Eighth Reader Part 6

What a new interest this gives to the woods! How you long to explore every nook and corner of them! One must taste it to understand. The looker-on sees nothing to make such a fuss about. Only a little glimpse of feathers and a half-musical note or two--why all this ado? It is not the mere knowledge of birds that you get, but a new interest in the fields and woods, the air, the suns.h.i.+ne, the healing fragrance and coolness, and the getting away from the worry of life.

Yesterday was an October day of rare brightness and warmth. I spent the most of it in a wild, wooded gorge of Rock Creek. A tree which stood upon the bank had dropped some of its fruit in the water. As I stood there, half-leg deep, a wood duck came flying down the creek.

Presently it returned, flying up; then it came back again, and sweeping low around a bend, prepared to alight in a still, dark reach in the creek which was hidden from my view. As I pa.s.sed that way about half an hour afterward, the duck started up, uttering its wild alarm note. In the stillness I could hear the whistle of its wings and the splash of the water when it took flight. Near by I saw where a racc.o.o.n had come down to the water for fresh clams, leaving its long, sharp track in the mud and sand. Before I had pa.s.sed this hidden stretch of water, a pair of strange thrushes flew up from the ground and perched on a low branch.

Who can tell how much this duck, this footprint on the sand, and these strange thrushes from the far North enhanced the interest and charm of the autumn woods?

Birds cannot be learned satisfactorily from books. The satisfaction is in learning them from nature. One must have an original experience with the birds. The books are only the guide, the invitation. But let me say in the same breath that the books can by no manner of means be dispensed with.

In the beginning one finds it very difficult to identify a bird in any verbal description. First find your bird; observe its ways, its song, its calls, its flight, its haunts. Then compare with your book. In this way the feathered kingdom may soon be conquered.

FOOTNOTE:

[Footnote 10: By John Burroughs, an American writer on nature (1837- ).]

EXPRESSION: This and the selection which follows are fine examples of descriptive writing. Read them so that your hearers will understand every statement clearly and without special effort on their part. Talk about the various objects that are mentioned, and tell what you have learned about them from other sources.

BEES AND FLOWERS[11]

Fancy yourself to be in a pretty country garden on a hot summer's morning. Perhaps you have been walking, or reading, or playing, but it is getting too hot now to do anything. So you have chosen the shadiest nook under the walnut tree, close to some pretty flower bed.

As you lie there you notice a gentle buzzing near you, and you see that on the flower bed close by several bees are working busily among the flowers. They do not seem to mind the heat, nor do they wish to rest; and they fly so lightly, and look so happy over their work, that it is pleasant to watch them.

That great b.u.mblebee takes it leisurely enough as she goes lumbering along, poking her head into the larkspurs; she remains so long in each that you might almost think she had fallen asleep. The brown hive-bee, on the other hand, moves busily and quickly among the stocks, sweet peas, and mignonette. She is evidently out on active duty, and means to get all she can from each flower, so as to carry a good load back to the hive. In some blossoms she does not stay a moment, but draws her head back almost as soon as she has popped it in, as if to say, "No honey there." But over other flowers she lingers a little, and then scrambles out again with her drop of honey, and goes off to seek more.

Let us watch her a little more closely. There are many different plants growing in the flower bed, but, curiously enough, she does not go first to one kind and then to another, but keeps to one the whole time.

Now she flies away. Rouse yourself to follow her, and you will see she takes her way back to the hive. We all know why she makes so many journeys between the garden and the hive, and that she is collecting drops of nectar from the flowers and carrying it to the hive to be stored up in the honeycomb for the winter's food. When she comes back again to the garden, we will follow her in her work among the flowers, and see what she is doing for them in return for their gifts to her.

No doubt you have already learned that plants can make better and stronger seeds when they can get the pollen dust from other plants. But I am sure that you will be very much surprised to hear that the colors, the scent, and the curious shapes of the flowers are all so many baits to attract insects. And for what reason? In order that the insects may come and carry the pollen dust from one plant to another.

So far as we know, it is entirely for this purpose that the plants form honey in different parts of the flower. This food they prepare for the insects, and then they have all sorts of contrivances to entice the little creatures to come and get it. The plants hang out gay-colored signs, as much as to say:--

"Come to me, and I will give you honey, if you will bring me pollen dust in exchange."

If you watch the different kinds of gra.s.ses, sedges, and rushes, which have such tiny flowers that you can scarcely see them, you will find that no insects visit them. Neither will you ever find bees buzzing round oak trees, elms, or birches. But on the pretty and sweet-smelling apple blossoms you will find bees, wasps, and other insects.

The reason of this is that gra.s.ses, sedges, rushes, and oak trees have a great deal of pollen dust. As the wind blows them to and fro it wafts the dust from one flower to another. And so these plants do not need to give out honey, or to have gaudy or sweet-scented flowers to attract insects.

But the brilliant poppy, the large-flowered hollyhock, the flaunting dandelion, and the bright blue forget-me-not,--all these are visited by insects, which easily catch sight of them and hasten to sip their honey.

We must not forget what the fragrance of the flowers can do. Have you ever noticed the delicious odor which comes from beds of mignonette, mint, or sweet alyssum? These plants have found another way of attracting the insects; they have no need of bright colors, for their fragrance is quite as true and certain a guide. You will be surprised if you once begin to count them up, how many dull-looking flowers are sweet-scented, while some gaudy flowers have little or no scent. Still we find some flowers, like the beautiful lily, the lovely rose, and the delicate hyacinth, which have color and fragrance and graceful shapes all combined.

But there are still other ways by which flowers secure the visits of insects. Have you not observed that different flowers open and close at different times? The daisy receives its name "day's eye" because it opens at sunrise and closes at sunset, while the evening primrose spreads out its flowers just as the daisy is going to bed.

What do you think is the reason of this? If you go near a bed of evening primroses just when the sun is setting, you will soon be able to guess.

They will then give out such a sweet odor that you will not doubt for a moment that they are calling the evening moths to come and visit them.

The daisy, however, opens by day and is therefore visited by day insects.

Again, some flowers close whenever rain is coming. Look at the daisies when a storm is threatening. As the sky grows dark and heavy, you will see them shrink and close till the sun s.h.i.+nes again. They do this because in the center of the flower there is a drop of honey which would be spoiled if it were washed by the rain.

And now you will see why the cup-shaped flowers so often droop their heads,--think of the snowdrop, the lily-of-the-valley, and a host of others. How pretty they look with their bells hanging so modestly from the slender stalk! They are bending down to protect the honey within their cups.

We are gradually learning that everything which a plant does has its meaning, if we can only find it out. And when we are aware of this, a flower garden may become a new world to us if we open our eyes to all that is going on in it. And so we learn that even among insects and flowers, those who do most for others receive most in return. The bee and the flower do not reason about the matter; they only live their little lives as nature guides them, helping and improving each other.

I have been able to tell you but very little about the hidden work that is going on around us, and you must not for a moment imagine that we have fully explored the fairy land of nature. But at least we have pa.s.sed through the gates, and have learned that there is a world of wonder which we may visit if we will. And it lies quite close to us, hidden in every dewdrop and gust of wind, in every brook and valley, in every little plant and animal.

FOOTNOTE:

[Footnote 11: From "The Fairy Land of Nature," by Arabella B. Buckley.]

EXPRESSION: Make a list of all the natural objects that are mentioned in this selection. Read what is said of each. Describe as many of them as you can in your own words. Tell what you have observed about bees and flowers. The daisy that is referred to is the true European daisy. The daisy, or whiteweed, of the United States does not open and close in the manner here described.

SONG OF THE RIVER[12]

A river went singing a-down to the sea, A-singing--low--singing-- And the dim rippling river said softly to me, "I'm bringing, a-bringing-- While floating along-- A beautiful song To the sh.o.r.es that are white where the waves are so weary, To the beach that is burdened with wrecks that are dreary.

"A song sweet and calm As the peacefullest psalm; And the sh.o.r.e that was sad Will be grateful and glad, And the weariest wave from its dreariest dream Will wake to the sound of the song of the stream; And the tempests shall cease And there shall be peace."

From the fairest of fountains And farthest of mountains, From the stillness of snow Came the stream in its flow.

Down the slopes where the rocks are gray, Through the vales where the flowers are fair--

Where the sunlight flashed--where the shadows lay Like stories that cloud a face of care, The river ran on--and on--and on, Day and night, and night and day.

Going and going, and never gone, Longing to flow to the "far away."

Staying and staying, and never still,-- Going and staying, as if one will Said, "Beautiful river, go to the sea,"

And another will whispered, "Stay with me"-- And the river made answer, soft and low, "I go and stay--I stay and go."

"But what is the song?" I said at last To the pa.s.sing river that never pa.s.sed; And a white, white wave whispered, "List to me, I'm a note in the song for the beautiful sea, A song whose grand accents no earth din may sever, And the river flows on in the same mystic key That blends in one chord the 'forever and never.'"

[Footnote 12: By Abram J. Ryan, an American clergyman and poet.]

EXPRESSION: Read aloud the three lines which introduce the song of the river. Read them in such a manner as to call up a mental picture of the river on its way to the sea. Read the first five lines of the third stanza in a similar way, and tell what picture is now called up in your mind. Now read the river's song. Read what the white wave said. Read the whole poem with spirit and feeling.

Notice the words "a-down," "a-singing," "a-bringing." What effect is produced by the use of these unusual forms?

SONG OF THE CHATTAHOOCHEE[13]