2><SPAN name="THE_WILLOW_PTARMIGAN" id="THE_WILLOW_PTARMIGAN"></SPAN>THE WILLOW PTARMIGAN.<br/> <span class="xx-smaller"><span style="font-weight:lighter;"> (<i>Lagopus lagopus.</i>)</span></span></h2>
<p class="ac">C. C. M.</p>
<div>
<ANTIMG class="drop-cap" src="images/initial_i.jpg" alt="" /></div>
<p class="drop-cap">IT has been claimed by some ornithologists
that this species of
grouse is not to be found in this
country, but it is now well established
that it may be found in northern
portions of New Hampshire and northern
New York. In summer it is distributed
throughout Arctic America.
It breeds abundantly in the valleys of
the Rocky Mountains on the Barren
Grounds and along the Arctic coasts.
Davie, who is probably the best authority
we have, says that the winter
dress of this beautiful bird is snow
white, with the central tail feathers
black, tipped with white. In summer
the head and neck are yellowish red,
back black, barred rather finely with
yellowish brown and chestnut, although
the most of the wings and under parts
remain white as in winter. Large numbers
of the willow ptarmigan are said
in the winter to shelter in willow
thickets and dwarf birches on the
banks of lakes and rivers, where they
feed on the buds of the smaller shrubs
which form their principal food at that
season. Their favorite resorts in day
time are barren, sandy tracts of land,
but they pass the nights in holes in
the snow. When pursued by sportsmen
or birds of prey they dive in the
loose snow and work their way beneath
its surface.</p>
<p>Nests of this species have been found
in the Anderson River region early in
June and as late as June 24. Others
have been found on the banks of the
Swan River as late as June 27. One
nest was observed July 10 which contained
ten perfectly fresh eggs, and
another set of eggs was examined July
22, the contents of which were slightly
developed. The nests were mere depressions
in the ground, lined with
leaves, hay, and a few feathers from
the birds themselves. These birds
often occupy the same nest in successive
seasons. Ten eggs are usually
laid, though the female is said to lay
as many as sixteen. The eggs have
a ground color varying from yellowish
buff to deep chestnut-brown, more or
less sprinkled, speckled, spotted, or
marbled with rich brown or black.
The average size is 1.78 by 1.25.</p>
<p>Hallock says that the various species
of ptarmigan are all Alpine birds, and
are only found in the North and on the
highest mountain ranges. They are
to be distinguished from all other
members of the grouse family by the
dense feathering of the tarsus and toes,
by turning white in winter and by the
possession of only fourteen tail feathers.
The bill is very stout and the
tail always black. The length of the
ptarmigan is about sixteen inches. It
is a most delicious article of food,
whether roasted, stewed, or in white
soups. It is said that visitors to Newfoundland
assert that the flavor of a
plump partridge, well cooked, is unsurpassed
in richness and delicacy. A
brace of them in season weigh from
three to three and a half pounds. On
the first of September they are in
prime condition, after feeding on the
wild partridge berry and cranberry,
their favorite food.</p>
<p>When on the wing it is said the scarlet
tips over the eyes of the male bird
glisten like rubies. The cock exposes
himself fearlessly, when in danger, to
save the lives of his offspring. He
tumbles along the ground a few yards
in advance of the dogs, rolling there
in order to decoy the sportsman from
the brood which the hen is anxiously
calling into the thicket. No more
touching instance of paternal affection
could be witnessed, or more touching
proof among the lower creation of
self-sacrifice, prompted by love. The
poor, feeble bird would almost attack
dogs and men in his efforts to save his
children.</p>
<p>At times, in some districts, the
ptarmigan is so tame that it can be
killed with a stick, and at others so
wild that it will not allow the sportsman
to approach within gun shot.</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</SPAN></span></p>
</div>
<h2><SPAN name="ANIMAL_PETS_IN_SCHOOL" id="ANIMAL_PETS_IN_SCHOOL"></SPAN>ANIMAL PETS IN SCHOOL.</h2>
<div>
<ANTIMG class="drop-cap" src="images/initial_a.jpg" alt="" /></div>
<p class="drop-cap">A WISE old man down in Boston
says animal pets should be kept
in public schools to teach children
kindness to the weak. The
jokesters are already at work deriding
one of the best thoughts anybody has
had about education for a long time because
it seems, and possibly is, impracticable.
They call it a reversal of the
Mary's lamb doctrine, and suggest the
propriety of letting the children throw
paper wads to teach them accuracy
and precision.</p>
<p>Despite both its doubtful practicability
and the jester's little fling, Dr.
Edward Everett Hale's proposition is
not only founded on a right theory, but
reflects the very way in which nature,
says the <i>Chicago Journal</i>, first taught
the great lesson of altruism and love.</p>
<p>Most of our scientists and some of
our religious teachers nowadays believe
that man ascended from the beasts. If
he did, the first kindness, the first unselfishness,
the first compassion for the
helpless, and gentleness toward the
weak, that were ever in the world, the
first things that ever differentiated man
from brute, were taught to the parents
of the race in exactly the way Dr. Hale
would have them taught to its children.</p>
<p>There never was any human love until
there was human helplessness. There
never was any mother-love or father-love
until children began to be born
that were feeble.</p>
<p>In some of the lower orders of life
the young can take care of themselves
as soon as they are born. There is no
reason why anything should "care for"
them, so nothing does. There is no
affection for them nor from them nor
among them.</p>
<p>Love was first excited by something
that needed care and kindness. A couple
of shaggy savages, animals that didn't
know enough to love each other yet,
felt something "akin to pity" for an
ugly baby with a gorilla chin and no
forehead, and resolved to do something
not for themselves, but for the hideous
infant, and not because they were proud
of its prettiness and wanted to keep it
for a plaything, but because it so obviously
needed to have something done
for it.</p>
<p>That, the scientists tell us, was the
beginning of unselfishness, the beginning
of care for others, the origin of
affection and altruism, the genesis of
humanity, the promise of the destiny of
man. The baby was the animal pet
that got into the schoolhouse with the
children of the early world and taught
the first lesson of love. On its mighty
weakness hung most of those powerful
and wonderful forces that have lifted
brutehood into manhood.</p>
<p>Heredity does a great deal, but most
of the lesson has to be taught over to
every individual, and it is a more important
one than geography or grammar.
Humanity's happiness and further
progress depend on the thoroughness
with which it learns the lesson, not
of arithmetic or spelling, but of altruism.</p>
<p>Children are cruel. But they have
hereditary instincts of kindness for the
weak that would develop the sooner
into love for their fellows if they had
something helpless to exercise them
on. When a big, hulking, selfish boy
begins to take a protecting interest in
a little yellow dog he is unconsciously
teaching himself the greatest lesson he
can ever learn. Trotting around in
that woolly hide, dodging stones, fleeing
to him for protection from the
poundman, getting lost, and kicked,
starved, and hurt, is the beginning of
the boy's unselfishness and the man's
altruism, and it is not funny, but sad,
that the schoolhouse door must shut it
out so that the reluctant master may
the better give his attention to the mysteries
of commercial arithmetic and the
art of skinning his fellow-man by means
of "brokerage," "discount," and "compound
interest."</p>
<p>Dr. Hale may never see animal pets
in the schools, but he has been in the
world a long time, and knows what humanity
needs.</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</SPAN></span></p>
</div>
<h2><SPAN name="BAILEYS_DICTIONARY" id="BAILEYS_DICTIONARY"></SPAN> BAILEY'S DICTIONARY.</h2>
<p class="ac">C. C. MARBLE.</p>
<div>
<ANTIMG class="drop-cap" src="images/initial_t_alt.jpg" alt="" /></div>
<p class="drop-cap">THIS may be called the age of
dictionary making. All philological
scholarship seems to
culminate in historic derivation.
Without referring invidiously to
cultivated foreign languages, each of
which has many such monuments of
elaborate, accurate, and patient research,
it may be said with confidence
that the English language is unrivaled
in its lexicographers, who at the close
of the nineteenth century have completed
works which only a few decades
ago were not thought of as possible.
Dr. Johnson prepared his unabridged
dictionary in seven years "with little
assistance from the great," an achievement
which at the time excited wonder
and admiration, though insignificant
indeed in comparison with present
performances. And yet there may be
some doubt about the comparatively
greater usefulness to the general reader
of the bulky volumes of the modern
publishers. In illustration the reader
might find an analysis of one of the
oldest English dictionaries an interesting
example.</p>
<p>For several years I have had at hand
"An Universal Etymological English
Dictionary and Interpreter of Hard
Words," by N. Bailey, 1747. On almost
all occasions when I have needed to
consult a dictionary I have found it
satisfactory, some of its learning, on
account of its very quaintnesses and
contemporaneous character, being better
adapted to a particular definition
than modern directness. Perhaps its
greatest defect is the absence from it
of scientific terms, of which, however,
there were very few at that time.</p>
<p>The introduction is exceedingly
learned and the causes of change in
language are discussed with much ingenuity.
Many examples of Saxon
antiquities are given, one of which, the
Lord's prayer, written about A. D. 900,
by Alfred, Bishop of Durham, we may
quote, from which "it doth appear,"
says Bailey, "that the English Saxon
Language, of which the Normans despoiled
us in great Part, had its beauties,
was significant and emphatical,
and preferable to what they imposed
upon us." Here is the prayer:</p>
<p>"Our Father which art in Heavens,
be hallowed thine name; come thine
Kingdom; be thy will so as in Heavens
and in Earth. Our Loaf supersubstantial
give us to-day, and forgive us
Debts our so we forgive Debts ours,
and do not lead us into Temptation,
but deliver us from Evil."</p>
<p>The introduction is in Latin. Greek,
Hebrew, and Saxon characters are used
in the definitions. Bailey defines the
meanings of proverbs with far more
particularity than is necessary, perhaps,
and yet a small volume could be
made up of these curious "common or
old pithy sayings," as he defines them,
many of which are obsolete or unknown
to the readers of the present
day. Instance:</p>
<p>"As sure as God's in Gloucestershire."
This proverb is said to have
its rise, on account that there were
more rich and mitred abbeys in that
than in any two shires of England beside;
but some, from William of Malmsbury,
refer it to the fruitfulness of it
in religion, in that it is said to have returned
the seed of the gospel with the
increase of an hundred fold. And
"Good wine needs no bush." This
proverb intimates that virtue is valuable
for itself, and that internal goodness
stands in need of no external
flourishes or ornaments; and so we say
"A good face needs no band."</p>
<p>One other, a short one: "All goes
down gutter lane." This is applied to
those who spend all in drunkenness
and gluttony, alluding to the Latin
word gutter, which signifies the throat.</p>
<p>Not a few of these proverbs, with
their explanations, occupy whole pages
of the dictionary, and where they are
traced to the Greeks or the Hebrews
the original characters are brought into
use as incontestable evidence of their
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</SPAN></span>
authenticity. Definitions are numerous
of words which, while perfectly legitimate
and of Saxon origin and of common
usage in the age of Elizabeth, are
omitted at the present day from lexicons
in deference to the prevalence of
a more delicate taste.</p>
<p>The book contains about one thousand
pages, is printed in a style little
dissimilar to present unabridged dictionaries,
and must have been of prodigious
assistance to the author's successors.
He does not deprecate the
labors of his predecessors, whom he
acknowledges to have saved him much
trouble, but he claims to have omitted
their redundancies in order to make
room to supply their deficiencies to
the extent of several thousand words,
"in no English dictionary before extant,"
and that he is the first who attempted
an etymological part.</p>
<p>This very important contribution to
English literature—far more important
then than any similar performance
could be now—is, strange to say, nowhere
mentioned in what is regarded
as the best history of English literature.
And just here the remark might
be appropriately made that omissions
of this kind in standard literary histories
and cyclopædias go far to call
in question the qualifications of the
editors. A word may be overlooked
or forgotten, but a scholar who has
contributed substantially to the growth
and enrichment of a great language deserves
a better fate.</p>
<hr class="chap" /></div>
<h2><SPAN name="STELLERS_JAY" id="STELLERS_JAY"></SPAN>STELLER'S JAY.<br/> <span class="xx-smaller"><span style="font-weight:lighter;"> (<i>Cyanocitta stelleri.</i>)</span></span></h2>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">The jay is a jovial bird—Heigh-ho!</div>
<div class="verse indent-1">He chatters all day</div>
<div class="verse indent-1">In a frolicsome way</div>
<div class="verse">With the murmuring breezes that blow—Heigh-ho!</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent-1">Hear him noisily call</div>
<div class="verse indent-1">From the redwood tree tall</div>
<div class="verse">To his mate in the opposite tree—Heigh-ho!</div>
<div class="verse indent-1">Saying, "How do you do?"</div>
<div class="verse indent-1">As his topknot of blue</div>
<div class="verse">Is raised as polite as can be—Heigh-ho!</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent-1">Oh, impudent jay,</div>
<div class="verse indent-1">With your plumage so gay,</div>
<div class="verse">And your manners so jaunty and free—Heigh-ho!</div>
<div class="verse indent-1">How little you guessed,</div>
<div class="verse indent-1">When you robbed the wren's nest,</div>
<div class="verse">That any stray fellow would see—Heigh-ho!</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<div class="p2">
<ANTIMG class="drop-cap" src="images/initial_t.jpg" alt="" /></div>
<p class="drop-cap">THIS is an abundant and interesting
cousin of the bluejay and
is found along the Pacific coast
from northern California northward.
It is a very common resident of
Oregon, is noisy, bold, and dashing.
The nest of this bird is built in firs
and other trees and in bushes, ten to
twenty feet from the ground. It is
bulky and made of large sticks and
twigs, generally put together with
mud, and lined with fine, dry
grasses and hair. The eggs are three
to five, pale green or bluish green,
speckled with olive-brown, with an
average size of 1.28×.85. There seems
no doubt that many jays have been
observed robbing nests of other birds,
but thousands have been seen that
were not so engaged. It has been
shown that animal matter comprises
only about twenty-five per cent. of
the bird's diet.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</SPAN></span></p>
<table class="sp2 mc w50" title="STELLER'S JAY.">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td colspan="3"><span class="ac w100 figcenter">
<SPAN name="i_040.jpg" id="i_040.jpg"> <ANTIMG style="width:100%"
src="images/i_040.jpg" alt="" /></SPAN></span>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30">FROM COL. F. KAEMPFER.<br/>
A. W. MUMFORD, PUBLISHER, CHICAGO.</td>
<td class="x-smaller ac w40">STELLER'S JAY.<br/>
½ Life-size.</td>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30">COPYRIGHT 1900, BY<br/>
NATURE STUDY PUB. CO., CHICAGO.</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</SPAN></span></p>
</div>
<h2><SPAN name="LINEN_FABRICS" id="LINEN_FABRICS"></SPAN>LINEN FABRICS.</h2>
<p class="ac">W. E. WATT, A. M.</p>
<div>
<ANTIMG class="drop-cap" src="images/initial_w.jpg" alt="" /></div>
<p class="drop-cap">WE HAD just taken that delightful
ride down the rapids of the
St. Lawrence, and experienced
the thrill of mingled pleasure
and fear which everyone has at the
moment when the vessel is dashing at
a furious rate directly towards a great
rock, and we were sure that someone had
made a mistake for once, and no power
could save us from being dashed in
pieces, when a sudden whirling current
of the stream picked the ship out of
the way of the rock and carried her
safely through the boiling foam into a
place of comparative safety.</p>
<p>As we stood among the seagoing
shipping of the port of Montreal we
could easily understand why there
should be such a great city there. We
took but little stock in what had been
said of the great business enterprise of
the early settlers of that town and how
they built up the place till it became a
great seaport and an important commercial
center. No doubt they were
able and enterprising men, but Montreal
was made by nature the greatest and
most important seaport of Canada by
the peaceful deep river and its formidable
rapids. Since no ships can sail up
those rapids the boats that came from
Europe and all over the earth were
obliged to tie up there and discharge
their cargoes.</p>
<p>Wherever there is a ledge of rock to
stop the coming up of vessels from the
sea there is always an important town
to receive what those ships bring and
to distribute it over the country round
about.</p>
<p>We went aboard a ship that had just
come in from France loaded with cases
of wines. As the wines were being
carried ashore at some of the gangways
loads of something else were being
brought aboard at others. This stuff
was done up in sacks longer than a
man and very heavy. It took several
men to handle a sack. They were so
careless about it that we wondered that
they did not fear breaking the contents
of the sacks. Then we wondered more
what sort of stuff could be shipped to
Europe in such sacks and in such
great quantities. We inquired; and it
took some little time to make the inquiry,
for the men who did the work
spoke something that sounded like
French, but our school French did not
suit them. We could find no one at
hand who spoke English. We learned
that the sacks contained oilcake.</p>
<p>Linen has been woven since records
of what man has done have been kept.
Some historians claim that cotton is
the oldest fabric, and give instances of
old records of its use in India and
China. Others claim woolen goods to
be the oldest, and yet others claim the
honor for linen. Whoever looks into
the matter extensively will be inclined
to give the credit to whichever fabric
he studies most, but it is likely that the
figleaf will be credited with the greatest
age as a fabric by most people.</p>
<p>The seed of flax is ground fine, either
roasted or raw, and placed under heavy
hydraulic pressure. This brings out
the oil, which is a very important article
called linseed oil. The cake is valuable
for feeding cattle and the oil is
used in all kinds of painting where the
painted surface has to stand against
the weather. Most of the flax raised
in America is cultivated for the seed
mainly. In Ohio three pecks of seed
are sown to the acre and from six to
twelve bushels are harvested. There
is also a ton or two of straw to the
acre, which is used at the rope-walks
and paper-mills. Linen paper is peculiarly
valuable.</p>
<p>The mummies of Egypt were swathed
in linen, and much of this cloth is now
in an excellent state of preservation although
at least four thousand years
have sped since its manufacture. While
Joseph was in bondage cloth was woven
which is still in existence.</p>
<p>There was once some question as to
whether certain mummy cloth was of
cotton or linen. But that has been
definitely settled by the use of powerful
lenses. The microscope shows that
a fiber of cotton is flat and curly like a
ribbon somewhat crinkled, and, like a
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</SPAN></span>
fine ribbon, has a beautiful border which
differs from the rest of the fiber. A
fiber of flax has a glassy luster and is
not flat like cotton, but rather like an
extremely fine bamboo rod, cylindrical
and jointed. When these facts were
learned regarding the two fibers the
cloth under suspicion was placed under
the glass and showed unmistakably
that it was round, transparent, and
jointed. So there could no longer be
any doubt that the ancient coverings
of the dead in Egypt were all of linen
with no mixture of cotton even when
cotton was well-known.</p>
<p>The dead could not be buried in cerements
of wool because there was a
strict law against it, the wool being
supposed to invite worms. The remarkable
preservation of the cloth is
largely due to the fact that it was well
smeared with wax and asphaltum.
But the fibers of flax resist decay to
such an extent that in the ordinary
process of preparing flax for spinning
it is moistened and left exposed to such
an extent that if it were as easy to decay
as cotton it would become rotten
before the time for spinning.</p>
<p>The earliest records of the business
of preparing this useful fabric are those
of the Egyptians as cut in stone on
their ancient monuments. In their
hieroglyphics and illustrations they
have left us a complete representation
of all their arts, and the processes of
gathering flax, rotting off the bark and
coatings of the fibers, cleaning the material
by striking with clubs or whipping
it against stones, straightening
the fibers, twisting them into threads,
and weaving cloth, are all beautifully
pictured and described.</p>
<p>When William the Conqueror invaded
England his wife Matilda made a record
of the principal events of his life
by embroidering upon a linen strip
twenty inches wide and two hundred
and fourteen feet long figures of the
men, boats, animals, weapons, and other
interesting objects, using woolen thread
and depicting all with great clearness
and accuracy. The Bishop of Odo assisted
her husband at the battle of
Hastings, and in remembrance of his
kindness Matilda presented the work
to the cathedral of Bayeaux. It is
now preserved in the public library of
that city.</p>
<p>Two hundred years ago there were
spinning schools in Germany. The
teacher sat with a wand in her hand
and tapped the children near her when
they lapsed into idleness, and when she
noticed any of those at some distance
from her not at work she rang a little
bell for an attendant to enter and take
the offenders out of the room for the
purpose of punishment.</p>
<p>The old Dutch settlers in New York
made what was called linsey-woolsey.
This was a sort of cloth made with linen
warp filled in with woolen woof. It
was better than all-wool goods because
it held its shape better and was
stronger. This material was much
worn by the early inhabitants of America,
Abraham Lincoln being one of
those who were well-satisfied with
home-made garments of this fabric.
Irving, in his "Knickerbocker's History
of New York," claimed that some of
the Dutchmen whose names ended in
broeck were so-called because of some
peculiarity pertaining to their breeches.
For instance, Tenbroeck took his name
from the rare distinction of his possessing
and wearing at the same time ten
pairs of linsey-woolsey breeches.</p>
<p>When people began to show their
prosperity by purchasing cloth made
up more beautifully than the product
of the homestead loom they had to
endure the remarks of others who
affected to despise the man who was
so extravagant as to care to dress in
"store cloth." So recent is the use of
this old-fashioned material that we find
in one of Louisa Alcott's essays to
girls the statement that "Modesty is
as sweet in linsey-woolsey as in linen."</p>
<p>The greatest country in the world
for the production of linen of the best
quality is Ireland. Flax there reaches
a height often exceeding two feet and
the soil and climate seem to be the
very best for maturing the fiber and
manipulating it when gathered. In
traveling through the country I saw a
great deal of what at first glance seemed
to be some sort of grain lying on the
ground spoiling in the rain. I soon
realized that this was flax and that it
was left out on the ground purposely
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</SPAN></span>
to give the pulp and bark a chance to
rot away from the fiber.</p>
<p>Dew-retting is letting the flax lie in
the heavy dews of Ireland till the work
is done. Soil on which flax is raised
is rapidly made poor unless the richness
that is taken from it in the flax
is restored to it in some way. Most of
this richness is in the seed and the part
of the stalk that is removed in the retting.
Where this gets back to the soil
there is little else to be added. Sometimes
the flax is retted in small pools
and the water saved to put upon the
ground, though the flax is more discolored
by this process than where the
work is done in running water. Recently
steam heat and vapor have been
used to soften the stalks, and then the
air pump draws the pulp away from
the fiber, so that what once took several
weeks to do is now done in a few
hours. By the old process the fiber
was sometimes left stacked dry for
years with constant improvement in
quality.</p>
<p>The Irish people, who are so proud
of their island, point with additional
pride to what some of their linen towns
have done. As we were riding past
the little village of Bessbrook a clergyman
took pains to point out to us the
evidences of thrift. He said that town
lacked three p's that are very troublesome
to other towns all over the world.
They were the pawnshop, the public
house, and the police. The good character
of the people made these entirely
unnecessary for their town. But these
good qualities are not universal there,
for in some of the larger places intemperance
is remarkably bad.</p>
<p>We saw the work in all its stages at
Belfast. Queen Victoria gets her table
linen from that city, and we saw several
pieces in the loom that had the
royal arms upon them. To get the
finest fabric the fiber is kept moist in
both spinning and weaving. Nothing
can be more beautiful than the silky,
transparent stuffs made there. Dry
spinning is done where a coarse and
heavy grade of goods is desired.
American visitors in Ireland, especially
the gentlemen, plan to bring
home as large a quantity of linen collars,
cuffs, and handkerchiefs as the
customs officers will allow to pass at
New York free of duty.</p>
<p>The finest linen goods are called
lawns, and this name is a modification
of the French word <i>linon</i>, which sounds
much like lawn when spoken properly.
The French make many fine articles
from all sorts of fibers, and seem to
have recovered from the blow to their
industries which came on the revocation
of the Edict of Nantes. Some
writers claim that nearly half a million
skilled workers in fabrics left that
country in the years around 1688.</p>
<p>While the battle of Waterloo was
raging near Brussels and the people of
rank were so strongly affected by the
thunder of the guns of all Europe
there were thousands of women, young
and old, in that city and within hearing
of the great contest who kept right
on with their work, making laces.
They knew somebody would win the
day, and there would be a market for
all sorts of finery, and the linen laces
of Belgium were of much importance
to society. There are many kinds of
laces made in Brussels, but the kind
you most see as you pass along the
streets is that being made on little
cushions by women sitting before their
shops and houses with one eye upon
their work and the other on those who
are passing, hoping to get an American
to pay a large price for something that
he thinks he has seen made. It is not
an unheard-of thing for an American
to buy of one of these attractive lace-makers
lace that came from the machines
of Nottingham, England, for
machine-made lace is much cheaper
than that made by hand.</p>
<p>Pillow lace was probably invented
by Barbara Uttmann, in the middle of
the sixteenth century. She lived in
St. Annaberg, Germany, and was a
woman of great natural ability. She
was highly honored by the Saxons, who
state with pride that when she died, at
the age of sixty, she had seen sixty-four
of her own children and grand-children.</p>
<p>Point lace of the old sort was the
highest form of needle art. Holy men
of old gave their lives to architecture,
believing they could give glory to God
by work in stone beautifully carved
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</SPAN></span>
and set in the walls of monasteries and
cathedrals; so it happened that in the
thirteenth century the works of their
hands reached the highest point in
architecture. So beautiful is their
work even now that those who have
studied the subject but little know the
date of a building when they see its
windows. But a century later the
nuns had done something of the same
sort. They had produced from the
fine fibers of flax marvelous designs of
fleecy lace fabrics that were the wonder
of Christendom. Their art was
buried with them. A point lace is
made to-day, but it is far from the excellence
of the original work, which
was a constant prayer of those who
gave their lives to the making of it.</p>
<p>A Yankee boy of twenty, Erastus
Bigelow, thought it would be a good
thing to try to invent a way of making
coachlace by machinery. In forty
days he was producing lace at three
cents a yard which had cost twenty-two
cents. Then he invented a loom
for ingrain carpets; this made eight
yards a day instead of three that the
looms of the time made. In making
Brussels carpet he made his chief
triumph. Seven yards a day was considered
a good day's work, but he
made a machine that produced twenty-five
yards of much better quality in the
same time. He received one hundred
thousand dollars for his patents. The
body of Brussels carpet is built on a
foundation of linen.</p>
<hr class="chap" /></div>
<h2><SPAN name="THE_SYCAMORE_WARBLER" id="THE_SYCAMORE_WARBLER"></SPAN> THE SYCAMORE WARBLER.</h2>
<p class="ac">BELLE P. DRURY.</p>
<div>
<ANTIMG class="drop-cap" src="images/initial_t.jpg" alt="" /></div>
<p class="drop-cap">THE last winter was one of unusual
severity in the south, as
well as elsewhere. The cold
continued until rather late in
the spring and caused the death of
numbers of birds that came north too
soon. One day the last of March a
sycamore warbler flew in at the open
door of a cottage in the Indian Territory.
It settled familiarly on the dining-table,
picking up crumbs from the
cloth. It seemed cold and almost famished,
having arrived too early from its
winter haunts in Mexico or Guatemala.
After satisfying its hunger it flew
about the room, and presently,
instead of flying out, it dashed its
breast against a mirror and dropped to
the floor, quite dead. The blow could
scarcely have caused death except for
the bird's exhausted condition. I
picked up the wee creature to examine
its pretty coat. How dainty each ash-gray
feather! Some were tipped and
some marked with white. The throat
had a tinge of yellow; then two colors
giving the extra names of "white-browed"
and "yellow-throated" warbler.
This bird frequents marshy
lands where sycamore trees flourish.
It loves to build its nest in the topmost
boughs, safe from all enemies. Here
the male, screened from view, sings his
song, which resembles that of the
indigo bunting, but with a different
modulation. When the days became
warm I often saw a happy pair of them,
busy, I supposed, in building, but the
nests were too high for inspection.</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</SPAN></span></p>
<table class="sp2 mc w50" title="RUDDY DUCK.">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td colspan="3"><span class="ac w100 figcenter">
<SPAN name="i_055.jpg" id="i_055.jpg"> <ANTIMG style="width:100%"
src="images/i_055.jpg" alt="" /></SPAN></span>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30">FROM COL. F. NUSSBAUMER & SON.<br/>
A. W. MUMFORD, PUBLISHER, CHICAGO.</td>
<td class="x-smaller ac w40">RUDDY DUCK.<br/>
½ Life-size.</td>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30">COPYRIGHT 1900, BY<br/>
NATURE STUDY PUB. CO., CHICAGO.</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</SPAN></span></p>
</div>
<h2><SPAN name="THE_RUDDY_DUCK" id="THE_RUDDY_DUCK"></SPAN>THE RUDDY DUCK.<br/> <span class="xx-smaller"><span style="font-weight:lighter;"> (<i>Erismatura rubida.</i>)</span></span></h2>
<div>
<ANTIMG class="drop-cap" src="images/initial_f.jpg" alt="" /></div>
<p class="drop-cap">FEW, if any, ducks have so many
popular names as this species,
which is known as spine-tailed,
heavy-tailed, quill-tail coot, stiff-tail,
bristle-tail, sleepy-duck, sleepy
coot, fool-duck, deaf-duck, shot-pouch,
daub-duck, stubble-and-twist, booly-coot,
blather scoot, hickory-head,
greaser, paddy, noddy, paddy-whack,
dinkey, hard-tack, etc., according to
the locality or the particular individual
who is asked to name the species. It
has characteristics which justify the
use of any one or all of these names.
Its range is the whole of North America,
which extends south to Guatemala
and Colombia, Cuba and other West Indian
islands. Probably no North American
duck has so extensive a breeding-range
as the present species, since it
breeds as far south as Guatemala, perhaps
even farther; as far north as Great
Stone Lake, York Factory, and other
localities in the sub-Arctic portions of
the continent, and from the Atlantic to
the Pacific. According to Professor
Cook it winters from southern Illinois
southward. This duck seems to be
equally fond of salt, brackish, and fresh
water. In the Southern states it is
found in great flocks. Its flight is rapid,
with a whirring sound, occasioned by
the concave form of the wings. It
rises from the water with considerable
difficulty, being obliged to assist itself
with its broad webbed feet, and for that
purpose to run on the surface for several
yards. From the ground, however,
it can spring up at once. It
swims with ease and grace, is expert at
diving, and when wounded, often escapes
in this way, hiding in the grass
if there is any accessible. The locality
usually selected for a nest is some deep,
sluggish stream, lake, or pond, and the
nests are always built close to the
water's edge, being composed of reeds,
dry rushes, and grass. The structure is
often made so that it will float, similar
to a grebe's nest. It is asserted that
this bird prefers the abandoned nests
of coots for nesting purposes to those
constructed by itself. The eggs appear
large for the size of the bird; they are
grayish white, oval in shape, with a
finely granulated surface; sizes range
from 2.35 to 2.50 long by 1.70 to 1.80
broad. Audubon says that the adult
female in summer presents the same
characteristics as the male. He describes
the male one year old as having
a similar white patch on the side of the
head; upper part of head and hind neck
dull blackish brown; throat and sides
of neck, lower part of the neck dull
reddish brown waved with dusky; upper
parts as in the adult but of a duller
tint, lower parts of a grayish white.</p>
<hr class="chap" /></div>
<h2><SPAN name="WINGS" id="WINGS"></SPAN>WINGS.</h2>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse">Wings that flutter in sunny air;</div>
<div class="verse">Wings that dive and dip and dare;</div>
<div class="verse">Wings of the humming-bird flashing by;</div>
<div class="verse">Wings of the lark in the purple sky;</div>
<div class="verse">Wings of the eagle aloft, aloof;</div>
<div class="verse">Wings of the pigeon upon the roof;</div>
<div class="verse">Wings of the storm-bird, swift and free,</div>
<div class="verse">With wild winds sweeping across the sea—</div>
<div class="verse">Often and often a voice in me sings—</div>
<div class="verse">Oh for the freedom, the freedom of wings!</div>
<div class="verse ar">—<i>Mary F. Butts.</i></div>
</div></div>
<hr class="chap" /></div>
<h2><SPAN name="I_KNOW_NOT_WHY" id="I_KNOW_NOT_WHY"></SPAN>I KNOW NOT WHY.</h2>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse">I lift mine eyes against the sky,</div>
<div class="verse">The clouds are weeping—so am I;</div>
<div class="verse">I lift mine eyes again on high,</div>
<div class="verse">The sun is smiling—so am I.</div>
<div class="verse">Why do I smile? Why do I weep?</div>
<div class="verse">I do not know, it lies so deep.</div>
<div class="verse">I hear the winds of autumn sigh.</div>
<div class="verse">They break my heart, they make me cry.</div>
<div class="verse">I hear the birds of lovely spring,</div>
<div class="verse">My hopes revive, I help them sing.</div>
<div class="verse">Why do I sing? Why do I cry?</div>
<div class="verse">It lies so deep I know not why.</div>
<div class="verse ar">—<i>Morris Rosenfeld.</i></div>
</div></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</SPAN></span></p>
</div>
<h2><SPAN name="THE_BRAVE_BOAR" id="THE_BRAVE_BOAR"></SPAN>THE BRAVE BOAR.</h2>
<p class="ac">ELLA F. MOSBY.</p>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse">"Upstairs, downstairs,</div>
<div class="verse">And in my lady's chamber,"</div>
</div></div>
<div class="p2">
<ANTIMG class="drop-cap" src="images/initial_t.jpg" alt="" /></div>
<p class="drop-cap">THE French chronicles of the reign
of Francis I. tell the following
wonderful story of a boar hunt:
"'Twas in a grand forest that
stretched for miles around a castle—an
old-fashioned castle of ramparts and
towers, of wide halls and winding stairways.</p>
<p>Oliver, the twelve-year old son of the
master of the castle, had set his heart
on going with his father to hunt the
wild boar with the gentlemen of the
neighborhood. The forest was the
home of a great many wild creatures,
great and small. Squirrels and hares
lived there; wide-antlered stags and
timid does with their young fawns beside
them, foxes, boars that feasted on
the black acorns and chestnuts that
covered the ground, and fierce gray
wolves, seen chiefly in winter. The
boars were the fiercest of all, even the
sows would fight for their young ones,
and there was one old boar who was by
this time quite famous for his courage,
his cunning and his great age. He was
called Pique-Mort, which means death-thrust,
because he had in his savage onslaughts
fatally wounded so many men,
horses and dogs.</p>
<p>"Oliver's father had ordered the great
hunt against this very old warrior, who,
by the way, had grown so shrewd that
he could not always be roused from his
secret lair even by the beaters and
prickers who went ahead of the hunters.
But he surely would appear to-day. The
forest was ringing with horns and bugles,
the neighing of horses, the baying
of noble hounds, the hallooing and
joyous clamor of the sportsmen.</p>
<p>"Oliver was well prepared for the occasion.
Old Bertrand had taught him
all the calls and recalls on bugle and
horn, had trained him to thrust with
the long boar-spear, and to use the
short, thick sword kept for the last
when the brute was near, and the big
boar-hounds Vite-Vite, and the others,
turned and obeyed his voice when it
rang out in its clear, boyish treble.
Most important of all, his mother had
consented to his going.</p>
<p>"But alas, and alas! when the morning
dawned fair and sweet, poor Oliver
was racked with grievous pain and burning
with fever! The chase swept away
with shout and cry and bugle-blast, and
Oliver barely heeded it or turned his
head when his father called back:
'We'll bring old Pique-Mort home with
us.' However, by the afternoon the
fever had slackened, and the pain
abated, and Oliver lay white and weak
on his couch, and with piteous tears on
his cheeks over the mischance that had
held him fast at home. He turned his
face to the wall in a burst of passionate
grief as they heard, at first far off, and
then nearer and nearer, the excited
yelps of the dogs, then the trampling of
horses, the hoarse cries of the men, and
oh, the bugle!—note of 'La Mort!'
which meant victory over the famous
boar!</p>
<p>"'Oliver,' said his mother tenderly,—and
then all at once came a sound at
which both started, and threw their
arms about each other. In the hall below,
up the stairs, came a heavy creature,
panting, snorting, and the furious
Pique-Mort suddenly burst upon their
amazed vision! Sinister and savage did
he look, the little, round greedy eyes
red with rage, the bristles standing up
like a cuirass, the sharp and cruel tusks
ready for assault, and foam and blood
churned at their base into a streaked
froth by his heat and anger. He was
within the chamber. Oliver's arm
dropped nerveless at his side, and his
frightened eyes sought vainly for any
weapon.</p>
<p>"The mother had a quicker wit, and
stooping down, she seized with both
arms a large Eastern rug, and threw it
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</SPAN></span>
over the beast's head, blinding him for
the while, as well as blunting the thrust
of the terrible tusks. As he struggled
desperately in its smothering and heavy
folds, the whole following—dogs, men
and the master at their head, were up
the stairs also, and the death-stroke was
quickly given. It was the end of the
veteran of so many chases in morass
and thicket—Pique-Mort was dead.</p>
<p>"After a moment's half-stupefied
stare, the lord of the castle broke forth:</p>
<p>"'Well, my boy, you were at the finish
after all.' The dogs could not be
held off their old foe, and the brave
boar was furious at their baiting, and so
broke away. My lady, you have the
glory, and Oliver his wish.'</p>
<p>"Old Bertrand stroked his grizzled
beard.</p>
<p>"''Twas a gallant brute,' he said.
'Had he been a man they would have
styled him <i>hero</i>. He had a high courage
and loved freedom well.'"</p>
<hr class="sect" />
<p>We have grown since those rough
days into more compassion for animals,
but even yet we are not altogether just
to their side of the question, to the recognition
of their right to life and its
joys as their merciful Creator has given
it to them.</p>
<hr class="chap" /></div>
<h2><SPAN name="GETTING_ACQUAINTED_WITH_THE_TEACHER" id="GETTING_ACQUAINTED_WITH_THE_TEACHER"></SPAN> GETTING ACQUAINTED WITH THE TEACHER.</h2>
<p class="ac">JESSIE P. WHITAKER.</p>
<div>
<ANTIMG class="drop-cap" src="images/initial_i.jpg" alt="" /></div>
<p class="drop-cap">IN the summer of 1897, wandering in
the woods of Pigeon Cove, on the
outer point of Cape Ann, the prolonged
call of a bird often came to
my ears, which aroused my curiosity.
I was not then much acquainted with
birds, but was beginning to "take notice"
and usually carried my field glass
on my walks, and if I saw or heard a
bird unfamiliar to me, tried to look
him up in my books. I had with me
"Our Common Birds and How to Know
Them," by John B. Grant; also Florence
Merriam's "Birds Through an
Opera Glass"—very good books to aid
beginners in identifying birds. The
call of which I speak was so marked
and so often repeated that I eagerly
searched for the bird, but could not
get a glimpse of him, nor even locate
the sound accurately.</p>
<p>I soon perceived, however, that it
was a regular chant, increasing in an
even crescendo, vibrating through the
woods. I remembered reading descriptions
of such a call in the books, and
soon found my bird to be the oven-bird,
golden-crowned thrush, or teacher
bird.</p>
<p>But why "teacher" bird?</p>
<p>I was constantly asking this question,
for to my ears the sound always came
as <i>ti-chee, ti-chee, ti-chee</i>, with accent
always on the final syllable. By no
exercise of the imagination could I
make it sound like "teacher." Never
during that summer nor during the two
succeeding summers have I heard these
birds at Pigeon Cove say "teacher."</p>
<p>The little brown walker kept out of
my sight very persistently during that
first summer, but in September, walking
in the woods near Star Lake in the
Adirondacks, I had a good, near view
of two little olive-green birds walking
on some low branches. Their white
speckled breasts proclaimed them
thrushes, while the beautiful crown of
brownish orange inclosed in lines of
black, plainly marked them the "golden-crowned."
Often as I have seen the
bird since, his golden crown has never
appeared as conspicuous as it did on
that September day by the mountain
lake. But I had to go to Skaneateles
Lake in central New York to hear him
say "teacher." On a May morning in
in 1899, sitting on a mountain side
overlooking this beautiful sheet of
water, the chant of a bird came vibrating
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</SPAN></span>
through the woods to my ears,
<i>teach-ah, teach-ah, teach-ah, teach-ah,
teach-ah</i> very distinctly.</p>
<p>Accent clearly on the first syllable
this time.</p>
<p>Ah! Mr. Burroughs, at last I have
found your little "teacher."</p>
<p>Will anyone tell me <i>why</i> this bird
with olive back and speckled, thrush-like
breast, is placed in the family
<i>Mniotiltidæ</i>, or wood warblers, instead
of with the <i>Turdidæ</i>, or thrushes? And
why is the "water thrush" also classed
with wood warblers, when his olive
back and speckled breast make him
seem almost a twin brother to the oven
bird, while both are so unlike other
members of the warbler family, and so
much resemble the true thrushes? It
was at Glen Haven, beside a mountain
brook tumbling down into Skaneateles
Lake that I had my first and only view
of a water thrush.</p>
<p>His clear song, repeatedly ringing
out above the noisy music of the brook,
kept luring me onward and upward
over the rough banks, till at length I
saw the little walker peering about
among the stones for his food. Another
bird closely resembling the
thrushes and bearing the name, yet
placed in <i>another family</i>, is the brown
thrasher, or thrush. I look in my book
for his classification. Family <i>Troglodytidæ</i>!
I can scarcely believe my
eyes! Can any one give me any earthly
reason <i>why</i> the ornithologists in their
wisdom have seen fit to place this bird,
with his reddish brown back, speckled
breast and beautiful thrush-like song,
in the same family with catbirds and
wrens? Truly the mysteries of ornithology
are past my comprehension.</p>
<p>To return to our "teacher." My acquaintance
with him has not yet advanced
to the stage of finding him "at
home" in his dwelling. As Neltje
Blanchan says, "it is only by a happy
accident" that one might "discover the
little ball of earth raised above the
ground, but concealed by leaves and
twigs and resembling a Dutch oven,
which gives the bird its name of oven-bird."
Last summer at Pigeon Cove
the warning cries of a mother-bird led
me to suspect a nest, but I failed to
find it. The brood had evidently left
their home, for a sudden loud outcry
from the mother-bird startled me as
the little thrushes scurried out of the
path from almost under my feet, while
Madame Thrush fluttered about with a
pretense of a broken wing to distract
my attention. Her "trailing" was quite
effective, for by the time I had turned
my attention from her performance to
the babies, they were quite out of
sight.</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<table class="sp2 mc w50" title="MUSKRAT.">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td colspan="3"><span class="ac w100 figcenter">
<SPAN name="i_074.jpg" id="i_074.jpg"> <ANTIMG style="width:100%"
src="images/i_074.jpg" alt="" /></SPAN></span>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30">FROM COL. F. NUSSBAUMER & SON.<br/>
A. W. MUMFORD, PUBLISHER, CHICAGO.</td>
<td class="x-smaller ac w40">MUSKRAT.<br/>
⅓ Life-size.</td>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30">COPYRIGHT 1900, BY<br/>
NATURE STUDY PUB. CO., CHICAGO.</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table></div>
<h2><SPAN name="THE_MUSKRAT" id="THE_MUSKRAT"></SPAN>THE MUSKRAT.<br/> <span class="xx-smaller"><span style="font-weight:lighter;"> (<i>Fiber Zibethicus.</i>)</span></span></h2>
<div>
<ANTIMG class="drop-cap" src="images/initial_t.jpg" alt="" /></div>
<p class="drop-cap">THAT part of North America
which is included between the
thirtieth and sixtieth parallels
of north latitude is the home
of this species of muskrat, which is the
most numerous of the family. It is
most plentiful in Alaska and Canada,
which are so rich in lakes and rivers.
It is described as a large water mole,
with a long tail, broad hind paws, a
blunt snout, and short, hair-covered
ears, which may be closed to exclude
water. The fur is close, smooth, soft,
and lustrous, the woolly under fur being
extremely delicate, fine, and short;
the outer coat has a strong luster, and
is double the length of the former.
Adult males attain a total length of
twenty-three inches, the tail occupying
about half of this. Grassy banks
of large lakes or wide, slowly flowing
streams and swamps are its favorite
haunts, though it is frequently seen
about large ponds, grown with reeds
and aquatic plants, where it erects a
permanent home and dwells either in
small colonies or communities of considerable
numbers. The mode of life
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</SPAN></span>
of a muskrat is in many respects like
that of the beaver, for which reason the
Indians call the two animals brothers,
and affirm that the beaver is the older
and more intelligent of the two. The
burrows of the muskrat consist of
plain underground chambers, with several
tunnels, all terminating under
water, or of strongholds above ground.
These are of a round or dome shape,
stand on a heap of mud, and rise above
the surface of the water. They are
lined with reeds, reed grass, and sedge,
cemented with mud; the interior of the
"lodge" contains a single chamber
from sixteen to twenty-four inches in
diameter. A tunnel which opens beneath
the water leads to it. In winter
it lines its chambers softly with water
lilies, leaves, grasses, and reeds, providing
for ventilation by loosely covering
the center of the dome-shaped
roof with plants, which admit a sufficient
quantity of fresh air and let the
vitiated air out. As long as the pond
or swamp does not freeze to the very
bottom it is said to lead a highly comfortable
existence in its warm habitation,
which is often protected by a
covering of snow. Some observers say
that the food of the muskrat consists
almost wholly of aquatic plants, but
Audubon saw captive muskrats which
were very fond of mussels. They are
very lively, playful creatures when in
the water. On a calm night many of
them may be seen in a mill-pond or
some other sequestered pool, "disporting
themselves, crossing and recrossing
in every direction, leaving long,
glittering ripples in their wake as they
swim, while others stand for a few
moments on little tufts of grass, stones,
or logs, from which they can reach
their food floating on the water; others
sit on the banks of the pond and then
plunge one after the other into water
like frogs."</p>
<p>From three to six young are born in
a burrow. If caught young they are
easily tamed, and are of an equable
and gentle disposition. Although
some people dislike the fur on account
of the odor of musk which clings to
it for a long time, it is often used for
trimming clothing or in the manufacture
of collars and cuffs, especially in
America and China. The best pelts
are deprived of the long outer fur,
dyed a dark brown color and used as a
trimming which resembles sealskin.
The animal is caught in traps baited
with apples. The Indians know exactly
which "lodges" are inhabited;
they only eat the flesh, as the odor
does not seem to be disagreeable to
them.</p>
<hr class="chap" /></div>
<h2><SPAN name="NOT_A_SPARROW_FALLETH" id="NOT_A_SPARROW_FALLETH"></SPAN> "NOT A SPARROW FALLETH."</h2>
<p class="ac">GRANVILLE OSBORNE.</p>
<div>
<ANTIMG class="drop-cap" src="images/initial_n.jpg" alt="" /></div>
<p class="drop-cap">NO traveler in Palestine, the land
of sacred memories, will need
an introduction to the sparrows.
They are as tame, troublesome,
vivacious, and impertinent, as their
numerous progeny across the seas.
They chirp and twitter, asserting their
rights of possession in places where
they are not welcome, industriously
building their nests in every available
nook and corner, and defending them
fearlessly against every feathered encroacher.
They stop up the stove-pipes
and water-gutters with their rubbish,
build nests in the windows, and
under the eaves of the roofs, and have
not the least reverence for any place
or thing. You see them perching on
the loftiest spires of the Holy City,
flitting in and out of minaret and tower,
wherever an opening invites them to a
place of security and shelter for rearing
their young. They nest in great
numbers in the bushes on the banks of
the River Jordan, and band together
in defending their nests against the
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</SPAN></span>
rooks and crows that infest the cane-brakes
north of Lake Hulah. They
live on terms of great amity and friendliness
with the beautiful "wŭr-war" or
bee-eater, which burrows in the soft
earth-banks near the out-go of the
Jordan, from the Lake of Galilee. The
nests of sparrow and "wŭr-war" are so
numerous and easy to reach that one
might easily gather a peck of their
tiny eggs, and unfledged nestlings, with
mother-bird and all, could they be of
use. But the Mosaic Law has a precept
especially intended to protect the
"birds of the air." In one portion of
the inspired text he writes: "If a
bird's nest chances to be before thee
in the way, in any tree, or on the
ground, whether they be young ones
or eggs, and the dam sitting upon the
young, or upon the eggs, thou shalt
not molest the dam with the young,
that it may be well with thee, and that
thou mayest prolong thy days." You
will notice how clear is the precept by
which we are forbidden to molest these
nests. We <i>must</i> not, the biblical law
says, and to the obedient is the promised
blessing of prosperity and long
life, with contrary calamities clearly
implied to those who transgress. In
its meaning this precept includes all
birds, and was intended, like many
other prohibitory commands, to cultivate
sentiments of humanity and habits
of gentleness. And so it is that in
Bible lands the sparrow is more numerous,
and less liable to destruction,
than in our own streets, fields and parks,
where every bird of this species is an
object of contempt, and often lured to
its death, with countless thousands of
victims, unsuspecting and easily taken
like himself.</p>
<p>They flit over the "field of the Shepherds,"
and build nests in the "cave of
the Nativity." They cover the fields of
wild oats by thousands, and chirp and
twitter on the hillside where "Ruth
went down to glean." A colony will
be found in every old tree on the
Mount of Olives, and even in the "garden
of Gethsemane," they nest in perfect
security above the heads of the
black-robed attendants, who are on
terms of great familiarity with them.
The first reference to the sparrow in
the Bible is an allusion to this habit of
the fearless bird in building its nest in
the most sacred places. It recalls the
sad and pathetic period in David's life,
when he fled from Jerusalem pursued
by the army of his son Absalom, "who
sought his throne and life." Afar from
Jerusalem, and the temple courts, where
he led the people in their devotions, his
heart longed for the peace and holy
calm, to be found only within their
sacred enclosures, and he says: "A
day in thy courts is better than a thousand."
"My soul longeth for thy
courts." "The sparrow hath found a
nest for herself where she may lay her
young, even thine altars." Thus he,
the great King David, wished for the
rest and peace enjoyed by the humble
birds which he had observed so often,
ministering to their young about the
holy altar itself. Again, when Absalom
falls in battle, and word is brought
David, in the sadness of his lament,
"O, Absalom, my son, my son!" He
compares himself to the tiny, despised
bird, saying: "I watch and am as a
sparrow, alone upon the housetop."
He had, no doubt, often seen the sparrow,
when one had lost its mate, sitting
on the housetop alone, and lamenting
hour after hour its sad bereavement.
So again the <i>sparrow</i> is honored above
its fellows, and its affectionate devotion
immortalized. But a "Greater than
David," has drawn from this humblest
one of the feathered tribe, a lesson of
trust which has touched tenderly, in all
ages since, the heart of every seeker
after truth. "Not a sparrow falleth"
is a sentence that comes very close to
the human heart. "Not a sparrow
falleth to the ground without your
Father. Not one of them is forgotten
of Him. Fear not, therefore. <i>Ye</i> are
of more value than many sparrows."</p>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse">"Not a sparrow falleth,"</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">How sweet the words and true</div>
<div class="verse">"Without your Father's notice,"</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Who careth still for you;</div>
<div class="verse">O tiny bird, so trustful,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Teach me such trust as thine,</div>
<div class="verse">That so the wondrous lesson</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">I may possess as mine.</div>
</div></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</SPAN></span></p>
</div>
<h2><SPAN name="THE_TREATING_OF_WHITEY" id="THE_TREATING_OF_WHITEY"></SPAN> THE TREATING OF WHITEY.</h2>
<p class="ac">BERTHA SEAVEY SAUNIER.</p>
<div>
<ANTIMG class="drop-cap" src="images/initial_h.jpg" alt="" /></div>
<p class="drop-cap">HIS coat was thin—so thin that his
skin showed through in patches.
And the skin was thin—so thin
that the bones almost pricked
through in a mute appeal to the public.</p>
<p>He walked the streets until his four
little feet dragged with weariness and
he often sat down upon his haunches
to rest.</p>
<p>When he stopped people noticed him
and many turned as they went past,
watching him—he was so pitiable a
sight.</p>
<p>"Mangy dog," somebody said, but he
was more than that. He was lost and
he was starving. He was so needy that
he had forsaken his alley haunts and
had come up to the boulevards where
was greater prosperity, sunshine, cleanliness,
and perhaps love toward man
and beast.</p>
<p>In his walks he chanced near the
lake and paced the viaduct that leads
out upon the pier. He even went on
the pier and looked down into the dark
water as many despairing men and
women have looked. It seemed easy to
fall in, but he turned back and walked
away. He had learned that if he kept
moving the police and guards did not
poke at him with their clubs.</p>
<p>In crossing Michigan avenue he had
to watch his chances, for the rubber
tires of the carriages made no warning
sound on the asphalt. And then he
came to Wabash—the noise of the
elevated and surface trains, and of the
trucks and drays was so confusing that
he had need of more care than ever.
At length he reached State street and
sat down to rest.</p>
<p>Lizzie and Mattie were there before
him. They, too, were acquainted with
alley ways, though they were not personally
acquainted with Whitey. Evidently
they had found nourishment
there that Whitey had missed, for Lizzie
was decidedly fat and Mattie was
fairly presentable.</p>
<p>Lizzie wore a faded worsted skirt
poorly joined to a cotton shirt-waist
with a green silk belt. Her short, fair
hair was curled and tied with a green
ribbon and her airy straw hat was bright
with flowers. Other little girls of better
fortunes had worn the things and
had extracted their freshness and much
of their beauty. But Lizzie felt quite
dressed up beside her friend who wore
only a simple calico gown and plain
straw hat. She led Mattie from window
to window, pointing out precious
articles and rare jewels, quite as if she
had purse connections with them.</p>
<p>The girls glanced at Whitey as he
passed.</p>
<p>"Poor little dog!" Mattie said.</p>
<p>"Yes," returned Lizzie, "I should
think the policeman would shoot him."</p>
<p>"Why?" queried Mattie in surprise.</p>
<p>"Oh, he's so bad off."</p>
<p>Whitey was moving slowly. He
was rested and he thought to go on.</p>
<p>Somebody in a confectionery store
noticed the girls.</p>
<p>"Mamma, I do believe that's my old
belt that I threw in the rags one day,
for there's the cross I made on it at
school with ink."</p>
<p>"Nonsense," said the lady.</p>
<p>"And, oh, mamma, look at the poor
dog!"</p>
<p>Of all the people who were passing
four at least were interested in Whitey.
Alley and avenue—but the alley folks
first forgot him. They went back to
their diamonds.</p>
<p>Whitey's troubles had made him
meek and humble. He did not at this
time expect anything and he was out
of hopes and plans. He did not observe
any whisperings at the portals of
the big store nor see the wonder on the
face of the porter. What he did see
presently was a round pasteboard box
that the porter set down under his very
nose. It was torn a little at one side
and what was in the box began to melt
and run down to the pavement.</p>
<p>Whitey moved his ears a little at the
sight. It actually looked eatable. He
doubted if it was, but he put out his
tongue and touched it.</p>
<p>When Lizzie and Mattie turned again
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</SPAN></span>
they stood amazed. People were looking
amused as they passed and many
a heart was made glad and light. One
could read it in their faces. An unusual
kindness is a love-flash that
makes life sweeter to all who get it in
their eyes.</p>
<p>"I'll bet there's a quart there," said
Mattie.</p>
<p>"No, there ain't nuther. I guess a
sick dog couldn't eat a hull quart of
ice cream—it's jest a pint."</p>
<p>"Look how he licks it up. My! I'll
bet it's good!"</p>
<p>"He's a gulpin' to beat the band,"
returned Lizzie.</p>
<p>"He never hed it before, <i>I'll</i> bet."</p>
<p>"Or you nuther, Mattie Black."</p>
<p>"You can't talk much," answered
Mattie.</p>
<p>By this time Whitey had cleared up
his spread pretty thoroughly. Not a
drop lingered in the circle at the bottom
of the box and the pavement was
dry.</p>
<p>Whitey walked over to the side of
the building and lay down in the sun.
He put his nose between his paws.
His body was as thin and forlorn as
ever, but away at the tip of his pink,
shabby tail was a little, short-lived
wag. It was the language of gratitude
and hope. It had been absent for days—ever
since he was lost. The little
girl who had caused it was riding home
in her carriage, but the alley folks took
note of it and they were appeased.
They no longer envied the dog.</p>
<p>As for Whitey, the rich cream
worked its work. As he lay in the sun
he felt new hopes and plans revive.
Of a sudden he remembered a bakery
where he had chanced to get some
plate scrapings. He would go again.
And go he did. His body and his
hopes were alike nourished with his
recent treat. Whitey actually walked
over to the bakery alley with a decided
and prolonged wag to his tail. The
ice cream had placed it there. It really
made the turning point for better times
for Whitey.</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<table class="sp2 mc w50" title="POPPY.">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td colspan="3"><span class="ac w100 figcenter">
<SPAN name="i_092.jpg" id="i_092.jpg"> <ANTIMG style="width:100%"
src="images/i_092.jpg" alt="" /></SPAN></span>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30">FROM KŒHLER'S MEDICINAL-PFLANZEN.</td>
<td class="x-smaller ac w40">POPPY.</td>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30">CHICAGO:<br/>
A. W. MUMFORD, PUBLISHER.</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<p class="bq"><span class="sc">Description of Plate.</span>—<i>A</i>, flowering
plant, white variety; <i>B</i>, flower of
red variety; 1 pistil and stamens;
2, stamen; 3, pollen grains; 4 and 5,
pistil; 6, ripe capsule; 7, 8, 9, seed.</p>
</div>
<h2><SPAN name="THE_POPPY" id="THE_POPPY"></SPAN>THE POPPY.<br/> <span class="xx-smaller"><span style="font-weight:lighter;"> (<i>Papaver somniferum L.</i>)</span></span></h2>
<p class="ac">DR. ALBERT SCHNEIDER,<br/>
<span class="smaller">Northwestern University School of Pharmacy.</span></p>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse">Sleep hath forsook and given me o'er</div>
<div class="verse">To death's benumbing opium as my only cure.</div>
<div class="verse ar">—<i>Milton, S. A. l. 630.</i></div>
</div></div>
<div class="p2">
<ANTIMG class="drop-cap" src="images/initial_t.jpg" alt="" /></div>
<p class="drop-cap">THE opium-yielding plant or
poppy is an herb about three
feet in height; stem of a pale
green color covered with a
bloom. Branches are spreading, with
large, simple, lobed or incised leaves.
The flowers are solitary, few in number,
quite large and showy. The four
large petals are white or a pale pink
color in the wild-growing plants. The
fruit is a large capsule, one to three
inches in diameter, of a depressed globular
form. The seeds are small and
very numerous, filling the compartments
of the capsule. In spite of the
general attractiveness of the plant, the
size of the flowers and the delicate
coloring of its petals, it is not a favorite
at close range because of a heavy,
nauseating odor which emanates from
all parts of the plant, the flowers in
particular. The petals furthermore
have only a very temporary existence,
dropping off at the slightest
touch.</p>
<p>The wild ancestor of our familiar
garden poppy is supposed to be a native
of Corsica, Cyprus, and the Peloponnesian
islands. At the present time
it is extensively cultivated everywhere,
both as an ornamental plant and for
its seeds, pods, and yield of opium.
It has proven a great nuisance as a
weed in the grain fields of England,
India, and other countries—something
like mustard in the oat fields of the
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</SPAN></span>
central states. There are a number
of forms or varieties of the cultivated
poppy. The red poppy, corn poppy,
or rose poppy (<i>Papaver Rhoeas</i>) is very
abundant in southern and central
Europe and in western Asia. It has
deep red or scarlet petals and is a very
showy plant. The long headed poppy
(<i>P. dubium</i>) has smaller flowers of a
lighter red color and elongated capsules,
hence the name. The Oriental
poppy (<i>P. orientale</i>) has very large,
deep red flowers on a tall flower-stalk.</p>
<p>Various plants belonging to other
genera of the poppy-family (<i>Papaveraceæ</i>)
are designated as poppy. The
California poppy (<i>Eschscholzia Californica</i>)
is a very common garden plant.
It has showy yellow flowers and much
divided leaves. Horn poppy (<i>Glaucium
luteum</i>) is a rather small seaside
plant, with long curved pods and solitary
yellow flowers. The Mexican
prickly poppy (<i>Argemone Mexicana</i>) is
widely distributed. The pods and
leaves are prickly, flowers yellow or
white; the seeds yield an oil which is
used as a cathartic. Spatling or frothy
poppy (<i>Silene inflata</i>) is so-called because
when punctured by insects or
otherwise it emits a spittle-like froth.
Tree poppy (<i>Dendromecon rigidum</i>) is
a shrub six to eight feet high, with
large, bright yellow flowers. Welsh
poppy (<i>Mecanopsis cambrica</i>), a plant
found in the wooded and rocky parts
of western Europe, has sulphur-yellow
flowers and is cultivated for ornament.</p>
<p>The use and cultivation of the poppy
dates from very remote times. The
plant was well known in the time of the
eminent Greek poet Homer, who
speaks of the poppy juice as a dispeller
of sorrows (Odyssey, IV. l. 220). According
to Plinius the word poppy
(<i>Papaver</i>) is derived from <i>papa</i>, meaning
pap, the standard food of infants,
because poppy juice was added to it
for the purpose of inducing sleep. The
ending <i>ver</i> is from <i>verum</i>, meaning
true; that is, this food was the true
sleep-producing substance. Opium,
the inspissated juice of the poppy
pods, was apparently not known in the
time of Hippocrates, only the freshly
expressed juice being used. It is
through Diocles Karystius (350 B. C.)
that we obtain the first detailed
information regarding the use of
opium. Nicandros (150 B. C.) refers
to the dangerous effects produced
by this drug. Scribonius Largus, Dioscorides,
Celsus, and Plinius gave us the
first reports regarding the origin, production,
and adulteration of opium.
Plinius mentions the method of incising
the capsules. The Arabians are
said to have introduced opium into
India. It appeared in Europe during
the middle ages, but was apparently in
little demand. It was much more
favorably received in the Orient. In
1500 it constituted one of the most important
export articles of Calcutta.
India supplied China with large quantities
of opium, at first only for medicinal
purposes. It is said that the
Chinese acquired the habit of smoking
opium about the middle of the seventeenth
century, and since then it has
ever been the favorite manner of consuming
it.</p>
<p>The poppy is cultivated in temperate
and tropical countries. The opium
yield of plants grown in temperate
climates is, however, much less than
that of the subtropical and tropical
countries, though the quality is about
the same. There are large poppy
plantations in India, China, Asia Minor,
Persia, and Turkey. As already indicated,
the white-flowered variety is
quite generally cultivated because it
yields the most opium.</p>
<p>The plants are grown from seed, and
it is customary, in tropical countries,
to sow several crops each season to insure
against failure and that collecting
may be less interrupted. Plants of
the spring sowing flower in July. The
pods do not all mature at the same
time; this, coupled with the sowing of
several crops at intervals of four to
six months, makes the work of collecting
almost continuous. Before the pods
are fully developed they are incised
horizontally or vertically with a
knife. Generally a special knife with
two and three parallel blades is used.
The blades of the knife are repeatedly
moistened with saliva to prevent the
poppy juice from adhering to them.
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</SPAN></span>
The incisions must not extend through
the walls of the capsule, as some of
the juice would escape into the interior
and be lost. As soon as the incisions
are made a milky sap exudes,
which gradually thickens, due to
the evaporation of moisture, and becomes
darker in color. The following
day the sticky, now dark-brown juice,
is scraped off and smeared on a
poppy leaf held in the left hand; more
and more juice is added until a goodly
sized lump is collected. These sticky,
ill-smelling masses of opium are now
placed in a shaded place to dry. The
entire process of incising and collecting
as carried on by the Orientals is
exceedingly uncleanly. To the nasty
habit of moistening the knife-blade
with saliva is supplemented the filth
of unwashed hands and the sand and
dirt of the poppy leaves, which are
added from time to time to form a new
support for the juice as it is removed
from the knife. In scraping the gum
considerable epidermal tissue is also
included. Each lump of gum opium
contains therefore a mixture of spittle,
the filth of dirty hands, poppy leaves,
sand, and dust. In addition to that
many collectors adulterate the gum
opium with a great variety of substances.
Dioscorides mentions the fact
that even in those remote times adulteration
of opium was practiced, such
substances as lard, syrup, juice of lactuca,
and glaucium being added. Modern
collectors and dealers adulterate
opium with sand, pebbles, clay, lead,
flour, starch, licorice, chicory, gum
arabic and other gums, figs, pounded
poppy capsules, an excessive quantity
of poppy leaves and other leaves, etc.
After collecting and drying the peasants
carry the gum opium to the market-places,
where they are met by the
buyers and merchants, who inspect the
wares and fix a price very advantageous
to themselves.</p>
<p>The present trade in opium is something
enormous, especially in India,
China, and Asia Minor. To the credit
of the Chinese and the discredit of the
English it must be said that in 1793 the
former strenuously objected to the introduction
of opium traffic by the latter.
This opposition by the Chinese
government culminated in the "Opium
War," which led to the treaty of Nanking
in 1842, giving the English the
authority to introduce opium into
China as a staple article of commerce.
The reason that Chinese officials objected
to the introduction of opium
was because they recognized the fact
that the inhabitants very readily acquired
the habit of smoking opium.
In spite of the most severe government
edicts the habit spread very rapidly
after the treaty referred to.</p>
<p>Gum opium contains active principles
(alkaloids), to which it owes its peculiar
stimulating, soporific, and pain-relieving
powers. Of these alkaloids,
of which there are about nineteen, morphine
and codeine are undoubtedly the
most important. The properties of
gum opium represent therefore the
collective properties of all of the alkaloids
and are similar to the properties
of the predominating alkaloids just
mentioned.</p>
<p>Physicians generally agree that opium
is the most important of medicines.
Properly used it is certainly a great
boon to mankind, for which there is no
substitute, but, like all great blessings,
it has its abuses. It is the most effective
remedy for the relief of pains and
spasms of all kinds. It will produce
calm and sleep where everything else
has failed. It finds a use in all diseases
and ailments accompanied by severe
pain, in delirium, rheumatic and neuralgic
troubles, in dysentery, etc. It
may be applied externally to abraded
surfaces, to ulcers and inflamed tissues
for the relief of pain. The value
of opium does not lie so much in its
direct curative powers as in its sedative
and quieting effects upon diseased organs,
which tends to hasten or bring
about the healing or recuperating process.
In some diseases the physician
refrains from giving opium, as in fully
developed pneumonia, since the quieting
effect would diminish the efforts
on the part of the patient to get rid of
the inflammatory products accumulating
in the air vesicles and finer bronchial
tubes. In fact, the soothing effect
is too often mistaken for a curative
effect and the patient is neglected. The
Roman habit of feeding children pap
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</SPAN></span>
mixed with poppy juice was a pernicious
one. Many modern mothers give
their sick and crying infants "soothing
syrups," most, if not all, of which contain
opium in some form, as tincture
of opium and paregoric. Too often
the poor, overworked mother, who
cannot afford to consult a physician,
will purchase a bottle of "soothing
syrup" or "cough remedy" for her
child because she knows it produces a
quieting effect, which is mistaken for
a cure, when in reality the incipient
symptoms are only masked. Only a
reliable physician should be permitted
to prescribe opium in any form.</p>
<p>The harm done through the use of
opium by the ignorant, abetted by the
"inventors," manufacturers and sellers
of the "soothing syrups" and "cough
remedies," is insignificant as compared
with the harm resulting from the opium
habit, which is acquired in various
ways. For instance, a patient learns
that the opium given him relieves pain
and produces a feeling of well-being;
hence, even after recovering, he returns
to the use of the solace of his
sickness when he suffers mental or
physical pain, and in time the habit is
acquired. The scholar knowing its
properties makes use of it to deaden
pain and to dispel imaginary or real
mental troubles. Any and all classes
may acquire the opium habit, but the
majority of opium-eaters are from the
lower and middle classes. As with
other vices, the predisposing cause is
a lack of moral stamina. Women are
more addicted to the habit than men.
After the habit is once established it
is practically impossible to break away
from it.</p>
<p>Under the influence of the narcotic
the opium-eater becomes mentally
active, hilarious, and even brilliant.
Thoughts flow easily and freely. In
time the patient loses all sense of moral
obligation; he boasts and lies apparently
without the least trouble of conscience.
As soon as the effects of the
drug pass away he becomes gloomy,
morose, despondent, and he will resort
to any measure to obtain a fresh supply.
The dose of the drug must be increased
continually, until finally quantities
are taken which would prove
fatal to several persons not addicted
to its use.</p>
<p>Opium victims take the narcotic in
various ways. The Chinese and Orientals
in general prefer to smoke the crude
opium in special pipes. Europeans and
Americans usually take it internally in
the form of the tincture or laudanum,
paregoric or the powder of the sulphate
of morphine or codeine. Frequently
a solution of morphine is injected under
the skin by means of a hypodermic
syringe. No matter how it is taken
the effects are about the same.</p>
<p>The treatment of the opium habit
consists principally in the gradual
withdrawal of the supply of the drug
and strengthening the weakened system
by proper exercise and diet, but, as
indicated, the habit, if once fully established,
is very difficult to cure. While,
as stated, most of the opium-eaters belong
to the poorer and middle classes,
there are a number from the wealthy
idle classes and not a few from professional
classes who are slaves to the
habit. The brilliant and gifted De Quincey
was addicted to this habit and
recorded his experience in his "Confessions
of an Opium-Eater."</p>
<p>The capsules and seeds of the opium
plant are also used. The capsules are
collected at maturity, but while yet
green, usually during the month of
July. They are broken and dried in a
shaded, well-ventilated place, and
finally in a moderately warm place;
they are then broken in still smaller
pieces, the seeds shaken out and the
capsule fragments placed in well-sealed
glass or tin receivers. The seeds, which
are known as maw seeds, are collected
at maturity and placed in wooden
boxes. The seeds yield an oil which
is used much like sweet oil; artists also
use it in mixing colors.</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</SPAN></span></p>
</div>
<h2><SPAN name="THE_PRIMROSE" id="THE_PRIMROSE"></SPAN>THE PRIMROSE.</h2>
<p class="ac">PROF. WILLIAM KERR HIGLEY,<br/>
<span class="smaller">Secretary of The Chicago Academy of Sciences.</span></p>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">What can the blessed spring restore</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">More gladdening than your charms?</div>
<div class="verse">Bringing the memory once more</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Of lovely fields and farms!</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Of thickets, breezes, birds, and flowers</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Of life's unfolding prime;</div>
<div class="verse">Of thoughts as cloudless as the hours;</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Of souls without a crime.</div>
<div class="verse ar">—<i>Mary Howitt.</i></div>
</div></div>
</div>
<div class="p2">
<ANTIMG class="drop-cap" src="images/initial_a.jpg" alt="" /></div>
<p class="drop-cap">AMONG the many beautiful blossoms
to be found in the field,
the forest, or the garden probably
none have served to inspire
the poet more than the primrose and
its near relative, the English cowslip.
Someone has said that "no flowers
typify the beautiful more strongly than
those of the primrose which, though
showy, are delicate and seem inclined
to retire to the shade of the plant's
leaves."</p>
<p>These plants belong to the Primrose
family (<i>Primulaceæ</i>) which includes
twenty-eight genera and over three-hundred
and fifty species. Nearly all
are natives of the Northern hemisphere,
some being found as far north as Greenland
(the Greenland primrose). Some
of the species are Alpine, and a few
are found in the southern portions of
South America and Africa. One of
the most interesting wild species of this
family is the shooting star or American
cowslip, which grows abundantly on
the prairies of the Eastern portion of
the United States. Dr. Erasmus Darwin
tells us that "the uncommon beauty
of this flower occasioned Linnæus to
give it the name <i>Dodecatheon</i>, signifiying
the twelve heathen gods."</p>
<p>The family as a whole seems to have
no economic value of importance and
are of use to man simply to beautify
his surroundings. Many of the species
are very interesting to the scientific
observer, for the structure of their
flowers is such that they are peculiarly
adapted for cross-fertilization. This
character has made it possible for the
floriculturist to produce many of the
beautiful forms that are found in cultivation.
The generic name of the primrose
is <i>Primula</i> from the diminutive of
the Latin word <i>Primus</i>, meaning first.
The blossoming of the plants in the
early spring led Linnæus to give them
this name. It is said that their name
was also applied, during the middle
ages, to the European daisy (<i>Bellis
perennis</i>).</p>
<p>This genus, <i>Primula</i>, is the type of
the family and contains about one hundred
and fifty species from which have
been produced, both in nature and
under cultivation, many hybrid forms,
one investigator claiming to have found
more than twenty in the Alps alone. The
species are found distributed throughout
the cooler regions of Europe and
Asia and a few are natives of North
America.</p>
<p>The common or English primrose
(<i>Primula vulgaris</i>), by careful culture,
produces a wonderful number of variations.
The wild forms produce only
yellow single flowers while from those
under cultivation are developed numerous
varieties, both single and
double, which vary greatly in color—red,
pink, white, purple, and many
shades of each.</p>
<p>The cowslip primrose (<i>Primula veris</i>)
is also a native of England. The flowers
are yellow and nodding, and the
plants emit a strong odor of anise.</p>
<p>The Himalaya Mountains are probably
more rich in beautiful and interesting
species and varieties than any
other locality. Here is found the most
beautiful of all the primroses, the delicate
rose-colored form (<i>Primula rosea.</i>)</p>
<p>This species of primrose should
not be confounded with the evening
primrose, of which there are about
twenty species, all American. The
yellow flowers of the latter appear in
the summer, opening at night, the thin
and delicate petals withering the next
day.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</SPAN></span></p>
<table class="sp2 mc w50" title="PRIMROSE.">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td colspan="3"><span class="ac w100 figcenter">
<SPAN name="i_102.jpg" id="i_102.jpg"> <ANTIMG style="width:100%"
src="images/i_102.jpg" alt="" /></SPAN></span>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30">CHICAGO:<br/>
A. W. MUMFORD, PUBLISHER.</td>
<td class="x-smaller ac w40">PRIMROSE.<br/>
6/7 Life-size.</td>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30">COPYRIGHT 1900, BY<br/>
NATURE STUDY PUB. CO., CHICAGO.</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</SPAN></span></p>
</div>
<h2><SPAN name="THE_EGRETS_YOUNG" id="THE_EGRETS_YOUNG"></SPAN>THE EGRET'S YOUNG.</h2>
<p class="ac">ELIZA WOODWORTH.</p>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Beside a quiet stream the egrets build,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">And, friendly, crowd their nests of wattled sticks</div>
<div class="verse">In clustered trees, then patient keep unchilled</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Their sea-blue eggs, and hear the first faint pricks</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Against the shells; and soon each wistful brood</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Beneath the mother's breast will doze or wake;</div>
<div class="verse">And soon each parent pair will wing with food</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">From waded shallows brown, and marsh and brake.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Between the flights they rest and tranquil look</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Far down the glade from boughs or dusky nests,</div>
<div class="verse">And see the deer that wend beside the brook,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">And partridge coveys, with their freckled breasts.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Oh, lives like sunny hours! Oh, peaceful glade,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Where glow the early flowers! What hunters steal</div>
<div class="verse">Along the stream, with rifles softly laid</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">At hand, while slips the skiff on noiseless keel?</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">The shots half-blind the air with curling haze,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">And from his lookout perch the watcher falls;</div>
<div class="verse">The nested mother lifts her head to gaze,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">And wounded, flutters down with hollow calls.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">And, bleeding prone, perchance she mourns her young,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">And hears, as far away, their startled cries,</div>
<div class="verse">And longs for pleasant haunts she lived among,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">While in an anguished dream she slowly dies.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">From off the gentle head they cut the crest,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">They loose the wedding
<SPAN name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</SPAN> plumes which veil the wings</div>
<div class="verse">And rend the beauty-tuft from out the breast—</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Then each a mangled body downward flings.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">The dimmed white forms strew all the blossomed ground,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">While clustered trees but bear the wailing young;</div>
<div class="verse">Their plaintive little voices shrilling, sound</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">From swiftly chilling nests, once gayly swung.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Unfathered broods! In vain with hunger-calls</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">They grieve through woeful hours the helpless air;</div>
<div class="verse">Unmothered nests! How cold the darkness falls</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">On harmless, tender heads, uncovered there.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">They live the painful night and feebly stir</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">At dawn; with famine shine the golden eyes;</div>
<div class="verse">They gape their mouths and seem to hear the whir</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Of mother-wings speed past through empty skies.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">And no more piteous sight the sun may see</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Than where those parent birds lie dead; nor wakes</div>
<div class="verse">A sadder tone than the forsaken plea</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Of famished broods that o'er their silence breaks.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Fainter and fainter sink the whispered cries,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">As wanes the life and creeps the deadly chill,</div>
<div class="verse">Till wings are numb, and closed the hungry eyes,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">While droop the downy heads, <i>and all is still</i>.</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<div class="footnotes">
<div class="footnote">
<p><SPAN name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></SPAN>
<SPAN href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[1] </span></SPAN>
The wedding plumes, which are esteemed the most valuable of all, are worn by the birds only during
brooding time. Hence the special reason for hunting egrets at that season.</p>
</div>
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</SPAN></span></p>
</div>
<h2><SPAN name="SPONGES" id="SPONGES"></SPAN>SPONGES.</h2>
<div>
<ANTIMG class="drop-cap" src="images/initial_a.jpg" alt="" /></div>
<p class="drop-cap">A SPONGE when brought to the
surface by the diver is a fleshy-looking
substance covered with
a firm skin whose openings
appear and disappear at intervals.
When the diver cuts it the interior
looks like raw meat with numerous
canals and cavities. The first thing
they do is to remove the flesh, and
this must be done at once, since
otherwise putrefaction would set in,
which would destroy the elasticity.
This leaves merely the skeleton of the
animal which has to be further cleansed
before it is ready for the market.</p>
<p>The skeleton is nearly related in
structure to silk, and this helped to
settle the ancient dispute as to whether
sponges were animal or vegetable.
Their stationary life gave reason to the
belief in their vegetable nature, while
they multiply, like plants, by overgrowth
and budding. They puzzled
scientists for centuries, and one authority
regarded them as worms' nests. In
reality the sponge is a colony of little
animals called polyps which occupy a
sort of apartment house together, rearing
families just as other animals do.</p>
<p>The surface of a sponge is covered
with little holes, as you have observed,
that are larger at the top than at the bottom,
while the whole mass contains a
system of channels. When the animal
is alive water is kept flowing constantly
through these channels by means of
minute, hair-like appendages, which
the little polyps agitate. The water
thus drawn in brings with it the food.</p>
<p>The finest sponges come from
Tripoli, and along the shores of
the Mediterranean, the possessions
of Turkey being the best field, the
Spanish, French, and Italian coasts
being, strange to say, devoid of
them. The coarser kinds of sponges
are found in the West Indies and off
the Florida coast, none of the finest
grade existing in American waters.
The average value of Florida sponges
is 80 cents a pound, while those from
the Turkey coast are often worth
as much as $50 a pound. There are
many sponge beds along the coast of
Florida, at well-protected places
fenced in with natural fortifications and
dams. They are carefully watched until
reaching maturity, and are finer than
those living wild in the sea.</p>
<p>After three years the sponges are
ready for harvest. The choicest then,
the full-grown ones, are pulled up, the
others being left to reproduce until of
larger size. Every year the value of a
sponge farm increases, and enormous
crops are yielded. It is easy to gather
sponges here, for the water is clear and
they are easily raised with a pole or
tongs.</p>
<p>It is not so in Tripoli, however.
There the work has to be done by
divers, and as the fisheries have been
so well worked, it is necessary for the
divers to go deeper and deeper for
them every year. Only the most desperate
men are willing to undertake
the task, notwithstanding they are paid
ten times the usual wage paid to men
in that country. Out of 600 divers employed,
150 to 200 die each season,
either from asphyxiation, paralysis, or
cuts from their knives. The diver in
Tripoli seldom has diving-bells or
suits such as are used in Europe
and America. He goes down into
the ocean, sometimes to the depth
of 100 fathoms, taking with him a
flat piece of stone of a triangular
shape, with a hole drilled through one
of its corners. A cord from the boat
is attached to this stone and he uses it
to guide him. Upon reaching the growing
sponges he tears them off the rocks
or cuts them with a sharp knife, places
them under his arms, and then pulls at
the rope, which gives the signal to the
men in the boat to haul him up. The
work is said to be done not so well by
means of a diving-bell, the utmost care
being necessary that the delicate organisms
should not be torn. Sponges obtained
by dragging are torn and sell
for low prices. Those secured at such
risk are the best and are used by
surgeons in delicate operations. They
do not grow as rapidly in the Mediterranean
as in our water, an ordinary
bath sponge, measuring about a foot in
diameter, being ten years old.—<i>E. K. M.</i></p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</SPAN></span></p>
</div>
<h2><SPAN name="COMMON_MINERALS_AND_VALUABLE_ORES" id="COMMON_MINERALS_AND_VALUABLE_ORES"></SPAN> COMMON MINERALS AND VALUABLE ORES.</h2>
<p class="ac">IV.—COPPER AND LEAD ORES.</p>
<p class="ac">THEO. F. BROOKINS, B. S.</p>
<div>
<ANTIMG class="drop-cap" src="images/initial_t.jpg" alt="" /></div>
<p class="drop-cap">THE first metal that was employed
by man is copper. It is probable
that prehistoric man made
use of the metal in its native
condition only, as no knowledge of
metallurgy would be essential in preparing
it for use from that condition.
Copper implements have been found
in the lake dwellings of Switzerland,
and bronze, an alloy of copper and tin,
is mentioned in the writings of Homeric
times.</p>
<p>Cuprum, the origin of our English
word copper, is derived from cyprium,
which refers to the occurrence of the
metal in especial abundance on the
island of Cyprus, the main source of
the metal during the epochs of early
alchemy. In the Hebrew scriptures
copper is termed Nehósheth (from
nahásh, meaning to glisten) which is
translated by Χαλκος
and by Aes in the Vulgate. Later <i>Aes
cyprium</i> was the special designation,
which was finally shortened to <i>cyprium</i>,
as indicated above. Thus we see that
our present term represents in no sense
the characteristic of the metal at first
so noticeable.</p>
<p>Native copper scarcely needs a description.
Its occurrence in the free
state provides an interesting subject of
conjecture. Briefly stated, the question
of origin is whether the copper
was set free by the decomposition
of silicates or was in the form of a
sulphide in the rock. The chief region
of occurrence of native copper is
the Lake Superior district. Here are
found occasionally large masses of
copper, which, strange as it seems, are
practically valueless if too heavy to
transport, since they cannot be divided
without great difficulty. Of the world's
total output of copper in 1897, 399,250
long tons<SPAN name="FNanchor_A_2" id="FNanchor_A_2"></SPAN>
<SPAN href="#Footnote_A_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</SPAN>, a single mine of the Lake
Superior region, the famous Calumet
and Hecla, produced 40,350 long tons.</p>
<p>Montana is now the first copper producing
state in the United States. The
state contains the largest mining camp in
the world, located in the town of Butte.
In 1897 the mines of Montana produced
102,800 long tons of copper. The ore
chalcocite, sometimes called copper
glance, has a metallic luster, often tarnished
green or blue. It is commonly
lead-gray and rather soft. Its streak
is a blackish lead-gray, Chalcopyrite,
a sulphide of copper and iron combined,
has already been mentioned under
"Iron Minerals"
(<SPAN href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/48141/48141-h/48141-h.htm#Page_191">November issue of
<span class="sc">Birds and All Nature</span></SPAN>.) When copper
is much in predominance the color
of the ore is golden yellow. The streak
is dark green. The mineral is harder
than chalcocite, but less hard than
pyrite, being easily scratched with a
knife. Both chalcocite and chalcopyrite
frequently occur in silver-bearing
rocks.</p>
<p>A method of extracting copper from
its ores, equally useful with regard to
any of the ores, is known as the English
process. The details of this are
too elaborate and technical for consideration
here. In brief, the process consists
of six distinct parts—roasting the
mixed ores, fusion of the roasted ores
to produce coarse metal, roasting the
coarse metal, fusion of the wasted
coarse metal to produce what is known
as white metal, roasting of the white
metal to produce blister copper, i. e.,
copper filled with cavities, and finally
the refining and toughening of the
blister copper until marketable copper
is yielded. The English method of
copper smelting is classed among the
so-called "dry" processes, in contradistinction
from "wet" processes, or
methods involving the use of solutions.</p>
<p>It may be of interest to know the
importance of copper in that curious
problem of ancient alchemy, the transmutation
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</SPAN></span>
of metals. Metallic iron
placed in certain solutions of unknown
composition possessed the power to
precipitate metallic copper. With all
the wondrous faith in the problems of
alchemy the phenomenon was interpreted
as one of transmutation and
the statement made that iron had been
transformed into copper.</p>
<p>Within the last few years a remarkable
increase in the output of the copper
mines of the world has been recorded.
This is due mainly to the demand
for copper on account of the
great strides in electrical achievements
during recent years. Yet there is no
doubt that the world's supply is wholly
adequate to meet demands on it for a
long period to come. The high conductivity
of copper renders it especially
useful for conveying electric
currents and its most important use at
present is in electricity. However, it
is also a common convenience in many
arts. Its alloys are numerous, bronze
and brass being the most common.
Bronze is an alloy of copper and tin
and brass of copper and zinc. The
manufacturer of bronze bells finds
opportunity for an interesting study of
the alloy used in his product. The
varying tones of bells are due to the
different percentages of copper and
tin used in the bell metal.</p>
<p>In locality and mode of occurrence
lead is somewhat closely allied with
copper, and the ores of lead and zinc
are almost invariably associated. Hence
a description of lead naturally follows
that of copper and may also be understood
as typical, so far as occurrence
and mining methods are concerned, for
that of zinc.</p>
<p>Lead occurs in nature chiefly in the
forms of the sulphide, galenite or galena,
the sulphate, anglesite and the
carbonate, cerussite. Galena is lead-gray,
quite soft, and frequently occurs
in a coarsely crystalline condition, the
crystals often being cubical. The luster
is metallic, hence a superficial examination
of a specimen might result
in mistaking the mineral for the copper
ore, chalcopyrite, already described.
The streak will serve to identify any
specimen, however, it being a lead-gray
of much lighter shade than that
of chalcocite. Anglesite and cerussite
are far less abundant than galena. The
former varies from white through gray
to yellow and has a resinous luster.
Cerussite is white or gray, resembling
anglesite, and has a brilliant, vitreous
luster. Both minerals, like galena, are
soft and easily scratched with a knife.</p>
<p>The ores of lead are widely distributed
throughout the United States and
it is difficult to assign boundaries to
special districts. Galena occurs in
small quantities—too small for profitable
working—throughout the Appalachian
region, and is found in paying
quantities in what is known as the
Missouri lead district. In the Colorado
and other western mines the ore
is found in silver-bearing veins. Were
it not for the presence of silver in those
veins the production of lead from them
would probably practically cease, as
the anglesite, the principal lead ore of
the veins, does not occur in amount to
pay for working the mines for that
product alone.</p>
<p>White lead, used in paints, is the
most important use of the metal. Painters
prefer the product to zinc-white
chiefly because it is much more opaque
and possesses a much greater covering
power. Much lead is made into pipes
for conveying water. Pure lead is not
used for the making of shot, but instead
an alloy of lead and arsenic.
Unlike pure lead, the alloy assumes a
spherical form when dropped through
the air. "Shot towers" are constructed
to make use of this property in the
manufacture of shot. The demands
for lead have not been increased by
recent extraordinary development of
any of the arts employing the metal,
hence the world's output of lead during
the past decade has had a normal
increase. For the year 1897 the total
production of lead was 725,200 metric
tons.</p>
<div class="footnotes">
<div class="footnote">
<p><SPAN name="Footnote_A_2" id="Footnote_A_2"></SPAN>
<SPAN href="#FNanchor_A_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></SPAN> The common short ton is 2,000 pounds; the long
ton contains 2,240 pounds; the metric ton equals 2,204
pounds. It will be noted that statistics of the production
of different metals frequently employ different
tons as units.</p>
</div>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</SPAN></span></p>
<table class="sp2 mc w50" title="ORES.">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td colspan="3"><span class="ac w100 figcenter">
<SPAN name="i_113.jpg" id="i_113.jpg"> <ANTIMG style="width:100%"
src="images/i_113.jpg" alt="" /></SPAN></span>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30">CHICAGO:<br/>
A. W. MUMFORD, PUBLISHER.</td>
<td class="x-smaller ac w40">ORES.<br/>Full size.</td>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30">COPYRIGHT 1900, BY<br/>
NATURE STUDY PUB. CO., CHICAGO.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30">Chalcopyrite</td>
<td class="x-smaller ac w40"></td>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30">Anglesite</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30">Cerussite coating Galenite</td>
<td class="x-smaller ac w40"></td>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30">Native Copper</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30">Galenite</td>
<td class="x-smaller ac w40"></td>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30">Chalcocite</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</SPAN></span></p>
</div>
<h2><SPAN name="THE_YOUNG_NATURALIST" id="THE_YOUNG_NATURALIST"></SPAN> THE YOUNG NATURALIST.</h2>
<div>
<ANTIMG class="drop-cap" src="images/initial_b.jpg" alt="" /></div>
<p class="drop-cap">BEES.—Honey is made from many
substances. Not only do the
flowers give up their nectar to
the honey bees, but various
other sources of sweets are visited by
bees with profit. Clover honey is one
of the most common kind, although it
is all white clover honey, for the honey
bee has too short a tongue to reach
into the long tubes of the red clover
which the bumble-bees are so fond of.
Sweet-clover yields nectar which makes
good honey. A dark variety of honey
comes from the flowers of buckwheat,
and the basswood tree which the German
poets sing about, calling it by the
name of linden, bears such a wealth of
flowers which the honey bees like that
it is swarmed day after day by so many
bees that the tree seems to hum with
pleasure. You can often hear the bees
in a basswood tree before the tree itself
is in view in the forest. Orange trees
are also favorites with the honey-makers.</p>
<p>Broken fruits are often sucked by
bees to get material for honey, and
cider left in a dish where they can get
at it will be visited by them. A mixture
of almost any sweet liquid will
attract honey bees, and they are so
careless of its exact nature that they
have been known to store up and make
into honey substances that are not good
for human beings to eat. One of the
favorite forms of adulteration among
those who keep bees for profit is to
place glucose and water where they
can get at it. They will readily fill
their combs with this cheap material
and seem to do very much more work
in the course of a season by having
placed within easy reach a mass of
material that they do not have to
work for.</p>
<p>Margaret Warner Morley, in her
charming little book, "The Bee People,"
which has just come from the
press of A. C. McClurg & Co., Chicago,
tells how bees frequently make honey
from "honey dew." This is a sweet
and sticky substance that is found
upon the upper side of all sorts of
leaves in some localities and has caused
a great deal of wonder as to where it
comes from. The writer tells of the
mountain children she saw in the Carolinas
plucking these leaves and licking
the honey-dew from them, enjoying
their treat much as city children enjoy
what they get at the candy store. She
says the honey-dew is made by the little
insects called ants' cows or aphides.
The sweet liquid is thrown out from
their bodies, and ants are so fond of it
that some of them have been said to
keep "cows" and take great care of
them in order to enjoy the sweet they
get from their bodies.</p>
<p>The aphides eat the juice of the
leaves they rest on and change it into
honey-dew. Resting on the under side
of a leaf and feasting royally, they become
so full that the honey-dew spurts
from their bodies and showers the
upper sides of the leaves below. Sometimes
the insects are so thick upon the
leaves of a magnolia tree that a shower
of sweets comes down upon its lower
leaves and the grass below. Trees and
bushes shine with the dew, and when
dust settles upon the sticky surfaces it
is decidedly disagreeable.</p>
<p>Pliny, the first great naturalist, said
he thought honey-dew was "the perspiration
of the sky, the saliva of the
stars, or the moisture deposited by the
atmosphere while purging itself, corrupted
by its admixture with the mists
of the earth." Bees gather it and make
it up into honey. Squirrels are fond
of it, and gather the leaves one at a
time, hold them up in their paws, and
lick them with apparent relish.</p>
<p>There are so many truly wonderful
things about bees which this talented
writer has collected and told in simple
language that her book is one of the
most valuable of recent contributions
to the libraries of those who enjoy the
wonders of nature. Although written
evidently for children it is of absorbing
interest to adults, and furnishes a fund
of material for conversation and observation
which will make it very much in
demand among teachers and parents.</p>
<p>The growth of the bee, the drones,
the workers, and the queens, with all
the details of their structure as revealed
by the microscope, the making of their
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</SPAN></span>
curious homes, their odd customs and
habits, their strange enemies, and a
thousand other interesting features,
make the subject one of great interest,
and we cannot sufficiently honor the
memory of the blind naturalist, Huber,
who found out more things about bees
after he lost his sight than all the
world ever knew of them before his
time.</p>
<p>BAD GERMS.—In our bodies is
constantly going on a great fight between
germs of various sorts, if we are
to believe those who know most on
the subject. Microbes are all about
within us, some of them apparently
striving to do us good and others trying to
kill us. In a few cases men of
science have been able to find one kind
of germ that will destroy another that
is hurtful to the human system. By cultivating
many sorts of germs together
and separately they have come to
know a great deal about what microbes
like and what they cannot bear. The
so-called poisons of diphtheria and
typhoid fever have been recognized as
having certain forms and characteristics,
and a way of killing them off at
wholesale has been found, and so we
are not so much afraid of these diseases
as we were before these discoveries
were made. The germs of cholera and
yellow fever are now well enough
known to be controlled by sanitary
measures, and the doctors are hot on
the track of the bacillus of consumption.
What relief the world will have
when these germs are killed before they
have had time to do their deadly work!</p>
<p>A DESERT LIGHT.—In Arizona
there is an important well which stands
in the desert where its presence would
not readily be known, but for the fact
that a light now swings from a tall
cotton-wood pole so as to light travelers
who are within several miles of it
in the night. Before the lantern used
to be hung there many people died
when they might have reached its
waters if they had only known how
near and in which direction the well
really was. Some have died horrible
deaths of thirst when only a short distance
from its refreshing waters. In
order to pass that point travelers have
to carry large loads of water to quench
their thirst until they reach this well.
The number of gallons a company has
means either life or death to all. Some
time ago a German boy staggered up
to the tanks shortly after dark. He
had lain down expecting to die with
thirst in despair of getting to water,
when he saw the light of the cabin of
the keeper of the well. So Joe Drew
keeps his lantern up at night that
others may see the signal from afar and
come without delay to the waters.</p>
<p>MINER'S LUCK.—One of the most
profitable mines in South America is
the Penny mine in Bolivia. Penny
was a run-away Scotchman from a
man-o'-war who had nothing and hoped
for nothing but to keep away from
service on the sea. He did odd jobs
about the country for awhile and was
brought low with fever. He was faithfully
nursed through the disease by a
native woman who could not speak a
word of English. Out of gratitude he
married her and treated her well. She
rewarded him by taking him into the
mountains and showing him an old
Spanish mine that had been hidden
for years. He began working it and
became a millionaire. With a fellow-workman
by the name of Mackenzie he
brought the mine into a good state of
productiveness, and then left for the
old country. Mackenzie was made
superintendent of his mine, and Mackenzie's
son went with Mr. and Mrs.
Penny to Scotland. He arrayed his
Indian wife in the most costly attire,
and made his visit to Scotland memorable
by his many acts of generosity.
He adopted a nephew and insisted that
both young men should take his name
and become his heirs. He suddenly
died and left his wealth all to his wife,
with directions that the two sons
should be amply provided for. Complications
followed, and the Indian
mother died under suspicious circumstances,
while the boys contended for
possession of the mines. With all the
good fortune and excellent intentions
of the father the two boys proved to
be bad Pennies. They sold out their
interests for $500,000 each and are now
killing themselves with drink.</p>
<hr class="chap" /></div>
<div class="transnote">
<h3>Transcriber's Note:</h3>
<ul>
<li>Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note.</li>
<li>Other correction: De-Quincy changed to De Quincey (page 133).</li>
<li>Punctuation and spelling were made consistent when a predominant form was
found in this book; otherwise they were not changed.</li>
<li>Ambiguous hyphens at the ends of lines were retained.</li>
<li>Mid-paragraph illustrations have been moved between paragraphs
and some illustrations have been moved closer to the text that references them.</li>
<li>The Contents table was added by the transcriber.</li>
</ul></div>
<SPAN name="endofbook"></SPAN>
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