<SPAN name="startofbook"></SPAN>
<h1 style="margin-bottom:2em;"><SPAN name="BIRDS_AND_NATURE"></SPAN>BIRDS AND NATURE<br/> <span class="xx-smaller">ILLUSTRATED BY COLOR PHOTOGRAPHY.</span></h1>
<div class="vlouter">
<div class="volumeline">
<div class="volumeleft"><span class="sc">Vol. VIII.</span></div>
<div class="volumeright"><span class="sc">No. 3.</span></div>
<div class="ac">OCTOBER, 1900.</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<h2 style="margin-top:2em;"><SPAN name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></SPAN>CONTENTS.</h2>
<table class="toctable" id="TOC">
<tr>
<td class="c1"> </td>
<td class="c2"><span class="sc">Page</span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#OCTOBERS_BRIGHT_BLUE_WEATHER">
OCTOBER'S BRIGHT BLUE WEATHER.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">97</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#SONNET_OCTOBER">SONNET—OCTOBER.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">98</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#SONNET_AUTUMN">SONNET—AUTUMN.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">98</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#THE_COLUMBINE">THE COLUMBINE.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">101</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#THE_RUFFED_GROUSE">THE RUFFED GROUSE.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">102</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#THE_BLUE_GENTIANS">THE BLUE GENTIANS.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">107</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#TO_THE_FRINGED_GENTIAN">TO THE FRINGED GENTIAN.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">108</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#THE_BABY_LIONS">THE BABY LIONS.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">109</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#SUNFLOWERS_AND_DAISIES">SUNFLOWERS AND DAISIES.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">110</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#A_TRUE_STORY_OF_A_WAYWARD_BOB_WHITE">
A TRUE STORY OF A WAYWARD BOB WHITE.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">113</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#THE_OSWEGO_TEA">THE OSWEGO TEA.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">116</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#FLOWERS_AND_THEIR_UNBIDDEN_GUESTS">
FLOWERS AND THEIR UNBIDDEN GUESTS.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">119</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#HOW_WE_MAY_BEST_PAY_THE_DEBT">
HOW WE MAY BEST PAY THE DEBT.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">122</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#A_FEW_OF_THE_BIRD_FAMILY">A FEW OF THE BIRD FAMILY.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">125</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#THE_DOMESTIC_FOWL">THE DOMESTIC FOWL.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">125</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#BOB_WHITE">BOB WHITE.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">128</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#THE_RAINBOW_TROUT">THE RAINBOW TROUT.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">131</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#DAY_AND_NIGHT">DAY AND NIGHT.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">132</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#THE_GEOLOGICAL_SUCCESSION_OF_FISHES">
THE GEOLOGICAL SUCCESSION OF FISHES.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">133</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#THE_DEEP">THE DEEP.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">139</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#THE_AMERICAN_REDSTART">THE AMERICAN REDSTART.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">140</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="c1"><SPAN href="#THE_FLYING_FISH">THE FLYING FISH.</SPAN></td>
<td class="c2">141</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="OCTOBERS_BRIGHT_BLUE_WEATHER" id="OCTOBERS_BRIGHT_BLUE_WEATHER"></SPAN> OCTOBER'S BRIGHT BLUE WEATHER.</h2>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">O suns and skies and clouds of June,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">And flowers of June together,</div>
<div class="verse">Ye cannot rival for one hour</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">October's bright blue weather.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">When loud the bumble-bee makes haste,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Belated, thriftless vagrant,</div>
<div class="verse">And golden-rod is dying fast,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">And lanes with grapes are fragrant;</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">When gentians roll their fringes tight</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">To save them for the morning,</div>
<div class="verse">And chestnuts fall from satin burrs</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Without a sound of warning;</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">When on the ground red apples lie</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">In piles like jewels shining,</div>
<div class="verse">And redder still on old stone walls</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Are leaves of woodbine twining;</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">When all the lovely wayside things</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Their white-winged seeds are sowing,</div>
<div class="verse">And in the fields, still green and fair,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Late aftermaths are growing;</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">When springs run low, and on the brooks,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">In idle golden freighting,</div>
<div class="verse">Bright leaves sink noiseless in the hush</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Of woods, for winter waiting;</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">When comrades seek sweet country haunts,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">By twos and twos together,</div>
<div class="verse">And count like misers hour by hour,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">October's bright blue weather.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">O suns and skies and flowers of June,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Count all your boasts together,</div>
<div class="verse">Love loveth best of all the year</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">October's bright blue weather.</div>
<div class="verse ar">Helen Hunt Jackson.</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<p class="x-smaller">Copyright, 1900, by A. W. Mumford.</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</SPAN></span></p>
</div>
<h2><SPAN name="SONNET_OCTOBER" id="SONNET_OCTOBER"></SPAN> SONNET—OCTOBER.</h2>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse">Ay, thou art welcome, heaven's delicious breath!</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">When woods begin to wear the crimson leaf,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">And suns grow meek, and the meek suns grow brief,</div>
<div class="verse">And the year smiles as it draws near its death.</div>
<div class="verse">Wind of the sunny south! oh, still delay</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">In the gay woods and in the golden air,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Like to a good old age released from care,</div>
<div class="verse">Journeying, in long serenity, away.</div>
<div class="verse">In such a bright, late quiet, would that I</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Might wear out life like thee, 'mid bowers and brooks,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">And dearer yet, the sunshine of kind looks,</div>
<div class="verse">And music of kind voices ever nigh;</div>
<div class="verse">And when my last sand twinkled in the glass,</div>
<div class="verse">Pass silently from men, as thou dost pass.</div>
<div class="verse ar">—William Cullen Bryant.</div>
</div></div>
<hr class="chap" /></div>
<h2><SPAN name="SONNET_AUTUMN" id="SONNET_AUTUMN"></SPAN>SONNET—AUTUMN.</h2>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse">Thou comest, Autumn, heralded by the rain,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">With banners, by great gales incessant fanned,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Brighter than brightest silks of Samarcand,</div>
<div class="verse">And stately oxen harnessed to thy wain!</div>
<div class="verse">Thou standest, like imperial Charlemagne,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Upon thy bridge of gold; thy royal hand</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Outstretched with benedictions o'er the land,</div>
<div class="verse">Blessing the farms through all thy vast domain.</div>
<div class="verse">Thy shield is the red harvest moon, suspended</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">So long beneath the heaven's o'erhanging eaves;</div>
<div class="verse">Thy steps are by the farmer's prayers attended;</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Like flames upon an altar shine the sheaves;</div>
<div class="verse">And following thee, in thy ovation splendid,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Thine almoner, the wind, scatters the golden leaves!</div>
<div class="verse ar">—Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.</div>
</div></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</SPAN></span></p>
<table class="sp2 mc w50" title="WILD COLUMBINE.">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td colspan="3"><span class="ac w100 figcenter">
<SPAN name="i_004.jpg" id="i_004.jpg"> <ANTIMG style="width:100%"
src="images/i_004.jpg" alt="" /></SPAN></span>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30"></td>
<td class="x-smaller ac w40">WILD COLUMBINE.<br/>
(<i>Aquilegia Canadensis</i>).</td>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30">FROM "NATURE'S GARDEN."<br/>
COPYRIGHT 1900, BY<br/>
DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY.</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</SPAN></span></p>
</div>
<h2><SPAN name="THE_COLUMBINE" id="THE_COLUMBINE"></SPAN>THE COLUMBINE.</h2>
<p>Botanically the Columbine is called
Aquilegia, from the Latin word Aquila,
meaning an eagle, in reference to a fancied
likeness of the spurs of its flowers to
the talons of an eagle. It is one of the
crowfoot family (Ranunculaceae).</p>
<p>This pretty and herbaceous perennial is
distributed over most of the north temperate
zone and, if not altogether a child
of the mountains, it may be sought in
rocky or stony localities. One is surprised
to find the graceful Columbine, defying
the storms, with its roots carefully
fastened in the deep crevasses of the rocks
of rugged mountains and protruding its
nodding flowers above some steep ledge
where human foot has never trod. To
many a weary wayfarer this little hermit
flower has brought joy and pleasure.
Though attractive to the lover of flowers,
it is not met with in folklore nearly as
frequently as many other species of
plants that are far less attractive.</p>
<p>The genus Aquilegia includes about
twenty species and an endless number of
varieties, produced by the skill and intelligence
of the gardener. The United
States can claim the prettiest of all the
species of this widely distributed group.
One species is the Wild Columbine
(Aquilegia Canadensis) of our illustration.
It is common everywhere. Here
it is found covering rocky hills, softening
the harsh gray of the rocks with its delicate
foliage; there it enlivens the woodland
borders with its nodding and pretty
scarlet flowers, which are lined with
bright yellow. In the woods it is frequently
encountered, though not as robust
in its growth, as if in this sheltered
position less strength is required. Another
species, and the most elegant of all
the Columbines, is the blue Rocky Mountain
form (Aquilegia coerulea). It is at
home in the Grand Canon of the Colorado,
where its wild grace and untrammeled
native beauty is unsurpassed.
Among the other species that should be
mentioned are the Yellow Columbine
(Aquilegia crysantha) of the Western
States, and its sister, also yellow, the
Pubescent Columbine (Aquilegia pubescens)
of the Death Valley of California.
The Rocky Mountain and Yellow Columbines
furnish the finest garden forms and
are the parents of several beautiful varieties.
Europe has its common form
(Aquilegia vulgaris) and also Alpine species,
which, though outranked by our native
species, are the originals of many of
the single and double varieties of the
garden.</p>
<p>Though it has been stated that the Columbines
prefer the rocky hillsides, it
must not be supposed that they will not
tolerate a home in the border of a garden
flower bed. Like many other plants
of a similar nature, they thrive under cultivation,
where a sunny and sheltered position
is more suitable. One of the most
beautiful of the garden varieties, or hybrids,
is the double-flowered Skinner's
Columbine.</p>
<p>The Columbines have been called "the
flowers for the masses." Once started in
the garden they will propagate for years
and, although perennial, they increase
rapidly by self-sown seed. The young
plants will acquire sufficient size and
strength, before the close of the growing
season, to endure the trying winter
weather.</p>
<p class="ar">James Jensen.</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</SPAN></span></p>
</div>
<h2><SPAN name="THE_RUFFED_GROUSE" id="THE_RUFFED_GROUSE"></SPAN>THE RUFFED GROUSE.</h2>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse">Who knows the joy a bird knows,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">When it goes fleetly?</div>
<div class="verse">Who knows the joy a flower knows,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">When it blows sweetly?</div>
<div class="verse">Bird wing and flower stem,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Break them who would?</div>
<div class="verse">Bird wing and flower stem,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Make them who could?</div>
</div></div>
<p>This world is very beautiful and the
birds and flowers help to make it so.
When we think what the world would
be without the fluttering of wings and
the carols of birds, without the color
and perfume of the lilies and roses
and the myriads of wild flowers that
lift their pretty heads from banks of
dainty moss or nod to their reflection
in the clear waters of the brook, we
begin to feel what beauty they possess
and what a grace they give to our lives.</p>
<p>Birds have been named often from
their appearance. The name grouse
means gray hen, and this family of
game birds as a whole is of this color.</p>
<p>I must now tell you of a wonderful
thing that happened just a while ago.
You all know about the Queen's Diamond
Jubilee over in England? The
papers every day gave interesting accounts
of the Queen and her people,
how they loved her, how they applauded
her whenever she showed her
good, kind face to them.</p>
<p>I had said to my brother that I
wished I could see such a wonderful
jubilee, when he replied: "Can you
keep a secret?" "Of course you know
that I can!" "Listen, then," he whispered
softly, "if you wish to see some
things as strange as the Queen's Jubilee
be ready on your wheel at 11 tonight.
Say not a word to any one." "But
where are we going?" I asked. "That
I shall not tell you; if you care to come,
all right; if not, I shall go alone." Of
course I was ready. Our wheels
seemed to rise into the air, and, flying
swiftly as the wind, we at last alighted
in a nest of hills, a lovely spot. The
moonlight was shining and strange
winged figures were flitting about. One
of them challenged us, but when the
password, "Jubilee," was given he let
us pass. The air was filled with the
whirring of wings and the voices of the
birds. They seemed to be very busy
getting ready for some great event.
Suddenly a drumming noise was heard
and all the birds were still. Looking
at the open space I saw a log and
standing proudly there was a fine ruffed
grouse. Soon he spoke: "Brothers of
the grouse family, long have I waited
for this day. It is the proudest
moment of my life. To the broad
prairies and lofty hills of America I
bid you welcome, O, my brothers! I
am glad so many of the ladies are
present, too," and then Mr. Grouse
spread his ruff so wide that we could
hardly see his head, and made several
low bows to the grouse hens who
fluttered their sober gray wings. "In
the name of all the grouse in America
I welcome you. And now, brother and
sister grouse, I have the honor of introducing
the Cock-o'-the-woods, who
will take the log."</p>
<p>The drumming and whirring of wings
and cries of "Cock, cock!" that followed
this speech of the ruffed grouse
almost deafened us.</p>
<p>At last Mr. Capercailzie, called by
his intimate friends Cock-o'-the-woods,
advanced to the log. Ah, but he was
a handsome bird! Very large, he
weighed at least sixteen pounds, with
brilliant plumage of black, brown and
white, and dark green feathers in his
chest. The scarlet patches of skin
over his eyes were very bright in the
moonlight. He looked slowly around,
bowing to the applause, and said:</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"I thank you for your welcome. In
the name of all who have come from
distant lands, from Asia and Europe, I
thank you. We have come to hold a
Grouse Jubilee. Surely we may well
hold such a meeting and review our
history and accomplishments, if the
people who are really only new comers
into our lands can hold a jubilee over a
Queen whose family have been in England
but a few hundred years. What
are a hundred years in the history of
our family who lived in England and
northern Europe thousands of years
ago?</p>
<p>"I will call upon the willow grouse
to tell us the history of our famous
family as he knows it."</p>
<p>Slowly Mr. Willow Grouse advanced
to the log, chewing the bud of a birch
tree as he came.</p>
<p>He bowed and said: "Mr. Chairman,
you must excuse my slow speech, but
you know I am the eldest brother of
the grouse family and am not so strong
as I used to be. Our history is certainly
wonderful! Thousands of years
ago we came southward with the ice
and as the ice melted we flew north
again. Today we live in many lands.
I have traveled from Scandinavia with
my wife and children, flying over
Siberia and Alaska. My wife and I
dress alike and our gray summer suits
are good for traveling. In winter we
prefer white coats, for then the hunter
can not tell us from the snow." Just
then a bird near us muttered: "That is
nothing remarkable. I have three
suits every year." "Hush," said a bird
near him, "you must not interrupt."</p>
<p>But the willow grouse had finished,
and after the young grouse had given
him the front seat, for they are very
kind to the old, the grouse who had
boasted of his coats said: "Mr. President,
I come from the high mountain
peaks. Men call me ptarmigan or
winged, because I have such thick
plumage. As this is summer my legs
and feet are quite bare and my coat is
the color of the twigs, but you should
see my winter suit! It is thick and
soft and white as snow, and thick
downy stockings cover my feet. They
help me to make my way over the
snow. In the autumn my coat changes
to gray—the color of the rocks on the
mountain side. It is hard work sometimes
to find enough to eat so high up
in the mountains, but better a dish of
leaves in freedom than to live on plenty
in constant fear of the gun of the
hunter." "Cock, cock!" said the
grouse, and it sounded so much like
our "hear, hear!" that I almost laughed
aloud.</p>
<p>"The next number on our program
will be a waltz," said the chairman.
"A waltz," I thought; "grouse waltzing;
whoever heard of such a thing?" Just
then a handsome young capercailzie
came to the log. It is not strange they
are called the "cocks-of-the-wood," for
they are certainly the handsomest of
the grouse family. He puffed out his
feathers, strutted back and forth on
the log and began his waltz. It was a
comical sight! While he was dancing
he kept up the oddest singing—all on
one note. Soon a black cock joined
him and then they tried to show off.
Some hens favored the capercailzie
and some gathered around the black
cock. At last all took sides, and it
would have ended in a fight, only the
dignified chairman stopped the dance
and told them to remember that this
was not a fight, but a jubilee. The
cocks lowered their wings, but I believe
they will fight it out sometime.</p>
<p>"Let us hear from the red grouse;
let us hear from the red grouse!" cried
several birds at once. A small bird
with rich red-brown plumage came to
the log.</p>
<p>"This is the first time I have ever
been away from Great Britain," said
the red grouse, "and I must be back
for the 12th of August. That is an exciting
day! All summer my wife and
I keep with the children and live in
peace, but on that day the hunters
come. It is great fun to wait till they
come very near and then whiz past so
quickly that the shot does not reach
you!" "Great fun, indeed!" muttered
the ptarmigan; "fun for the hunter to
slay his thousands every year." "Yes,
that is true," replied the red grouse,
"but we live in safety all the year except
the hunting season. The keepers
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</SPAN></span>
and the hunters keep the eagle and the
fox and all our foes away, and our family
of red grouse in Scotland is larger
now than before the hunters came. It
is because we are on the moors that all
the wealthy people come to Scotland
in August. Thousands of strangers fill
the land, and they all come for us, the
little red grouse who live only on British
moors. We are proud of the fact
that we are the only bird that belongs
to Great Britain alone. We take care
of our young together, my mate and I,
and in October we join other families
and fly to the uplands."</p>
<p>Just here the hens of the capercailzie
and the black cock began a noisy clatter.
"I wish our husbands were like
the red grouse," said one. "I think it
is a perfect shame," said another; "my
mate never stays near the nest. When
I must leave the eggs to hunt for food
he is never there to keep them warm."
"I wish I were a willow grouse or a red
grouse," said another demure little hen.
The black cocks and the capercailzie
looked rather ashamed; even the chairman
hung his head, but he quickly
called the hens to order, saying: "Now
we will hear from our American friend,
the ruffed grouse."</p>
<p>"Wake up! Wake up! You have been
sleeping in the moonlight!" "Where
is the ruffed grouse?" I sleepily ask,
and then my brother laughs and asks
what I have been dreaming. So it was
all a dream, and the moonlight, the
pines, the grouse and the jubilee have
been but parts of a dream! "You awoke
me and now you must tell me about
the ruffed grouse," I say to my brother.</p>
<p>"Well, you must know that there are
many varieties of grouse in our broad
land, but the ruffed grouse is the
gamiest and handsomest in plumage of
all the grouse family. It is swifter on
the wing and harder to shoot.</p>
<p>"This bird is called ruffed grouse
because he can raise the numerous
wide soft feathers on each side of the
neck and make a ruff like those the
ladies used to wear when Elizabeth was
Queen of England.</p>
<p>"His favorite home is in the heavy
bird forests or in the thickets of the
scrub oak and he is seldom found in
places open enough for good hunting
with the dogs.</p>
<p>"When disturbed, the birds fly like
an arrow for the thickest shelter.
They dart behind the tree trunks or
light upon its branches, and are so still
and so exactly the color of the tree
that they look like part of it.</p>
<p>"The ruffed grouse are found in all
parts of the United States. They go
in pairs or in small companies. The
drumming noise made by the male
when he is calling his mate is a very
pleasant sound in the woods and may
sometimes be heard a mile away.</p>
<p>"He selects a hollow log, struts back
and forth upon it, and at last strikes
his sides with his wings so rapidly that
the noise resembles distant thunder.
When his mate comes he raises his ruff
until his head is almost hidden. He
spreads his tail like a fan, and tries to
make himself lovely in her eyes.</p>
<p>"They build their nest on the ground.
It is made of grass, twigs and leaves.
The mother-bird is very clever in protecting
her young brood. If she hears
someone near, she gives a cluck and
they disappear, while she moves slowly
along trying to lead the intruder away
from the nest. When she can get behind
a tree she flies swiftly away, coming
back to the nest when she thinks
all is safe.</p>
<p>"Go to sleep again and perhaps you
will have another dream," laughed my
brother. "That is all interesting, but
I am sorry I did not hear the ruffed
grouse tell his own story."</p>
<p class="ar">Florence Holbrook.</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="FRINGED GENTIAN.">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td colspan="3"><span class="ac w100 figcenter">
<SPAN name="i_016a.jpg" id="i_016a.jpg"> <ANTIMG style="width:100%"
src="images/i_016a.jpg" alt="" /></SPAN></span>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30"></td>
<td class="x-smaller ac w40">FRINGED GENTIAN.<br/>
(<i>Gentiana crintia</i>).</td>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30"></td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<table class="sp2 mc w50" title="CLOSED OR BLIND GENTIAN.">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td colspan="3"><span class="ac w100 figcenter">
<SPAN name="i_016b.jpg" id="i_016b.jpg"> <ANTIMG style="width:100%"
src="images/i_016b.jpg" alt="" /></SPAN></span>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30"></td>
<td class="x-smaller ac w40">CLOSED OR BLIND GENTIAN.<br/>
(<i>Gentiana Andrewsii</i>).</td>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30">FROM "NATURE'S GARDEN".<br/>
COPYRIGHT 1900, BY<br/>
DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY.</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_BLUE_GENTIANS" id="THE_BLUE_GENTIANS"></SPAN>THE BLUE GENTIANS.</h2>
<p>During the reign of King Gentius,
Illyria was devastated by the plague. So
great was the mortality among his subjects,
the pious king appointed a season
of fasting, and prayed that if he shot an
arrow into the air the Almighty would
direct its descent, guiding it to some herb
possessed of sufficient virtue to arrest the
course of the disease. The king shot the
arrow and in falling it cleft the root of a
plant which, when tested, was found to
possess the most astonishing curative
powers, and did much to lessen the ravages
of the plague. The plant from that
time on became known as the Gentian, in
honor of the good king, whose supplications
brought about the divine manifestation
of its medicinal properties.</p>
<p>The old herbalists called the Gentian
Baldmoyne, or Feldwode. The first of
these names is supposed to have been derived
from the Latin valde bona, meaning
very good. It was regarded as a
specific for poisons and pestilence, and an
excellent remedy for wounds caused by
mad dogs. The term Feldwode carries
the associations of the plant back to the
time of Greek myths and fables. Tellus,
the goddess of the earth, possessed the
power to produce plants potent for enchantments.
Hence, when Medea besought
Tellus to evolve a plant which
would give the element of renewed youth
to the mixture in her caldron, the goddess
produced the Gentian or Feldewode,
which restored to the aged Aeson the
freshness and vigor of youth.</p>
<p>The genus Gentiana includes nearly two
hundred species distributed from boreal
to tropical regions, although the majority
are found in the north temperate zone. A
large number of species are found in
Europe, more than sixty having been reported
from Russia, and there are nearly
one hundred in North America. Several
very beautiful forms come from the Swiss
Alps, which rarely attain a height of more
than three or four inches. The deep blue
flowers of these diminutive specimens retain
their color for years after being
pressed for the herbarium, thus differing
from many of the larger forms, whose
corollas quickly fade.</p>
<p>One of the most attractive and familiar
of the Gentians is the fringed or blue
Gentian (Gentiana crinita). It is generally
found in low grounds, along water
courses or ditches, and while quite generally
distributed, it is sparing of its favors,
as the long peduncles that terminate
the stems or simple branches, support
but a single flower. The plant grows to
a height of from one to two feet, and the
leaves, placed opposite to each other, have
rounded or heart-shaped bases attached
directly to the stems, entire edges and
tapering points. The sky-blue flower is
bell-shaped, nearly two inches long and
with the lobes strongly fringed. This is
partially enclosed by a calyx, which is
nearly as long as the corolla.</p>
<p>A much more common form, found
growing in fields and woodlands, is the
closed Gentian (Gentiana Andrewsii). The
fanciful name, Cloistered Heart, has been
given to the plant because of the story
that once a fairy queen sought to elude
pursuit by secreting herself in the flower
of a fringed Gentian. In order that she
might be more effectually shielded, the
plant closed the lobes of its corolla and in
gratitude the queen decorated the interior
of the flower with brilliant stripes. It is
in order to preserve this fairy painting
that the flowers have remained closed ever
since.</p>
<p>The closed Gentian has leaves with
rough edges and a narrow base. The
flowers are blue or occasionally white,
closed at the mouth, forming an inflated,
club-shaped corolla, with stripes on the
inside. They are arranged in clusters on
the ends of the peduncles or flower stems
and are from an inch to an inch and a half
in length. Both the fringed and the blue
Gentian bloom during the autumn
months and are among the most attractive
forms that mark the close of the floral
season.</p>
<p>The medicinal properties of the Gentian
are obtained from the root, which,
after being powdered, yields its remedial
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</SPAN></span>
qualities to water and alcohol. As a tonic,
it has been used from remote times and it
is said that the Swiss macerate the plants
in cold water, the sugar they contain
causing fermentation which results in a
spirituous liquor, bitter and unpleasant,
but much used by them. The root is
found as an ingredient in many of the
ancient receipts transmitted from the
Greeks and Romans, and is still employed
in a great variety of complaints.</p>
<p class="ar">Charles S. Raddin.</p>
<hr class="chap" /></div>
<h2><SPAN name="TO_THE_FRINGED_GENTIAN" id="TO_THE_FRINGED_GENTIAN"></SPAN> TO THE FRINGED GENTIAN.</h2>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Thou blossom bright with autumn dew,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">And colored with the heaven's own blue,</div>
<div class="verse">That openest when the quiet light</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Succeeds the keen and frosty night.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Thou comest not when violets lean</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">O'er wandering brooks and springs unseen,</div>
<div class="verse">Or columbines in purple dressed,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Nod o'er the ground-bird's hidden nest.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Thou waitest late, and com'st alone,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">When woods are bare and birds are flown,</div>
<div class="verse">And frosts and shortening days portend</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">The aged year is near his end.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Then doth thy sweet and quiet eye</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Look through its fringes to the sky,</div>
<div class="verse">Blue—blue—as if that sky let fall</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">A flower from its cerulean wall.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">I would that thus when I shall see</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">The hour of death draw near to me,</div>
<div class="verse">Hope, blossoming within my heart,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">May look to heaven as I depart.</div>
<div class="verse ar">William Cullen Bryant.</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</SPAN></span></p>
</div>
<h2><SPAN name="THE_BABY_LIONS" id="THE_BABY_LIONS"></SPAN>THE BABY LIONS.</h2>
<p>Girard, a great lion-hunter, once took
home with him two baby lions which
were a month old. The lioness was
about as large as a cat and the lion a
third larger.</p>
<p>The little lioness was very timid. If
anyone tried to caress her she would
repay him with a few blows from her
little paws. Her brother, whom they
named Hubert, was quite different. He
would sit quiet, looking with some
astonishment at all that passed, but
was not cross. He was idolized by the
children, who were ever fond of petting
him. The lioness could not be induced
to take sufficient food, and she finally
died. Hubert got along nicely and was
as healthy and strong as if he had been
reared in the forest.</p>
<p>He was taken to a camp of soldiers,
where he became the idol of the regiment.
He was always present at parade
and would play with the men during
leisure hours.</p>
<p>As he grew older his capers became
somewhat serious. He showed a liking
for sheep and donkeys, which made
it necessary for him to be chained.
Finally, after he had killed a horse and
dangerously wounded two men he had
to be caged.</p>
<p>Girard still continued to pet him,
however. Every night he would open
the cage, and Hubert would spring out
joyously, playing with him at hide-and-seek,
embracing him with an ardor that
was more affectionate than agreeable.</p>
<p>One night as they played Hubert
came very near strangling his master,
and probably would have succeeded if
the soldiers had not beaten him away.
That was the last time they played
hide-and-seek together.</p>
<p>Hubert was afterward sent to Paris.
Some time later Girard went to see
him. Hubert was lying half asleep, not
taking much notice of the visitors.
Suddenly he raised his head, his eyes
enlarged and there was a nervous
twitching of the muscles of his face.
He swung his tail from side to side,
showing that the sight of the well-known
uniform had aroused him. He
knew the uniform, but had not yet recognized
his old master. Girard approached
and thrust his hand into the
cage. It was a touching scene which
followed. The lion, without taking his
eyes from his master, put his nose to
the outstretched hand and began to
breathe deeply. With every breath his
eyes became more affectionate, and
when Girard said to him:</p>
<p>"Well, Hubert, my old soldier!" he
made a terrible bound against the bars
of his cage, which trembled beneath
his weight. He stood up, pressed
against the bars and tried to break
through them. He licked his old
master's hand with joy.</p>
<p>If anyone else came near the cage
he became very angry. At last Girard
went away, and when he was out of
sight Hubert made the cage tremble
with his cries and bounds.</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</SPAN></span></p>
</div>
<h2><SPAN name="SUNFLOWERS_AND_DAISIES" id="SUNFLOWERS_AND_DAISIES"></SPAN> SUNFLOWERS AND DAISIES.</h2>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse">The dayesye or elles the eye of day,</div>
<div class="verse">The emperice and flour of floures alle.</div>
<div class="verse ar">—<i>Chaucer, Good Women, l. 184.</i></div>
</div></div>
<p>The sunflowers are mostly large, erect,
perennial herbs, with the flowers characteristic
of the order Compositae. They
are natives of tropical America, but have
become widely distributed in cultivation,
appreciated on account of their large yellow
flowers. They not only thrive very
luxuriantly under cultivation, but spread
very quickly spontaneously. Every one
is familiar with the sunflower as it appears
in cultivation, hence no special description
shall be given of it. It is kin to
the iron weed, the dandelion, the golden
rods, the asters and the daisies.</p>
<p>It would be impracticable to describe
or mention all the species and varieties of
sunflowers and their numerous relatives.
We shall refer very briefly to a few of the
more common kinds. Helianthus annuus
is a commonly cultivated species.
The seeds of this plant furnish a very useful
oil; the flowers yield honey and a useful
dye; the stalks a textile fabric and the
leaves fodder. The seeds of this and
other species are also used as food, and
as a surrogate for coffee. The carefully
dried and prepared leaves have been used
as a substitute for tobacco in cigars.
Poultry eat the seeds very greedily and
thrive well upon them, due to the oil present.
It is also maintained that a large
number of sunflowers about a dwelling
place will serve as a protection against
malaria. An infusion of the stem is said
to be anti-malarial.</p>
<p>H. tuberosus, known as the Jerusalem
artichoke, has large tuberous roots which
are sometimes eaten when cooked or
pickled. Several species are said to have
decided medicinal properties. H. odora
is said to be carminative, diuretic, stimulant
and antemetic. H. rigida is tonic
and astringent. H. virgaurea of both
continents is also astringent and tonic.
In the eclectic school of medicine the infusion
of seeds is used as a mild expectorant,
and the expressed oil as a diuretic.
The diuretic properties are said to be due
to nitre, which occurs most plentifully in
the central pith of the stalks.</p>
<p>The medicinal virtues of the sunflowers
are very limited and uncertain. Their
principal use is that of a showy garden
plant. That they check or prevent malaria
is quite probable, because of their
draining effect upon the soil rather than
any medicinal property residing in the
plants themselves.</p>
<p>The daisies, of which the ox-eye daisy is
a well-known example, are garden and
field favorites. As already indicated, they
are kin to the sunflowers. The word
daisy is a contraction of the old English
words "dayes eye," that is, the eye of day,
meaning the sun, as indicated in the verse
from Chaucer. There are a great many
flowers known as daisies and again a
given one has a number of popular
names. For instance, Rudbeckia hirta
(see illustration) is variously designated
yellow daisy, black-eyed Susan, nigger
head, golden Jerusalem and ox-eye daisy.</p>
<p>The two plates illustrate the tall or
giant sunflower (H. giganteus) and the
daisy just referred to.</p>
<p class="ar">Albert Schneider.</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</SPAN></span></p>
<table class="sp2 mc w50" title="TALL OR GIANT SUNFLOWER.">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td colspan="3"><span class="ac w100 figcenter">
<SPAN name="i_029a.jpg" id="i_029a.jpg"> <ANTIMG style="width:100%"
src="images/i_029a.jpg" alt="" /></SPAN></span>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30"></td>
<td class="x-smaller ac w40">TALL OR GIANT SUNFLOWER.<br/>
(<i>Helianthus giganteus</i>).</td>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30"></td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<table class="sp2 mc w50" title="BLACK-EYED SUSAN OR OX-EYE DAISY.">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td colspan="3"><span class="ac w100 figcenter">
<SPAN name="i_029b.jpg" id="i_029b.jpg"> <ANTIMG style="width:100%"
src="images/i_029b.jpg" alt="" /></SPAN></span>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30"></td>
<td class="x-smaller ac w40">BLACK-EYED SUSAN OR OX-EYE DAISY.<br/>
(<i>Rudbeckia hirta</i>).</td>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30">FROM "NATURE'S GARDEN."<br/>
COPYRIGHT 1900, BY<br/>
DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY.</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="A_TRUE_STORY_OF_A_WAYWARD_BOB_WHITE" id="A_TRUE_STORY_OF_A_WAYWARD_BOB_WHITE"></SPAN> A TRUE STORY OF A WAYWARD BOB WHITE.</h2>
<p>Mother Bob White, with due maternal
care, had selected a most appropriately
concealed spot for her treasure. The
roughly constructed nest was built upon
high ground, and was artfully hidden at
the base of a tuft of dried grass. That the
necessary moisture, which adds vitality
and strength to the young should not be
lacking, she had deposited her eggs almost
upon the bare earth, only a thin,
but closely woven mat of dried grass intervening
between the nine white eggs
and the brown earth. The days of incubation
were divided between the two
old birds, the cock performing his share
of the parent's duties. When the hen
was collecting her food he would nestle
down upon the eggs with a care equally
as great as that bestowed by the mother.</p>
<p>After the chicks were hatched the cock
shook himself free of any and all responsibility,
and betook himself to the
meadows to enjoy the more liberal forage.
This desertion was most satisfactory to
the mother, for no doubt she wished to
have the entire training of the little ones
left strictly to her care. She would not
lead the chicks forth until sure of his departure.
What fluffy little brown beauties
they were as they dodged in and out
among the weeds and grasses, learning
their first lessons in the roughest school
of life, the school of experience! They
had many dangers to guard against, and
they learned that much work was required
of them before their insatiable little
appetites were satisfied. They must
brave attacks from foxes, skunks, weasels
and minks upon the ground, and at the
same time keep an alert eye upward for
the sudden advent of some hungry hawk
by day, or the relentless swoop of owls by
night. Their nights were spent in anxiety,
and, in fact, then they were most insecure,
as owls, and foxes especially, appreciate
a young quail and exert themselves
to capture them. Their caution,
however, could not interfere with their
obtaining a supply of food and water, so
they braved many dangers every hour of
their lives, and not many days after their
entrance into this world they had gained
the assurance which comes from meeting
and overcoming difficulties.</p>
<p>Mother Bob White had been carefully
guarding her little brown family, leading
them forth daily in quest of small bugs
and scattered seeds, always upon the lookout
for possible enemies, never failing to
flutter away, feigning a crippled wing,
should I chance to come upon her suddenly.
And on such occasions look as
quickly and intently as I might I seldom
caught a glimpse of those brown bodies
that so well obey the parting cry of warning,
uttered by the mother as she fluttered
just beyond my reach, leading me straight
away from her trembling family. Should
you wish to find one of the little chicks
you may do so by carefully feeling among
the tufts of grass and other decayed
brown vegetation nearest the spot where
one's eye lost them.</p>
<p>Upon one occasion I discovered several
of this little brood in a most peculiar
and interesting situation. I had startled
the mother-bird while she was leading her
young ones through a wood, the ground
thickly covered with dried leaves, and, as
she fluttered away from almost beneath
my feet, I dared not move for fear of
crushing one of the chicks. They scattered
and seemed to have disappeared on
all sides near me. Gazing intently upon
the mass of brown leaves, I was thinking
how I could extricate myself without
harming the hidden brood, when my eye
caught the slight motion of a leaf almost
against my foot. I stooped and gently
raised the leaf. It felt wonderfully heavy.
This oddity of weight prepared me for
the surprise yet in store. When the leaf
had been lifted a sufficient distance to enable
me to look beneath, I caught a
glimpse of a tiny brown rascal clinging
desperately. He was in the drollest of
positions, clinging feet uppermost.</p>
<p>I soon learned to know about where
Mrs. Bob White's brood could be found,
and they were quite grateful for the
crumbs scattered daily within their reach,
usually along an old and dusty wagon
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</SPAN></span>
road which passed but a short distance
from the spot where the nest had been.
The mother would lead her flock forth
where for a few minutes would be enacted
an amusing scene as she attempted their
education in the art of dusting themselves.
They would stand amazed, watching
the cloud of fine dust raised by their
teacher, until one by one, they seemed to
understand her meaning and then squatting
down in a circle, they made feeble
imitations of her vigorous motions.</p>
<p>Wayward Bob was one of this family
of nine, but as yet he had not been
named, and, indeed, had he been, it would
have taken a close critic to have distinguished
him from his relatives.</p>
<p>Bob, together with his brothers and
sisters, was seven days old and had
learned quite rapidly to pick small bugs
from the weeds and grasses, when a great
misfortune befell him and I fear but for
my timely assistance nine little homeless,
motherless quails would have sadly
longed for the sturdy care of their affectionate
guardian. I had repaired to the
old wagon road, to scatter a few crumbs
upon the ground and watch the antics of
my little friends. This time they were
later than usual in coming to their dusting
place. No doubt, the mother had
given them a wider knowledge of their
little world that day.</p>
<p>When they came, I caught sight of
them some distance from the side of the
road, wending their way through a tangle
of weeds near a large pile of stones. As
I looked a weasel darted from under those
concealing rocks. I cried aloud, and
rushed forward but my assistance came
too late for the heroic little mother; and
thus nine little orphans were thrust upon
me for support. The young ones were so
terrified by the suddenness of their affliction
that they gathered in a helpless knot
by the scene of the tragedy. I gently
lifted eight of the fluffy chicks and deposited
them in my hat. There was yet
one more to be cared for. He looked up
with an expression of trust and fear commingled.
I reached forth my hand to take
him, but, being a sturdy little fellow he
decided to take his chances in the wide
world, so he quickly darted from my hand
and disappeared among the many weeds
close by. I finally captured the willful
son, and fearing lest he should again
elude me, I carried him in one hand apart
from those in the hat. This is how a little
quail came to live with me, and he received
the sturdy name of Bob because of
its aptness to his nature.</p>
<p>Bob's brothers and sisters were given
to a bantam hen, who had made a failure
with her own brood. She was happy to
receive these new cares, and this time accomplished
her maternal duties to her entire
satisfaction, rearing all to their full
growth. But Bob went with me. I placed
a box in my room for him, and devoted
many pleasant moments to feeding him,
watching his growth, and training his
belligerent ways.</p>
<p>My little friend became a great mischief
as he grew older. He was allowed
full freedom that summer and fall and
his favorite pastime was annoying a brood
of late hatched chickens. Down he would
fly among those chicks, pecking at them
spitefully, until the mother forced him to
beat a hasty retreat.</p>
<p>One noon as the dining-room door
stood ajar, Bob entered with a whirr,
alighting upon the table when luncheon
was being served. The visitor helped
himself daintily from the contents of a
platter. I reached my hand toward the
pretty offender, but his fear of my touch
caused him to fly quickly aside. In doing
this he collided with a cup of tea, thus upsetting
it, and causing the contents to fall
upon my mother's gown. This act barred
him from the dining-room, and he then
contented himself by pursuing flies and
grasshoppers upon the lawn.</p>
<p>One day a large grasshopper alighted
upon my window. Bob's alert form came
a moment later, and he made a dart for
the coveted morsel. The grasshopper
flew across the room, alighting behind a
picture which was standing upon a table.
Bob, nothing daunted by his late failure,
flew rapidly across the room, and against
the picture. He had the grasshopper this
time, and it disappeared rapidly down his
brown throat; but that was not the end,
for the picture toppled forward and fell,
breaking the delicate frame work and
damaging a much prized portrait. This
act brought Bob disgrace and punishment.
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</SPAN></span>
He was not again allowed the full
liberty of the house.</p>
<p>My pet grew large and strong during
the fall and winter and I spent many
pleasant moments watching his mischievous
pranks and quaint actions.</p>
<p>Spring came at last, and the summer
songsters were arriving, treating us to
many a happy anthem. The blue bird
flitted by unnoticed. The robins were
building their nests, and that gaudy summer
visitor, the red-breasted grosbeak,
had arrived in the gorgeous splendor of his
spring plumage, when far away across the
sweetly scented meadows echoed the bob
white of my little pet's relatives. Bob
would listen with head alert to this call,
and then he would pace up and down his
box just as you have seen wild animals
do in a zoological garden. With all my
kindness I had failed to deaden his love
for the wild life of his kind. One day,
when Bob was perched upon my window
sill, there came from across the orchard
a sharp and clear bob white! This was
more than my little friend could withstand.
He walked up and down, seeking
vainly for a way to escape. In his sturdy
body the varied emotions of a captive
were contending. There was anxiety and
hope, anger and fear, love and hate, commingled
in his every motion.</p>
<p>Moved by my pet's desire for freedom,
I threw open the sash. Out he flew, with
a joyous whirr of his wings, and alighting
upon the garden fence, with his characteristic
energy, he uttered his first bob
white! clear and strong.</p>
<p>He remained near home, giving me a
good opportunity to watch his habits.
He daily came to the house for food, and
never was he disappointed, as I regularly
placed a handful of wheat where he
could reach it.</p>
<p>One day a great happiness entered the
life of my little friend. He was uttering
his call with the sweet tremulous notes of
a love-sick life. Borne from the upper
orchard there came an answering call
from another lover in search of a bride.
Bob's head went up higher and higher;
he hurried along on an old rail fence,
sending his challenge for combat across
to his rival, for lurking near was a little
brown form watching Bob's sturdy mien
with piqued interest. He sped quickly
to her side, she retreating farther and farther
away across the orchard to the place
where the other lover was watching and
waiting for the rival who had gained
favor in her eyes. Bob and his rival met
face to face in the dusty wagon road near
the spot where my pet's early life was
spent. Then there was a duel for love,
with the little modest brown lady-bird as
umpire and prize.</p>
<p>The rivals chased each other up and
down the dusty lane. At last Bob was
victorious, and his rival quickly took
wing, followed by the angry victor. Presently
Bob returned alone, and approached
his bride. She had laid a scheme to test
his love, and was now ready to abide by
the result of the conflict.</p>
<p>My little pet led his mate away through
the wavy grasses, a victor and a king over
the heart of his loved one. Several weeks
later, after a nest had been built and a
downy brood hatched, I came upon my
old pet. It was a sunny day, and while
strolling down an orchard path, Bob flew
down in front of me, where he stood,
trembling and terrified. Thinking to help
my old friend in his distress, I put forth
my hand to take him up. I should have
known him better. In an instant he was
changed. He eyed me with that old keen,
distrustful glance, rose quickly from my
feet, and flew rapidly away. Hardly had
he gone fifty yards when a pigeon hawk
that had been waiting and watching, darted
forth, and swooped down upon poor
Bob while in mid-air. A loud snap as the
hawk struck, a sharp cry from the bonny
victim, and a few feathers floating slowly
down told too pathetically of Bob's awful
fate. I gathered up the scattered
plumage, a memorial of the little wayward
quail I had fed and reared to maturity.</p>
<p>Bob seemed quite a patriot to me, as I
reflected upon his decision when he eluded
my hand that final time. "Liberty or
death," he seemed to say, as he flew rapidly
away. He exhibited that trait, in his
bird-like way, by which great men have
won fame and renown, so he, too, is
worthy of having his story related and his
life immortalized.</p>
<p class="ar">Charles Thompson.</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</SPAN></span></p>
</div>
<h2><SPAN name="THE_OSWEGO_TEA" id="THE_OSWEGO_TEA"></SPAN>THE OSWEGO TEA.</h2>
<p>The Labiatae, or family of mints, consists
of about one hundred and sixty
genera, including the one to which the
Oswego Tea of our illustration belongs.
Under these genera are classed over three
thousand distinct species. Many of these
are well-known plants, such as the mints,
pennyroyal, anise, bergamot, fennel, catnip,
sage, thyme, lavender and rosemary.
Representatives of this family are distributed
throughout the world in the temperate
and tropical regions. In fact, it is
one of the most cosmopolitan of the plant
families.</p>
<p>The characteristics of the family are
very marked. The foliage abounds in
volatile oils which generally give off an
aromatic odor, especially when the leaves
are bruised. The leaves are opposite and
usually arise from a four-sided stem. The
flowers, as a rule, are strongly two-lipped.
This character gives to the family its
scientific name, which is derived from a
Latin word meaning lip. The stamens
are attached to the corolla and are usually
four in number, two of which are
longer than the others. The ovary is four-lobed,
and the resulting fruit consists of
four nutlets, each containing one seed.</p>
<p>The Oswego Tea belongs to the genus
Monarda, a group of plants named in
honor of Nicolas Monardes, a Spanish
physician and botanist of the sixteenth
century. He wrote a number of valuable
papers on the medicinal and other economic
plants, especially treating of those from
America. This genus includes about ten
species, all natives of North America and
Mexico.</p>
<p>The Oswego Tea (Monarda didyma) is
frequently called Bee Balm, and locally it
is often known as Fragrant Balm, Mountain
Mint and Indian Plume. This plant
prefers a moist soil near the wooded
banks of streams and in the hilly and
mountainous regions of Canada and the
United States, east of the Mississippi
River. In North Carolina it is found at
an altitude of over five thousand feet.</p>
<p>The leaves are egg-shaped, elongated,
taper-pointed and more or less saw-toothed
on the margins. The floral leaves
are tinged with red of nearly the same
shade as that of the bright red and showy
flowers. The flowers which appear in
July, August and September and are
about two inches in length, are massed in
a dense, solitary and globular head, which
is situated at the end of the flower stalk.</p>
<p>The flowers produce an abundant nectar,
which attracts bumblebees, butterflies
and humming birds; these by transferring
the pollen from flower to flower
assist in the fertilization of the developing
seeds. The ordinary bees are barred
from the sweets of this plant because of
their short tongues, though some forms
will cut a hole in the side of the corolla
and obtain the nectar in this manner.</p>
<p>It is said that certain Indian tribes use
this bark in preparing a tea that is nearly
as palatable as that made from the ordinary
tea of commerce.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</SPAN></span></p>
<table class="sp2 mc w50" title="OSWEGO TEA OR BEE BALM.">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td colspan="3"><span class="ac w100 figcenter">
<SPAN name="i_041.jpg" id="i_041.jpg"> <ANTIMG style="width:100%"
src="images/i_041.jpg" alt="" /></SPAN></span>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30"></td>
<td class="x-smaller ac w40">OSWEGO TEA OR BEE BALM.<br/>
(<i>Monarda didyma</i>).</td>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30">FROM "NATURE'S GARDEN."<br/>
COPYRIGHT 1900, BY<br/>
DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY.</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</SPAN></span></p>
</div>
<h2><SPAN name="FLOWERS_AND_THEIR_UNBIDDEN_GUESTS" id="FLOWERS_AND_THEIR_UNBIDDEN_GUESTS"></SPAN> FLOWERS AND THEIR UNBIDDEN GUESTS.</h2>
<p>In the <SPAN href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/48523/48523-h/48523-h.htm#Page_59">
September number</SPAN> we considered
flowers and their invited guests, that
is the insects useful in carrying pollen.
The very things which attract useful insects
to flowers are attractive also to useless
insects. For example, nectar in a
flower seems just as desirable to an ant
as to a butterfly, but the ant is a creeping
insect and would be likely to lose the
pollen in passing from one plant to another.
If useless insects found free access
to flowers and carried off their food
supplies, the useful insects would soon
stop visiting them. It is of great advantage
to flowers, therefore, to have some
means of warding off the creeping insects.
It must not be understood that all
plants are equally successful in this matter,
or that any plant is always successful,
but there are certain things which seem
to hinder or discourage the approach of
creeping insects to flowers.</p>
<p>Perhaps ants may be taken as the best
illustration of the insects whose visits are
discouraged by flowers. They are very
much attracted to the food supplies in the
flower, especially the nectar, and are
among the most intelligent of insects,
often overcoming the most serious obstacles.
They will be considered in this
paper, therefore, as the insects which are
seeking the nectar and pollen of flowers
without invitation. A charming little
book upon this subject has been written
by Kerner, and translated into English,
under the title which appears at the head
of this paper. It is in this book that the
chief obstacles to such unwelcome guests
as ants are clearly stated.</p>
<p>Hairs.—One of the most common obstacles
to ants is a barrier of hair. For
some reason, ants dislike to cross such a
barrier. Travellers in tropical countries,
where ants abound, tell us that a hair rope
laid around a tent is a very effective barrier
against the invasion of armies of ants.
Hair is very commonly found upon
plants, and it may be noticed that it is apt
to increase in amount and prominence
towards or within the flower cluster. Sometimes
the flowers themselves are hairy outside,
and in the case of the trailing arbutus,
whose flowers close to the ground are in
special danger from creeping insects, the
flowers are filled with a fluffy mass of
hairs. In our illustrations, the wild columbine,
the Oswego tea, the sunflower,
and the ox-eye daisy are all hairy plants,
and difficult for ants to climb. In the
September number are illustrations of the
mallow, the lady's slipper, and the New
England aster, all of which are hairy and
discouraging to ants.</p>
<p>An interesting fact in connection with
the wild columbine may be noted. The
nectar is deposited in the knob-like bottom
of the long tubular spurs, and the entrance
is so carefully guarded that only
a long and slender proboscis, like that of
a moth or a butterfly can reach the nectar.
The bumblebees, however, have learned
this fact, and bite through the tips of the
spurs and steal the nectar. As a consequence,
the wild columbine is said to be
little visited by the proboscis-bearing insects,
and its pollination is seriously interfered
with.</p>
<p>Sticky excretions.—Some plants have
the power of excreting upon their surface
a sticky substance like mucilage. This
mucilage may be produced by hairs,
which are then called "glandular hairs,"
or it may appear directly on the surface
of the plant. When ants or other insects
try to cross such a barrier they are not
merely stopped but caught. Upon
"glandular" plants it is very common to
see small insects stuck fast, and it is more
than probable that the nourishing material
of their bodies is digested and absorbed
by the plant. In this way the plant
not merely stops the insect, but catches
and devours it.</p>
<p>A very common illustration of such a
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</SPAN></span>
plant is the "catchfly," whose name suggests
its power. The joints of its stem
are long, and near the upper end of each
joint is a band of mucilage. This series
of sticky bands forms a very effective
barrier to any insect trying to crawl up
the stem.</p>
<p>Isolation.—In some cases plants or
their flowers are isolated from creeping
insects by water, which forms a most
efficient barrier. This has been demonstrated
by housekeepers, who in the days
of "safes" were accustomed to set the
legs of the safe in cans of water to ward
off the invasion of ants. Of course, plants
standing in the water are well isolated,
and usually show no further device for
warding off creeping insects. There is
an interesting fact connected with one of
our water smartweeds, which has to do
with our subject. Ordinarily it stands in
shallow water, and is perfectly smooth;
but when occasionally the water dries up
the plant becomes hairy. That this has
anything to do with the danger from
creeping insects is unlikely, but the hairy
covering certainly appears at a very opportune
time.</p>
<p>The teasel was once extensively cultivated
as a fuller's plant, and one or two
species of it have become common as
wild plants, their dense and prickly flowering
spikes looking like swabs for
cleaning lamp chimneys. The plant is
tall and coarse, and is peculiar in that its
large opposite leaves unite by their bases
about the stem to form a cup. In this
way a series of cups is developed on the
stem, and in each cup there is water.
When a creeping insect crawls over the
edge of the cup he sees the stem rising
from a pool of water which must be
crossed. As there is a series of such
pools it is very unlikely that any such insect
reaches the showy cluster of flowers.</p>
<p>The so-called "travelers' tree" of the
tropics is a teasel upon a larger scale.
The enormous flower cluster is at the top
of the plant, and between it and the
ground is a series of very large water-containing
cups formed by the leaves.
The popular name has been given by
travelers who have been represented as
reaching a cup with a spear and piercing
it, thus obtaining a supply of water. The
story is very doubtful, and the water,
usually full of the macerating bodies of
insects, is still more doubtful.</p>
<p>Latex.—By this term is meant the
milky juice which some plants possess.
When such a plant is punctured or torn
the latex flows out, and as soon as it is
exposed to the air it becomes more and
more sticky until it hardens. It is from
the latex of certain trees that India rubber
is obtained, but it may be observed in
many plants, notably the milkweeds,
which have received their popular name
on account of it.</p>
<p>The milkweed may be used to illustrate
how latex may be of service in warding
off creeping insects. In many cases the
plant is entirely smooth, and the stems
of the flower cluster are even slippery.
When an ant reaches these slippery surfaces
it clutches for a hold and its sharp
claws pierce the tender skin of the plant.
Immediately a drop of latex oozes out
and becomes sticky, and when the ant
seeks to lift its feet there is resistance, and
in the struggle the claws clutch deeper,
more latex oozes out and becomes more
and more sticky, until finally the insect is
stuck fast. The flower clusters of certain
milkweeds are often found plentifully covered
with small captured insects.</p>
<p>Protective shapes.—Many flowers secrete
their nectar so that a creeping insect
cannot reach it, but the suitable insect
can. Illustrations are numerous, but
the following will suffice.</p>
<p>The wild columbine, represented in
one of our illustrations, secretes its nectar
at the bottom of long tubular spurs,
which can be traversed by slender probosces,
but are impassable to creeping
insects. Spurs are developed in many
flowers, notably the orchids, and they are
always associated with nectar secretion
and the visits of proboscis-bearing insects.</p>
<p>In the Pentstemon, a plant whose flowers
have two lips, as in the Oswego Tea
in our illustration, but not so prominent,
the nectar is secreted in a little pit. Across
the mouth of this pit one of the stamens,
modified for this purpose, is placed like a
drop-bar, leaving but a thin crevice leading
to the nectar pit. Through this crevice
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</SPAN></span>
a thread-like proboscis may be thrust,
but a creeping insect cannot pass.</p>
<p>In the snapdragon the two lips of the
flower are tightly closed, the lower one
decidedly projecting. Any small insect
reaching this lower lip as a natural landing
place finds no entrance. When the
bumble-bee alights upon the lower lip,
however, his weight depresses it and he
forces his way in, and in passing to another
flower effects pollination. It is interesting
to note that after this first and
important visit the lips remain open and
other insects pass in freely, "being invited,"
as some one has said, "to eat at
the second table."</p>
<p>In most of the orchids there is a very
complete adaptation of the flower to its
insect, by which almost every insect excepting
one special kind obtains nothing
for its visit. The nectar is usually in the
end of a long spur, and to obtain it the
head of the insect must just fit between
two sticky buttons to which the pollen-masses
are attached. The length of the
spur is nicely adjusted to the length of
the proboscis of the visiting insect, but
his head must also be of a certain breadth.
If an insect visits the flower with a proboscis
too short or too long, or a head
too broad or too narrow, its visit is unavailing.
The danger of such narrow
specialization is apparent in the case of
the orchids, for each plant is so dependent
upon a special insect that the disappearance
of the latter seriously endangers
the continued existence of the
former.</p>
<p>Protective closure.—It has long been
noticed that certain flowers open only in
the evening, the evening primrose being
a conspicuous example. These flowers
are adapted to the visits of the night-fliers,
the moths, and about clusters of
evening primroses numerous large hawk-moths
may be seen after sunset. During
the day the flowers are closed and safe
from the visits of any insect, but by opening
in the evening they are not only ready
for the visits of the night-fliers, but they
avoid the visits of most creeping insects,
notably the ants, who are not abroad
after "the dew falls."</p>
<p>Protection against grazing animals.—Although
we are considering the ways
by which creeping insects are checked in
their efforts to visit flowers, it seems pertinent
to mention the more universal
danger which comes from grazing animals.
If flowers were as attractive to
grazing animals as they are to insects
they would be in danger of wholesale destruction.
It can be observed, however,
that these animals as a rule avoid the
flowers of a plant, although they may
strip off its leaves. It is believed that this
avoidance is due to the fact that in or
about the flower cluster there are usually
secreted bitter, sour, or nauseous substances,
which grazing animals have
learned to avoid. It should not be imagined
that these substances are there for
that purpose, but being there the result
is that the flowers are avoided. It is unknown
how generally true this is, and the
effectiveness of this method of protection
may have been exaggerated. Those who
can observe cattle, however, are in a position
to test them with the flowers of the
various plants they are known to eat, and
determine how far they avoid them.</p>
<p>In conclusion, it may be of interest to
call attention to the great complexity of
relations existing among plants and animals
by repeating Darwin's famous illustration
known as "Cats and Clover." In
a certain district in England he observed
that the clover was pollinated by the bumblebees,
which had their nests in the
fields. It followed, therefore, that the
more the bumblebees, the more the
clover. He also observed that the field
mice preyed upon the young broods of
the bumblebees, and, therefore, the more
the field mice, the fewer the bumblebees
and the less the clover. When cats were
plenty and preyed upon the field mice it
followed that the more the cats, the fewer
the mice, the more the bumblebees, and
the more the clover. Therefore, the crop
of clover depended upon the presence of
cats in the neighborhood.</p>
<p class="ar">John Merle Coulter.</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</SPAN></span></p>
</div>
<h2><SPAN name="HOW_WE_MAY_BEST_PAY_THE_DEBT" id="HOW_WE_MAY_BEST_PAY_THE_DEBT"></SPAN> HOW WE MAY BEST PAY THE DEBT.</h2>
<p>In the <SPAN href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/48523/48523-h/48523-h.htm#Page_72">
last number</SPAN> of Birds and Nature
we saw that the debt we owe the
birds is by no means a small one, but
is really greater than we can hope ever
to fully repay. It is a debt of gratitude
for the good work the birds do in keeping
checked the increase of insect life
which would surely become a great
pest if very numerous; it is a debt of
money value for the fruits and grains
and other products of the earth which
the birds make possible by eating the
insects which eat the plants; it is a
debt of love for the pleasure and inspiration
which they bring with each
returning springtide, for the courage
which their cheerful endurance of all
sorts of bad weather inspires. There is
one best way to pay the debt, and that
way is to take such a lively interest in
the birds that we shall want to know
all about their lives and as much as we
can learn about the language they
speak and the thoughts they have.
When we have such an interest in them
we shall not want to kill them, but we
shall do what we can to make them
love us and trust us so they will no
longer want to fly away when we come
near them.</p>
<p>We shall be paying the debt we owe
to the birds when we try to make
friends with them, for there is nothing
greater or better than true friendship,
nothing that counts for more where
friends are so greatly needed. Our
first effort at making friends with the
birds is usually to give them something
to eat, forgetting or not knowing
that what is best for us may not be
good for them. After we have watched
them getting their own meals we shall
know what each bird likes best, and
then, instead of frightening them away
with food that they cannot eat, we shall
draw them to us by offering them what
they like best.</p>
<p>We may think that we shall be able
to learn all about the birds if we can
get them into a cage and study them
there. But birds are not free to do
what they want to do when they are
caged up, and there are many interesting
things about them that we shall
never know if we study only the caged
ones. What we want to know is the
bird just as he is as a free bird in the
fields and woods. We shall not be paying
much of the debt if we cage him
up even to study his habits.</p>
<p>What we need the most is the most
valuable to us. What the birds need
most is a place where they can live and
raise their young with the least danger.
All birds are surrounded by their natural
enemies, which are sure to kill a
great many of them, but with the addition
of cats, rats and human beings intent
upon killing them they seem to
have a poor chance of life. Then if we
can provide a place or places where
these enemies will be less sure to get
them and their eggs or young, we shall
be paying the debt we owe in the greatest
measure possible. Can we provide
any such safe retreats? I think we
can. Your own door yard may be
made such a retreat. Banish all cats
and dogs who love bird flesh. See to
it that stray cats and dogs are in danger
of their lives on your lawn or in
your yard. Let every boy know that
the birds on your premises must not
be disturbed in any way. Instead of
carefully trimming out all the tangles
of the vines and branches remember
that such places are where the birds delight
to build their nests. Put up bird
boxes and houses for the martins,
wrens, swallows and bluebirds and
keep the English sparrows out of them.
Make it easy for the birds while they
are feeding their young. In short,
give the birds which prefer your yard
a little attention and you will soon be
on friendly terms with them and they
will many times repay any trouble you
may put yourself to for their sakes.
Any study of the birds is not wasted
time, but time profitably spent.</p>
<p class="ar">Lynds Jones.</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</SPAN></span></p>
</div>
<h2><SPAN name="A_FEW_OF_THE_BIRD_FAMILY" id="A_FEW_OF_THE_BIRD_FAMILY"></SPAN> A FEW OF THE BIRD FAMILY.</h2>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">The old bob white, and chipbird;</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">The flicker and chee-wink,</div>
<div class="verse">And little hopty-skip bird</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Along the river brink.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">The blackbird and snowbird,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">The chicken-hawk and crane;</div>
<div class="verse">The glossy old black crow-bird,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">And buzzard, down the lane.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">The yellowbird and redbird,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">The tom-tit and the cat;</div>
<div class="verse">The thrush and that redhead bird</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">The rest's all pickin' at!</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">The jay-bird and the bluebird,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">The sap-suck and the wren—</div>
<div class="verse">The cockadoodle-doo bird,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">And our old settin' hen!</div>
<div class="verse ar">James Whitcomb Riley.</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<table class="sp2 mc w50" title="PLYMOUTH ROCK FLOCK.">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td colspan="3"><span class="ac w100 figcenter">
<SPAN name="i_054.jpg" id="i_054.jpg"> <ANTIMG style="width:100%"
src="images/i_054.jpg" alt="" /></SPAN></span>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30"></td>
<td class="x-smaller ac w40">PLYMOUTH ROCK FLOCK.</td>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30">CHICAGO:<br/>
A. W. MUMFORD PUBLISHER.</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<h2><SPAN name="THE_DOMESTIC_FOWL" id="THE_DOMESTIC_FOWL"></SPAN>THE DOMESTIC FOWL.</h2>
<p>The writers of antiquity used the term
fowl to include all the members of the
bird tribe and, in some cases, the young
of other animals. Feathered creatures,
no matter what their habits, were not
called birds, neither were they separated
into classes other than the "Fowls of the
Air," "Fowls of the Sea," "Fowls of the
Earth," and similar descriptive divisions.</p>
<p>In the seventeenth and the earlier part
of the eighteenth century, the word fowl
was applied to any large feathered animal
and the term bird to those of less
size. In early times the word bird was
used in the sense of brood and included
the young of all animals. In an early act
of the Parliament of Scotland we find the
expression "Wolf-birdis," referring to
the very young wolf.</p>
<p>At the present time the term fowl in its
wider sense is generally used to include
all the forms of farm poultry, both when
living and when prepared for food. More
specifically it is applied to the domestic
cock and hen, or, as they are more familiarly
called, chickens (Gallus domesticus).
The word chicken appropriately belongs
to the common fowl when under one year
of age, yet it is used to indicate those of
any breed and of any age between birth
and maturity. In this connection it is of
interest to note that in the English language
the common fowl has no distinctive
name. The term hen, frequently used,
should be applied only to the female of
this and other domestic fowls.</p>
<p>The progenitor of the common fowl is
generally conceded to be the Red Jungle
Fowl (Gallus ferrugineus or bankiva),
though there are three other wild species,
all oriental. This species is a native of
India, a part of China, the adjacent islands
and the Philippines. Its habits are
diversified, for we are told it may "be
found in lofty forests and in the dense
thickets, as well as in bamboo-jungles,
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</SPAN></span>
and when cultivated land is near its
haunts, it may be seen in the fields, after
the crops are cut, in straggling parties of
from ten to twenty."</p>
<p>This wild species closely resembles the
breed of poultry fanciers called the "Black-breasted
Game," but the crow of the wild
cock is not as loud or prolonged as that of
the tame one.</p>
<p>All the evidence that we possess seems
to indicate that this wild fowl was first
domesticated in Burmah. The Chinese,
as indicated by tradition, received their
poultry from Burmah as early as 1400 B.
C. Records show that about 1200 or 800
B. C., as some authorities hold, the eating
of the tame fowl was forbidden,
though the use of the wild fowl as food
was permitted.</p>
<p>It seems evident that the fowl reached
Europe, after domestication, about the
sixth century before the time of Christ.
It continued westward, for Julius Caesar
found it in Britain at the time of his conquests.
Both the wild and the tame
fowls are mentioned by the early Latin
and Greek writers. Homer writing about
900 B. C. does not refer to the fowl, but
it is mentioned by Aristophanes at a date
near 500 B. C. It is of interest to know
that the domesticated form is not mentioned
in the Old Testament.</p>
<p>It is said that some of the pagan tribes
living at the present time on the east coast
of Africa have a marked aversion to the
domestic fowl. This may account for the
absence of any representation of the fowl
on the ancient Egyptian monuments,
though it was represented on the Babylonian
cylinders about the sixth or seventh
century before Christ. In this connection
it should be mentioned that many
other people, notably the natives of the
islands adjacent to the Australian continent
and some of the Indian tribes of
South America, show a strong dislike to
this domestic bird as a food.</p>
<p>By selection, both natural and by man,
many breeds have been produced. Dr.
Charles Darwin says: "Sufficient materials
do not exist for tracing the history
of the separate breeds. About the commencement
of the Christian era, Columella
mentions a five-toed fighting
breed, and provincial breeds; but we
know nothing about them. He also alludes
to dwarf fowls; but these cannot
have been the same with our Bantams,
which were imported from Japan into
Bantam in Java. A dwarf fowl, probably
the true Bantam, is referred to in an old
Japanese Encyclopedia, as I am informed.
In the Chinese Encyclopedia published in
1596, but compiled from various sources,
some of high antiquity, seven breeds are
mentioned."</p>
<p>The number of breeds is very indefinite.
Darwin enumerates thirteen, including
many sub-breeds. The American Poultry
Association recognizes more than
thirty, with several varieties of some of
them. The game or fighting breed more
closely resembles the wild form of India
than do any of the others.</p>
<p>The Japanese, so noted for their wonderful
development of dwarfed trees, are
also the originators of the smallest fowls—the
Bantams. Another interesting
breed is called "Jumpers" or "Creepers."
Their legs are so short that they are compelled
to move by jumping.</p>
<p>The wild hen lays from eight to twelve
white eggs in nests, seldom of better construction
than a few dried leaves or grass
scratched together in a secluded spot. It
is said that "to every hen belongs an individual
peculiarity in the form, color,
and size of her egg, which never changes
during her life-time, so long as she remains
in health, and which is as well
known to those who are in the habit of
taking her produce, as the hand-writing
of their nearest acquaintance." We are
told that the tame hen raises a brood of
physically stronger offspring when allowed
to select her own nesting place in
some locality with natural surroundings.</p>
<p>The wild and the tame fowl alike eat a
variety of foods, both animal and vegetable,
but prefer the latter.</p>
<p>With reference to the habits and characteristics
of this interesting domestic
bird of our farm yards and orchards no
words can describe them more aptly than
those so delightfully written by Gail
Hamilton, when she says:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>"A chicken is
beautiful and round and full of cunning
ways, but he has no resources for an
emergency. He will lose his reckoning
and be quite out at sea, though only ten
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</SPAN></span>
steps from home. He never knows
enough to turn a corner. All his intelligence
is like light, moving only in
straight lines. He is impetuous and
timid, and has not the smallest presence
of mind or sagacity to discern between
friend and foe. He has no confidence in
any earthly power that does not reside in
an old hen. Her cluck will be followed to
the last ditch, and to nothing else will he
give heed.</p>
<p>I am afraid that the Interpreter was
putting almost too fine a point upon it,
when he had Christiana and her children
into another room where was a hen and
chickens, and bid them observe awhile.
So one of the chickens went to a trough
to drink, and every time she drank she
lifted up her head and her eyes toward
heaven. 'See,' said he, 'what this little
chick doth, and learn of her to acknowledge
whence your mercies come, by receiving
them with looking up.'</p>
<p>Doubtless the chick lifts her eyes
toward heaven, but a close acquaintance
with the race would put anything but acknowledgment
in the act. A gratitude
that thanks heaven for favors received,
and then runs into a hole to prevent any
other person from sharing the benefit of
these favors, is a very questionable kind
of gratitude, and certainly should be confined
to the bipeds that wear feathers.</p>
<p>Yet if you take away selfishness from
a chicken's moral make-up, and fatuity
from his intellectual, you have a very
charming creature left. For, apart from
their excessive greed, chickens seem to
be affectionate. They have sweet, social
ways.</p>
<p>They huddle together with fond, caressing
chatter, and chirp soft lullabies.
Their toilet performances are full of interest.
They trim each other's bills with
great thoroughness and dexterity, much
better, indeed, than they dress their own
heads, for their bungling, awkward little
claws make sad work of it.</p>
<p>It is as much as they can do to stand
on two feet, and they naturally make several
revolutions when they attempt to
stand on one. Nothing can be more ludicrous
than their early efforts to walk.
They do not really walk. They sight their
object, waver, balance, decide, and then
tumble forward, stopping all in a heap as
soon as the original impetus is lost—generally
some way ahead of the place to
which they wished to go.</p>
<p>It is delightful to watch them as drowsiness
films their round, bright, black eyes,
and the dear old mother croons them
under her ample wings, and they nestle in
perfect harmony. How they manage to
bestow themselves with such limited accommodations,
or how they manage to
breathe in a room so close, it is difficult
to imagine. They certainly deal a staggering
blow to our preconceived notions
of the necessity of oxygen and ventilation,
but they make it easy to see whence the
Germans derived their fashion of sleeping
under feather beds. But breathe and
bestow themselves they do. The deep
mother breast and the broad mother
wings take them all in.</p>
<p>They penetrate her feathers, and open
for themselves unseen little doors into
the mysterious, brooding, beckoning darkness.
But it is long before they can arrange
themselves satisfactorily. They
chirp, and stir, and snuggle, trying to
find the softest and warmest nook. Now,
an uneasy head is thrust out, and now a
whole tiny body; but it soon re-enters in
another quarter, and at length the stir and
chirp grows still. You see only a collection
of little legs, as if the hen were a
banyan tree, and presently even they disappear.
She settles down comfortably
and all are wrapped in a slumberous silence.</p>
<p>And as I sit by the hour, watching their
winning ways, and see all the steps of this
sleepy subsidence, I can but remember
that outburst of love and sorrow from the
lips of Him who, though He came to
earth from a dwelling place of ineffable
glory, called nothing unclean because it
was common, found no homely detail too
homely or too trivial to illustrate the
Father's love; but from the birds of the
air, the fish of the sea, the lilies of the
field, the stones in the street, the foxes
in their holes, the patch on the coat, the
oxen in the furrow, the sheep in the pit,
the camel under his burden, drew lessons
of divine pity and patience, of heavenly
duty and delight."</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</SPAN></span></p>
</blockquote></div>
<h2><SPAN name="BOB_WHITE" id="BOB_WHITE"></SPAN>BOB WHITE.</h2>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">Who's whistling so cheerfully down in the clover,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">When the meadows are wet with the sweet morning dew?</div>
<div class="verse">He's piping and calling, this ardent young lover,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">And telling his tale the whole morning through,</div>
<div class="verse">What is it he says in the early sunlight?</div>
<div class="verse indent5">"Bob White! Bob White!</div>
<div class="verse indent5">Bob—Bob White!"</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">At noon, when the day god in wrath has descended,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">With his swift golden arrows, on grain-field and hill;</div>
<div class="verse">And the birds of the morning their love songs have ended,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Then deep in the wood, and down by the rill</div>
<div class="verse">I hear a shrill whistle, so cheerful and bright:</div>
<div class="verse indent5">"Wheat ripe? Bob White!</div>
<div class="verse indent5">Not—not quite!"</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse">When shadows of evening are lengthening slowly,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">Ere the night dews lie damp on the meadows again;</div>
<div class="verse">As light breezes sweep o'er the soft grass so lowly,</div>
<div class="verse indent-2">What is it he says? I hear the refrain,</div>
<div class="verse">While in the thick verdure he's hid from my sight:</div>
<div class="verse indent5">"Good night! Bob White!</div>
<div class="verse indent5">Good—good night."</div>
<div class="verse ar">Effie L. Hallett.</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<hr class="sect" />
<p>It might almost be said that the birds
are all birds of the poets and of no
one else, because it is only the poetical
temperament that fully responds to
them. So true is this, that all the great
ornithologists—original namers and
biographers of the birds—have been
poets in deed if not in word. Audubon
is a notable case in point, who, if he
had not the tongue or pen of the poet,
certainly had the eye and ear and heart
and the singleness of purpose, the enthusiasm,
the unworldliness, the love,
that characterize the true and divine
race of bards.</p>
<p>The very idea of a bird is a symbol
and a suggestion to the poet. A bird
seems to be at the top of the scale, so
vehement and intense is his life—large-brained,
large-lunged, hot, ecstatic,
his frame charged with buoyancy and
his heart with song. The beautiful
vagabonds, endowed with every grace,
masters of all chimes, and knowing no
bounds—how many human aspirations
are realized in their free, holiday lives,
and how many suggestions to the poet
in their flight and song!</p>
<p class="ar">John Burroughs<br/>
in "Birds and Poets."</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</SPAN></span></p>
<table class="sp2 mc w50" title="RAINBOW TROUT.">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td colspan="3"><span class="ac w100 figcenter">
<SPAN name="i_066.jpg" id="i_066.jpg"> <ANTIMG style="width:100%"
src="images/i_066.jpg" alt="" /></SPAN></span>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30"></td>
<td class="x-smaller ac w40">RAINBOW TROUT.<br/>
(Salmo irideus.)</td>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30">COPYRIGHT 1900, BY<br/>
A. W. MUMFORD, CHICAGO.</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</SPAN></span></p>
</div>
<h2><SPAN name="THE_RAINBOW_TROUT" id="THE_RAINBOW_TROUT"></SPAN>THE RAINBOW TROUT.<br/> <span class="xx-smaller"><span style="font-weight:lighter;"> (<i>Salmo irideus.</i>)</span></span></h2>
<p>The rainbow trout is a native of the
mountain streams and lakes of the Pacific
coast, ranging from the coast of
Washington to San Diego, California.
It was first made known to science in
1855 by Dr. Gibbons from specimens
taken from Leander Creek, California.
It is an extremely variable species, varying
greatly in size, color, activity, etc.
Those found near the sea spend much
of their time in salt water, where living
is easier and as a result they grow
larger, lose their bright color and
much of their activity. They usually
return to fresh water with the salmon
to feast upon their eggs.</p>
<p>The following are the most important
varieties of the Rainbow Trout:
The Brook Trout of Western Oregon,
which is abundant in the streams of the
Coast Range from Puget Sound to
Southern California. Those taken in
the headwaters of these streams seldom
exceed a pound in weight, while
those taken from brackish water, having
spent considerable time in the sea,
usually weigh from one to five pounds.
The McCloud River Trout is abundant
in streams of the Sierra Nevada Mountains
from Mt. Shasta southward. It
grows to a large size, reaching, in the
larger and warmer bodies of water, a
weight of ten to fourteen pounds. This
variety is the Rainbow Trout of the
fish culturists. It has been planted in
many of our eastern streams, where it
has become more or less abundant.</p>
<p>The Kern River Trout is known
only from the Kern River in California.
It often reaches a weight of
eight pounds. The No-Shee Trout inhabits
the Sacramento basin; it often
reaches a weight of twelve pounds.
The Golden Trout of Mount Whitney
inhabits the streams on both sides of
Mount Whitney, California.</p>
<p>The varieties mentioned here are
usually recognized by students of
fishes, but the angler sees many more
varieties in different localities, and has
given to them other names, as Red
Sides, Mountain Trout, Brook Trout,
etc. The Rainbow Trout, when taken
from clear, cool water, is an extremely
handsome fish. It is usually bluish in
the upper part of the body; sides silvery;
the body is everywhere covered
with small, dark spots irregularly
arranged, and extending on the fins.
The side is usually provided with a red
band which extends on the sides of the
head. There is usually a dash of red
under the chin. As soon as the fish is
taken from the water its color changes.
The red lateral band will pass through
different shades of red, from a deep
dark color to light crimson. The captured
fish thus gives its captor a display
of bright color superior to that
possessed by any other fresh water
fish.</p>
<p>The Rainbow Trout is quite as handsome
as the Eastern Brook Trout and
affords the angler an equal amount of
sport. Those found in swift mountain
streams are strong swimmers. To
capture them with the rod the angler
must display the highest skill possible.
The same tactics which will catch a
Rainbow Trout in one stream may fail
in the next or even a second time in
the same stream. It matters not in
what mountain stream you fish the
trout you catch are always superior to
those you have previously taken in
other streams.</p>
<p>The food of the Rainbow Trout is
made up largely of worms, crustacea,
insect larvae and the like. In the fall
those in salmon streams feast on salmon
eggs. During the spawning time
of the salmon the trout in the ocean return
to fresh water and accompany the
salmon to their spawning beds. Many
persons who catch them for table use
do so with hooks baited with salmon
eggs. Often salmon eggs are salted
and dried and thus retained as bait for
the entire year. No other bait seems
so tempting to the Rainbow Trout.
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</SPAN></span>
The sea run individuals are not so
brightly colored as those which always
remain in fresh water. On their
return to fresh water they seem to have
lost none of their game qualities. As
a table fish they are not inferior to any
fish taken in fresh water.</p>
<p>The size of the Rainbow Trout depends
upon its surroundings, the volume
and temperature of the water and
the amount of food it contains. They
vary from the mere fingerlings found
in small mountain brooks to those
from ten to fourteen pounds,
as found in Klamath and
other similar lakes. The Rainbow
Trout will live in warmer and
more sluggish water than the Brook
Trout, and for this reason it is being
planted in many streams in the east,
which are unsuitable for the Brook
Trout. It is also being planted in
many streams once inhabited by the
Brook Trout, but because of the
change due to civilization have become
unsuitable for them. Rainbow Trout
can now be found in many streams of
the Allegheny region, in streams in
Michigan, in the Ozark region and in
many streams of the Western States.
The Rainbow Trout is a superior game
fish. It is a vigorous biter, and fights
bravely for liberty. In no respects is
it inferior to the Eastern Brook Trout.</p>
<p>The method of hatching Rainbow
Trout is very interesting. At government
hatching stations a large number
of males and females are kept in ponds
for breeding purposes. When ready
to spawn the eggs are easily taken
from the female by gently pressing on
the ventral surface of the body. After
fertilizing them with milt taken in a
similar way from the male they are
placed in wire trays in wooden troughs
through which there is flowing a current
of water. In water of 50 degrees
F. the eggs will hatch in from forty-two
to forty-five days. A female
weighing one-half to one and one-half
pounds will yield from five hundred to
eight hundred eggs. One from two
to four pounds, two thousand five hundred
to three thousand eggs. When
the eggs are partly hatched they may
be carefully placed in trays and kept
free from injury, and packed in ice
and sent to any part of the country. In
this way they are often sent across the
continent, also to Europe, Brazil and
Japan. The cool temperature stops
the hatching, which will begin again as
soon as placed in water of suitable temperature.
The fact that so many eggs
can be taken from one female and a
very large per cent (eighty-five per
cent or more) hatched makes it possible
to plant, in suitable streams, a large
number of young fish each year. If
the eggs were deposited in the stream
by the fishes themselves the greater
number would be eaten by young
fishes, crustaceans, insects, etc. Here
is a case where man is able to assist
mother nature, and to preserve and
widely distribute some of our most
useful fishes. The Rainbow Trout is
receiving much attention and yielding
profitable returns. It will always give
the angler an opportunity to display
his highest skill, and afford a fair recompense
for the toil of fishery.</p>
<p class="ar">Seth E. Meek.</p>
<hr class="chap" /></div>
<h2><SPAN name="DAY_AND_NIGHT" id="DAY_AND_NIGHT"></SPAN>DAY AND NIGHT.</h2>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="verse">Day is a snow-white dove of heaven,</div>
<div class="verse">That from the east glad message brings:</div>
<div class="verse">Night is a stealthy, evil raven,</div>
<div class="verse">Wrapped to the eyes in his black wings.</div>
<div class="verse ar">Thomas Bailey Aldrich.</div>
</div></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</SPAN></span></p>
</div>
<h2><SPAN name="THE_GEOLOGICAL_SUCCESSION_OF_FISHES" id="THE_GEOLOGICAL_SUCCESSION_OF_FISHES"></SPAN> THE GEOLOGICAL SUCCESSION OF FISHES.</h2>
<p>In discussing this subject it will be
necessary to say something about the
geological history of the earth. Each
geological age had its own peculiar
fauna, and to write about any part of
it means that we must know something
about the particular geological age in
which the animals under consideration
flourished, and something of the
earth's previous history.</p>
<p>The earth is supposed to be a small,
condensed portion of the gaseous material
which astronomers tell us at one
time pervaded all space. The heat
given off when the gas was condensing
has been largely converted into mechanical
energy which makes the earth
revolve once in twenty-four hours and
sends it flying through space. As
soon as the earth decreased to about
its present size and became cool
enough for water to be condensed on
its surface, it began to write its own
history. Its entire surface may have
at one time been covered to a uniform
depth by water. If such was ever the
case it did not remain so long. The interior
of the earth was very hot and the
crust cooled very irregularly and portions
of it rose above the surface of
the water. Since then there have been
two antagonizing forces at work. The
heat has caused the earth's surface to
become irregular and the water has
made a strong effort, which has been
partially successful, to reduce all irregularities
to the same level. We do not
know how long these forces nearly balanced
each other, but sooner or later
dry land appeared in many places on
the earth's surface. This was for a
long period of time washed by heavy
rains while the shores for some distance
seaward were worn away by action
of the tidal waves. Much of the
land area then sank below sea level,
and became covered with sand, gravel
and the like. The portion which remained
above the level is called the
Archaean. Later a general elevation
of the land area brought above sea
level much of this land and gravel,
forming around the Archaean an increased
land era, which we call Silurian.
The time when the sand and
gravel was deposited forming this land
is known as the Silurian age. Following
this came the Devonian age. After
this in the following order came the
following geological ages: Carboniferous,
Triassic, Jurassic, Cretaceous,
Tertiary, Quaternary and then the
present or Recent age, the one in
which we now live. Each of these
ages is characterized by the peculiar
animals which then predominated, and
these animals are known only from
their remains imbedded in the rocks as
fossils.</p>
<p>It may not be out of place here to
mention that rocks are usually placed
in two great classes, those which have
been subject to great heat, melted, or
partly so, at one time, then cooled and
hardened are called metamorphic or
igneous rocks. To these belong such
rocks as our granites. Those which
have not been changed by heat are
called sedimentary rocks, such as sandstones,
limestones, etc. In the former
class we find no fossils. If fossils ever
existed there, the fusing of the rocks
has destroyed them. Sedimentary
rocks contain many fossils. The
Archaean area contains no sedimentary
rocks, hence no fossils. Between
the close of the Archaean and beginning
of the Silurian is a long interval
of which we know nothing. If any
rocks were formed during this interval
they are in no place exposed to the surface
of the earth as are portions of all
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</SPAN></span>
other formations. Life evidently existed
then, for at the close of this interval
or rather at the beginning of
the Silurian we find a large number of
Invertebrates. There were corals,
crinoids, brachiopods, lamellibranches,
gasteropods, cephalopods, worms and
crustaceans. All of these animals
flourished during the Silurian.</p>
<p>It was during the latter part of the
Silurian that fishes first made their appearance.
If they lived earlier than
this they were of low organization and
possessed no hard parts, and when they
died they would entirely decay, leaving
nothing to be preserved as fossils.
Of course, no one lived then to give
fishes easy common names, and so we
only know them by the long, hard
scientific names given by scientific
men. These we will use as little as possible
in this article. In classifying
fishes they fall into a few large groups,
as follows: The lowest fish in point of
structure is the lancelet, a small, semi-transparent
animal, with no hard parts,
as teeth, spines or bones. We would
not expect it to be preserved as a fossil
and so we find none. The next
group contains our lampreys and
hag fishes. These are parasites.
They vary in length from a few inches
to more than three feet. With a mouth
nearly circular they attach themselves
to other fishes and feast upon their
blood. The hag fish eats its way into
the fish and remains there until its host
is a living hulk of skin and bones.
Fishes known as Pteraspids, thought
by some scientists to belong to this
group, are found in the upper part of
the Silurian. The lampreys of the present
day have no very hard teeth and
their backbone is simply very soft
cartilage. These ancient lampreys,
called Pteraspids, had the head and part
of the body covered with a coat of mail.
Of these there flourished in the last
days of the Silurian quite a number
of species. The next group of fishes
are the sharks, the most blood-thirsty
of all the inhabitants of the sea. Sharks
flourished to some extent in the upper
part of the Silurian. The shark
has no true bones and its covering
consists of shagreen tentacles. It is
provided with hard teeth and the dorsal
fins of the ancient shark were provided
each with a hard, stout spine. The
teeth were large, flat and fit for
crushing. We know these ancient
sharks only by the spines, shagreen
tentacles and the teeth. These, however,
furnished abundant evidence that
the sharks in the upper Silurian were
numerous as to individuals and species.
The Chimera, a fish much resembling
the sharks, was also abundant in the
upper Silurian. A group of fishes
usually known as ganoids and which
comprise the lung fishes of the Nile, of
Australia, the garpikes of North America
and the sturgeons, were very abundant
during the closing days of the
Silurian. The fishes of this group are
especially well preserved as fossils,
their covering consisted of bony plates
or bucklers or of scales covered with a
coat of enamel. Their outer covering
was well suited to become fossilized,
and so we know this group much better
than we do any other found in the
Silurian.</p>
<p>The next and last group of fishes is
known as Teleosts, or bony fishes. To
this group belong our typical fishes,
such as black bass, sun fishes, suckers,
cat fishes and the like. None of this
group lived during the Silurian.</p>
<table class="sp2 mc w50" title="HOME OF THE SEA BIRDS.">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td colspan="3"><span class="ac w100 figcenter">
<SPAN name="i_078.jpg" id="i_078.jpg"> <ANTIMG style="width:100%"
src="images/i_078.jpg" alt="" /></SPAN></span>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30"></td>
<td class="x-smaller ac w40">HOME OF THE SEA BIRDS.</td>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30">CHICAGO:<br/>
A. W. MUMFORD PUBLISHER.</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<p>Following the Silurian came the Devonian,
which is called the age of
fishes. In no time in the world's history
have fishes been so large and so
abundant as during this age. They
outclassed in every respect all other
animals. The same general types
flourished as those which existed in the
latter part of the Silurian. There were
more species and more individuals and
some grew to an enormous size.
Fishes ruled the Devonian seas. The
crustaceans, such as trilobites which
greatly predominated during the Silurian
age, diminished greatly during the
Devonian. In the struggle for existence
they decreased in size and in
numbers, and were obliged to seek
safety in less favorable places. The
Devonian fishes were largely sharks
and ganoids, especially the latter.
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</SPAN></span>
These were covered, with hard, enamel-coated
scales or bony plates.
Some were short and heavy and entirely
encased in a covering of large
bony plates. They were evidently anything
but pretty and their movements
in the water must have been extremely
awkward. Others were formed much
after our own ideas of fishes. These
bore much resemblance to our garpikes,
the lung fish of the Nile and the
lung fish of Australia, and the worthless
dog fish of our own fresh waters.
Anglers and fishermen all despise
these fishes now, yet in Devonian times
the fishes most nearly like them were
evidently the most handsome and
graceful of all fishes then living. It
appears as if fishes in those days did
not fight each other. They found
abundant sea room and plenty of food
in the form of invertebrates. Of course
it is quite probable that many fish-like
animals existed at this time, but possessing
no hard parts and were not
preserved as fossils; these could not become
at all important for the sea was
too full of large animals of all classes
which were so well protected with a
coat of mail and so hostile that those
less favorably situated could not exist
in any great numbers. At the close of
the Devonian many changes took
place. The rocks of this formation,
which now form a portion of the
earth's surface, rose out of the water,
the land area thus considerably increased,
the seasons, such as they were
then, became more marked; many inland
seas were formed. These changes
were more or less gradual, but not so
much so that the fishes living then
could not suit themselves to the new
conditions. Those fishes which had
flourished for generations had become
accustomed to easy living and certain
fixed ways, could not adapt themselves
to changing conditions, and so became
extinct. The Pteraspids, the earliest
forms to appear; the Pterichthys, in
fact, all forms which bear any resemblance
to our present lampreys, or
which may prove a close relative of
the earlier ganoids, became extinct at
close of the Devonian. The early
Chimeras which flourished from close
of Silurian also became extinct. Many
ganoids became extinct, but other
ganoids came into existence to take
their places. The ganoids most nearly
like our modern sturgeons increased
during the last of the Devonian and retained
their prominence to the close
of the Carboniferous. The slow-moving,
heavily plated ganoids passed
away. They ruled during the Devonian
age, but could not suit themselves
to the new conditions at beginning
of the Carboniferous. While
fishes were numerous and large in the
Devonian, throughout the Carboniferous
they began to decline. By this
time the land area had much increased,
land plants became very abundant,
there were immense forests of tropical
vegetation, great swamps and peat
bogs—all of which later sank below
sea level—became covered up and
changed into coal. Immense lizards
lived in these forests and along the sea
shores; these were the first land animals.
At the close of the Carboniferous
great changes took place; greater
changes than at any time since the
close of the Archaean. So marked
were the changes at this time that it
marks a new era in the geological history
of the earth. All preceding the
close of the Carboniferous is regarded
as ancient geology; all since then as
modern geology. It was at this time
that plants and animals were represented
by new forms more like those
now living. The geological age following
the Carboniferous is the Triassic.
With this age began our modern
sharks and fishes. They did not become
abundant until the Jurassic and
Cretaceous. All of the earlier sharks
had strong spines in front of each dorsal
fin and broad teeth made for crushing.
One form of these known as
Cestracionts were very abundant till the
end of the Cretaceous. In the early
Triassic they began to decline and the
sharks, with pointed teeth, increased.
These sharks, with pointed teeth, but
rounded on the edges, commenced
back in the Carboniferous. During
the Triassic the sharks, with lancet-shaped
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</SPAN></span>
teeth, such as are now possessed
by nearly all our sharks, commenced
in small numbers. One of the
important differences between the
ganoids and the teleosts or true fishes
is in the tail vertebrae. In the ganoids
the tail vertebrae decrease gradually in
size and curve upwards in the upper
lobe of the tail. In the teleosts the
tail vertebrae ends a short distance in
front of ends of the middle fin rays of
the tail fin. In the ganoids the upper
lobe of the tail fin is the largest. In
the teleosts both lobes are nearly the
same size. The tail of the ganoid fish
is called heterocercal, that of our modern
or teleost fishes is homocercal.
The tail of all early ganoids was strongly
heterocercal. In the Triassic and
Jurassic its lobes in many cases became
nearly equal, approaching the homocercal
tail. The tails of all sharks are
heterocercal, of all modern fishes it is
homocercal except in a few families,
as the cod and related fishes, it is
Isocercal; that is, the vertebrae decrease
in size, but do not form an upward
curve. So far as we know the
Shad family is the first of our teleosts
or true fishes to appear, and these were
quite abundant in the early part of the
Triassic.</p>
<p>The rays, fish-like animals much
like Sharks, but with the body and fins
flattened or spread out in a broad flat
disc, appeared in the Jurassic. The
Chimeras, so abundant in the Devonian
and which died out apparently
at the close of the Devonian, also reappeared
at the beginning of the Jurassic.
These did not belong to the same
families as did the more ancient
Chimeras. The Chimeras no doubt
flourished in the Carboniferous and
Triassic, but migrated to some portion
of the sea where now perhaps their remains
lie buried in rocks below the
bottom of the sea. Their survivors,
which were able to modify their structure
and habits to become suited to
new conditions, returned in modified
forms in the Jurassic, where in time
their remains come to the surface as
fossils.</p>
<p>At the end of the Cretaceous or beginning
of the Tertiary we find all of
our modern types of sharks and all of
the important orders of teleosts. The
sturgeons and ganoids decreased
throughout the Tertiary or Quaternary
until at present we have but few living
species. The sturgeons are the more
abundant. Of the large group of
Ganoids so abundant during all these
geological ages but few forms are living
to-day. These are the Ceratodus,
lung fish of Australia; the Polypterus
of the Nile, the Protopterus of Western
Africa, the Dogfish and the three
Garpike of North America. These few
species are but the remnants of a once
large and extensive group of fishes.</p>
<p>In the study of fishes we notice that
some are highly specialized so far as
their structures are concerned; the teeth
of some become especially fitted for a
peculiar kind of food, and as a result
quite unfit for any other kind. Some,
to be protected from their enemies, develop
a heavy armor, which only retards
their activity. Other fishes are
more generalized; that is, are of medium
size, omnivorous habits, are not
hampered in their movements by a too
heavy coat of mail, etc. When any
change of conditions came to modify
their habits of living the specialized
were always the first to disappear. Being
particularly fitted for one mode of
life made them all the more unfitted
for any other, and so when conditions
changed they perished. All of our
modern fishes except the few ganoids
are more or less specialized. The trout
lives in cool running water and some
varieties can live in no other, while
some fishes have become accustomed
to warm, stagnant water and
cannot live with the trout. What is
true in this respect of fishes is true of
land animals as well. The large, ponderous,
slow-moving reptiles of the
Triassic, Jurassic and the Cretaceous,
and the large mammals of the Tertiary
and Quarternary could not exist
except under the peculiar conditions
of that time, and sooner or later had
to give way to the smaller, more active
and more resourceful animals of their
class.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>In tracing the history of fishes from
their earliest existence to the present
one is struck with the myriad forms
he finds. It would seem that all possible
effort was made by them to modify
their structure to suit their environment;
when this changed all their
efforts came to naught, and they were
destined to give way to the more favored
kinds.</p>
<p class="ar">Seth E. Meek.</p>
</div>
<h2><SPAN name="THE_DEEP" id="THE_DEEP"></SPAN>THE DEEP.</h2>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry">
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">There's beauty in the deep—</div>
<div class="verse">The wave is bluer than the sky;</div>
<div class="verse">And, though the light shine bright on high,</div>
<div class="verse">More softly do the sea-gems glow</div>
<div class="verse">That sparkle in the depths below;</div>
<div class="verse">The rainbow's tints are only made</div>
<div class="verse">When on the waters they are laid,</div>
<div class="verse">And sun and moon most sweetly shine</div>
<div class="verse">Upon the ocean's level brine.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">There's beauty in the deep.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">There's music in the deep—</div>
<div class="verse">It is not in the surf's rough roar,</div>
<div class="verse">Nor in the whispering, shelly shore—</div>
<div class="verse">They are but earthly sounds, that tell</div>
<div class="verse">How little of the sea-nymph's shell,</div>
<div class="verse">That sends its loud, clear note abroad,</div>
<div class="verse">Or winds its softness through the flood,</div>
<div class="verse">Echoes through groves with coral gay,</div>
<div class="verse">And dies, on spongy banks, away.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">There's music in the deep.</div>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<div class="verse indent1">There's quiet in the deep—</div>
<div class="verse">Above let tides and tempests rave,</div>
<div class="verse">And earth-born whirlwinds wake the wave;</div>
<div class="verse">Above let care and fear contend,</div>
<div class="verse">With sin and sorrow to the end.</div>
<div class="verse">Here, far beneath the tainted foam,</div>
<div class="verse">That frets above our peaceful home,</div>
<div class="verse">We dream in joy, and wake in love,</div>
<div class="verse">Nor know the rage that yells above.</div>
<div class="verse indent1">There's quiet in the deep.</div>
<div class="verse ar">John G. C. Brainard.</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</SPAN></span></p>
<table class="sp2 mc w50" title="AMERICAN REDSTART.">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td colspan="3"><span class="ac w100 figcenter">
<SPAN name="i_090.jpg" id="i_090.jpg"> <ANTIMG style="width:100%"
src="images/i_090.jpg" alt="" /></SPAN></span>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30">FROM COL. CHI. ACAD. SCIENCES.</td>
<td class="x-smaller ac w40">AMERICAN REDSTART.<br/>
(Setophaga ruticilla.)<br/>
Life-size.</td>
<td class="xx-smaller ac w30">COPYRIGHT 1900, BY<br/>
A. W. MUMFORD, CHICAGO.</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table></div>
<h2><SPAN name="THE_AMERICAN_REDSTART" id="THE_AMERICAN_REDSTART"></SPAN>THE AMERICAN REDSTART.<br/> <span class="xx-smaller"><span style="font-weight:lighter;"> (<i>Setophaga ruticilla.</i>)</span></span></h2>
<p>Contemporaneous with the blossoming
out of the wild plum, the early Richmond
cherry and a rich and diversified profusion
of woodland flowers, perhaps better
exemplified on this occasion by such interesting
types as the little Claytonia, or
spring-beauty, the rue-anemone and the
trilliums, both T. erectum and grandiflorum,
with perhaps a few belated blossoms
of the hepatica, is the advent of this
interesting little bird among us, which
here in Northeastern Illinois usually
plans its arrival somewhere near the closing
days of the first week in May.</p>
<p>Its generic name, Setophaga, interpreted
into plainer English, means a devourer
of insects, and, were we to select
from among the large and varied assortment
of birds comprising the bulk of our
warbler hosts a form most elegant and
expressive of gayety, sprightliness, and,
in a measure, frivolity, we could not go
far wrong in determining upon this
species so easily outclassing all others as
the most brilliantly colored member of
that numerously large and interesting
family, the Mniotiltidae.</p>
<p>At first a creeper and sharp-eyed inspector
of hidden crannies, we afterwards
discern no less in him, and upon
the slightest provocation, a tyrant on the
wing, thereby proving a general adaptability
to and utility in his calling at all
stages of the game—a constant warfare
directed against the insect horde to which
he devotes himself most assiduously at
all times, and it is really astonishing the
amount of the minute forms of insect life
these little birds will consume. So then,
what at first may appear to us as clever
acts of trifling weight will, upon closer inspection,
prove carefully executed movements
planned and carried out with the
greatest precision.</p>
<p>Among ornithologists we find it classed
as an interesting member of the group of
fly-catching warblers. Equally suggestive
to the mind of the writer would be
the name of the fan-tailed warbler, derived
from its well-known habit of carrying
the tail slightly elevated and partly
spread.</p>
<p>To those who may be on the lookout
for just such marked characteristics
among our birds this one feature alone
will serve as an excellent index in determining
its proper identification.</p>
<p>The plainer and grayer markings of the
female and immature birds may differ
very considerably from the more pronounced
black and white, orange-red and
salmon-colored blotches of the adult
male, but never so strikingly manifesting
themselves in the markings of the tail
which in either case may appear to the
casual observer as quite similar.</p>
<p>Yet if we examine them more critically
we will discover that they are distinctly
different, the salmon-red and black-tipped
feathers of the male bird being replaced
by a paler reddish-yellow and grayer-tipped
arrangement in the case of the
female. Young males have the darker
markings of the tail feathers very similar
to those of the adult birds, which we are
told do not take on the complete dress until
the third year. But the habit of constantly
flitting the tail in fan-like motions
is peculiar alike to all phases of this
bird's plumage and above all other characters
serves as the greatest aid in naming
it.</p>
<p>The very young, or nestling dress, of
which little or nothing seems to have
been written, bears a partial resemblance
to that of the female bird, excepting that
the wings are crossed by two yellowish
bands, caused by the lighter tippings of
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</SPAN></span>
the outer coverts. The yellow breast
spots of the female are also wanting in
this dress.</p>
<p>For further particulars the reader is
kindly referred to the colored plate accompanying
this article.</p>
<p>Like the robin red-breasts, the name
of the Redstart seems to have been
brought to America by the earlier settlers
who were ever on the watch for familiar
objects to remind them of former days,
and, as in the case of the example just
cited, wrongfully ascribed by them to a
far different bird. An analogy, however,
exists in the coloration of the European
and American birds justifying in a measure
the reason for so naming it.</p>
<p>We are told, in Newton's Dictionary of
Birds, that the Redstart, the Ruticilla
phoenicurus of most ornithologists, is
well known in Great Britain, where it is
also called the Fire-tail, from the word
"start" which in the original Anglo-Saxon
"steort," means tail. But the
English bird is very different from ours
throughout, a marked distinction being
its peculiarity of habit in seeking out for
a nesting site a hole in a tree or ruined
building.</p>
<p>Our bird, contrary to all this, more correctly
builds its nest out of doors, usually
selecting the upright forks of some tall
shrub or small tree and placing therein
a neat, compact structure, in which four
or five light-colored eggs are deposited
that in their spotted appearance and
blotching of various shades of brown resemble
very closely the eggs of the common
yellow warbler (Dendroica aestiva).</p>
<p>But for all this, however, it repairs to
the shadier depths of the woods while the
yellow warbler on the other hand seeks
out the more tangled thickets and willow
copses.</p>
<p>The song of the Redstart, too, bears in
a striking degree a very close resemblance
to that of this same yellow warbler,
though, as in the case of the nest,
the localities frequented by it serve readily
in making a distinction. "In general
tone and quality," as Prof. Lynds Jones
has remarked in No. 30 of the Wilson
Bulletin, "Warbler Songs," "there is a
strong resemblance to the Yellow, but the
range of variation is greater and the song
distinctly belongs to the 'ringing aisles'
of the woods." "The common utterance
can be recalled by che, che, che, che—pa,
the last syllable abruptly falling and
weakening." "A soft song is like wee-see,
wee-see-wee, with a suggestion at
least of a lower pitch for the last syllable."</p>
<p>The range of the American Redstart
is quite extended, including, as we may
say, all of North America, though it is
very rare and irregular in the States west
of the Sierras. It is said to breed from
Kansas northward.</p>
<p>Tabulated observations compiled by
the writer at Glen Ellyn, Illinois, during
the past seven years, show that the southward
movement of the Redstart commences
about the end of the first week in
August; the first part of September finds
them common, after which their numbers
gradually wane, the last of the month, or
the first few days in October, witnessing
its final departure.</p>
<p class="ar">Benjamin True Gault.</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</SPAN></span></p>
</div>
<h2><SPAN name="THE_FLYING_FISH" id="THE_FLYING_FISH"></SPAN>THE FLYING FISH.</h2>
<p>All animals are provided with some
means of protection from the attacks
of their enemies and with ways of escaping
from any object which they
may fear. The means furnished to the
Flying Fishes is one of the most unique
and interesting.</p>
<p>To escape the larger fishes that prey
upon them, or when frightened by a
passing vessel, these fishes will rise
from the surface of the water and with
distended but quiet fins pass over a distance
of several feet. They have been
known to rise to a height of twelve or
more feet and fly for one hundred or
more yards, although the height and
distance traveled is usually much less.
This power of flight is due to the great
development of the breast (pectoral)
fins, situated on the sides of the body
near the head.</p>
<p>Some writers have stated that these
fishes left the water for the purpose of
catching insect food and that they had
the power of regulating their flight by
the movement of their fins. The best
authorities, however, claim that they
do not possess the power of changing
the direction, velocity, or altitude of
their flight and the position of the fins
is not voluntarily changed, and that
their object in leaving the water is not
for food.</p>
<p>They rise without reference to the
direction of the wind or waves, and frequently,
when their course is at an
angle with the wind, the direction of
their flight may be changed by the
air currents or by contact with the
waves. The direction is also modified,
when passing close to the water, by immersing
the tail fin and moving it with
a rudder like motion.</p>
<p>There are two groups of Flying
Fishes, both natives of tropical and
sub-tropical seas. In one of the groups
there are less than five species, while
classed under the other there are fifty
or more.</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p class="ac">EDITOR'S NOTE.</p>
<p>On account of inaccuracies in the report of Mr. Chapman's lecture,
which was quoted in the
<SPAN href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/48503/48503-h/48503-h.htm#Page_12">
June number</SPAN> of this Magazine, it is only due to
Mr. Chapman that we publish the following letter received from him:</p>
<blockquote>
<p><span class="sc">To the Editor of Birds and Nature</span>:</p>
<p><i>Dear Sir</i>:—In the June issue of your magazine there appeared an alleged abstract
from a lecture by me on the "Structure and Habits of Birds," which so abounds in
errors that I beg you will permit me to state that the matter published was a newspaper
report, for which I am in no way responsible. Yours respectfully,</p>
<p><span class="sc">Frank M. Chapman</span>.<br/></p>
</blockquote>
<hr class="chap" /></div>
<div class="transnote">
<h2><span class="smaller">Transcriber's Note:</span></h2>
<ul>
<li>Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note.</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>The Contents table was added by the transcriber.</li>
</ul></div>
<SPAN name="endofbook"></SPAN>
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