MISS MARTIN’S NATURE STORIES
The picnic was declared a grand success in spite of the fright little
Prunel had had, for such a thrill as the Little Citizens had been
treated to at the danger and escape of one of their members was not to
be had every day! So that event added glory to the occasion and was one
long to be remembered.
The day after the outing, most of the Little Citizens were seated at
the Auditorium (as they called the Refectory when other occasions
demanded its use) waiting for the Blue Birds who had promised to come
and hear Miss Martin’s nature story that day.
Miss Martin was seen coming from her Nest and soon after she had
greeted the children, the Blue Birds were heard laughing and talking as
they hurried down Harebell Road.
When all were seated Miss Martin began:
“I’m going to tell you about some pests we have in camp, and your
Uncle Ben agreed to be present so he could hear what a nuisance they
are. I see him coming from the Fire-house so he will soon be here.
Before he arrives, however, I want to ask you children a favor. When my
story is finished I shall call upon you to ask how many will volunteer
to work in the Health Department for a few days to get rid of flies and
mosquitoes, and I wish everyone here to offer their services to Uncle
Ben.”
“Oh we will! You don’t have to ask us a favor like that--we’d do it
anyway!” replied one of the Health Inspectors.
“Am I late?” asked Uncle Ben, now coming over to the group gathered to
hear the stories.
“Just in time,” replied Ruth, making a place for him.
“My first story will be about a mosquito that settled down at Happy
Hills and founded the colony of pests that annoys us so at camp.
“Skinny was a malarial mosquito that happened to crawl from the reeds
near the lake into a carpenter’s tool-chest while the man was eating
his lunch late last fall. As his job was completed, the carpenter
caught up the tool-box and hurried towards Miss Selina’s place to
leave it in the tool-house.
“Skinny was very sleepy because of the cold air, and the tool-box being
left in a snug, sunny spot on a shelf in the tool-house, she soon fell
asleep for the long cold winter months.
“But in the spring the warm sun-rays roused her and she began to
open her sleepy eyes and stretch her stiffened legs; her poor wings
she could not use at once--they were so nerveless and stiff that it
took some practice to whip them into general use again. She succeeded
somewhat, just as the carpenter came in and took up the tool-chest.
“‘Where’re you goin’ to work, Pete?’ asked a man standing outside the
shed.
“‘Down at Happy Hills Camp. I’m goin’ to build some Nests for the Blue
Birds’ Little Citizens, you know.’
“‘Well, thar ain’t no mosquitoes around er no flies, either, so you
won’t be pestered any, I guess,’ said the first man, as Pete walked
away down Daffodil Lane.
“Skinny heard the conversation and smiled. ‘Not a mosquito on the
place, eh? Well I will have to get busy and change that lonesome state
of affairs mighty quick!’
“So poor Pete carried the little pest along in his harmless tool-chest,
and while he left it standing in the sunshine until he could find
the boss carpenter, the sun-rays made Skinny feel so lively that she
decided to try her wings and soar a bit.
“This was easier than she had thought possible, so she flew down to a
little shallow pool in the creek for a drink of water. Here she found
a slimy little back-water puddle so warm and comfortable that she soon
chose that spot for the eggs she proposed laying to found the mosquito
colony of Happy Hills.
“Early the following morning, Mrs. Spot Toad saw hundreds of
oblong-shaped eggs floating on the slimy pool, but it was none of her
business so she did not report the matter to the Board of Health as one
of the Little Citizens would have done. In fact Spot was so busy with
her own family cares that she forgot all about the mosquito larvæ soon
after she had seen the small sooty specks floating on the water.
“Skinny left her eggs to hatch and went her way rejoicing, but not for
long!
“She had hardly reached a tree where a dozing carpenter tempted her to
eat, when a mother Blue Bird swooped down from her nest and caught up
the lean, lanky mosquito to feed to her babies. Of course there was no
nourishment in a poor thing like Skinny, but it would help fill the
gaping mouths of the baby-birds a bit!
“Inside of twenty-four hours, Skinny’s eggs began to hatch out, but
they were not mosquitoes--they were wrigglers. In appearance they
resembled wooly, little caterpillars, but one end of the squirming body
was the breathing tube for air. The fuzzy part of the wriggler was
the means of its moving about, and they all wriggled or jerked about
continually. Some grew faster than others, but all grew very fast,
their heads seeming to grow faster than their bodies.
“In about six days’ time the wrigglers had grown so strong that they
floated on the top of the water in the hot sunshine, so that the heat
might crack open the skins that enclosed the young mosquitoes. As one
shell opened after another, the insects crawled out and waited upon the
tops of their little boats to dry their wings and legs. The sun soon
accomplished this work, and then the hundreds of young mosquitoes were
flying about waiting for an opportunity to eat something good.
“About this time the first Little Citizens appeared at Camp, and many
of the children ran down to the creek to play in the water. Of course
Skinny’s family sniffed the sweet young blood of the children there,
and many a young mosquito ate till it almost burst open, and the Little
Citizen had an irritating bite on arms or legs.
“Many, many of the young mosquitoes remained near the creek and laid
eggs for a new family, and others flew away to the puddles in the
woods, or settled on the eaves of the roof where rainwater had left
tiny pools. Others saw the lake, and still others found water in pails
or bottles and vessels of all sorts. In a very short time every one of
Skinny’s children was laying a multitude of eggs that would hatch out
in a day or two, and in ten to twelve days there would be a pest of
mosquitoes at Happy Hills.
“By the time Little Citizens were running about these woods, playing,
or digging by the creek, or making mud-pies from the soft mud in the
little pools, thousands and thousands of nasty mosquitoes were flying
and humming everywhere, while hundreds of thousands were being hatched
from the wrigglers that had been the outcome of eggs laid by every
mosquito in the place.
“Finally the Little Citizens had such itching red spots on their
bodies, and so many of the younger children had to keep away from the
fascinating little brook because of the pesky, stinging insects, that
Uncle Ben said something must be done at once to rid Happy Hills of
this menace.
“But what can we do to so many? If we have to catch every wriggler or
mosquito about Happy Hills, it will take ten times the number of Little
Citizens here to catch and kill them--and then there will be thousands
of insects left to breed new pests.
“Ah, but there is a way that will smother all the young and kill the
old mosquitoes! Now listen carefully!
“We will get kerosene or crude oil, and pour a little on the surface of
the water wherever we think a mosquito has laid her eggs. While we are
doing it, we will oil all the still waters so no mosquito will dare to
settle anywhere and lay new eggs.
“You see the oil will spread out over the surface of the water and
keep the wrigglers from getting air for their bodies--this will soon
smother them and they will sink to the bottom of the pool, dead! The
old mosquitoes that should come to visit the pond or pools, will light
upon the glassy, oiled water and instantly find it impossible to remove
their hairy legs; besides, their noses will be filled with the fumes
and soon choke them so that they, too, will sink down to the bottom of
the stagnant pool or float dead upon the oil.
“Happy Hills will then become a comfortable place at night and a more
enjoyable camp for the children at day.”
Miss Martin concluded her first story and the children showed their
interest by the many questions they asked. Among other things, she was
asked if there was more than one kind of mosquito, and this brought up
an explanation of the difference between the malarial mosquito and the
simply poisonous, stinging kind.
“The mosquito that causes malaria by its bite can be detected if you
see it sting, for it always stings with head pointed downward and its
tail and hind legs held straight up in the air. The common mosquito
stands with its body on a horizontal line when it stings, but both
kinds are poisonous and are of no use whatever. The sooner the country
is cleared of such plagues the better.”
“You have done a good work, Miss Martin, by telling us how to rid the
camp of mosquitoes. I ordered several barrels of unrefined petroleum
oil and Jones told me this morning that they are at the freight
station. He is there now with a wagon to bring them back. When he
comes, we will all start in with cans and anything we can find to hold
oil, to hunt mosquitoes,” remarked Uncle Ben.
“There’s another pest to be gotten rid of, Mr. Talmage,” suggested Miss
Martin.
“And have you a story ready for it?” laughed Ned.
“It won’t take a moment to weave one just as long as we may need for
the occasion,” replied Miss Martin.
“Is it the fly that you have such an antipathy to?” continued Uncle Ben.
“Yes, it is, and if you will do as I advise, Happy Hills will soon be
rid of flies as well as mosquitoes,” rejoined Miss Martin.
“Well, tell us a story and we will judge of the importance of the
battle against the fly,” said Uncle Ben.
So Miss Martin sat thinking for a few seconds before she began:
“‘Oh, Flossy, did you know Uncle Ben Talmage has started a camp
at Happy Hills for the Little Citizens?’ cried a noisy fly to her
companion one nice day in June.
“‘Really! How interesting; but what good will that do us here? We are
keeping house in the pig’s trough, so how could we hope to reach camp
so far away?’
“‘I’ll tell you about a plan I have, Flossy. Of course, there will be
lots of children staying the summer at Happy Hills, and where there
are little ones there is sure to be food and things lying about for
flies to picnic upon. Now we can steal a ride from the pig-sty to the
camp when Farmer Jones feeds the pigs. We can sit in the bottom of his
swill-cans and sneak into camp without anyone seeing us. Once there we
can set up housekeeping at any of the Nests. Soon we will have a large
family and found a great fly-colony.’
“‘How wise you are, Noisy! Let us sit in the dark corner and wait for
the farmer’s can,’ replied Flossy, eagerly.
“So the two flies were carried from the smelly pig-sty to the nice
clean, brand-new Nest built for Miss Martin and her Little Citizens.
But Miss Martin didn’t know the two wicked flies had arrived to live in
her Nest.
“No one knew the two flies were perched on the edges of the
milk-glasses with their filthy, fuzzy legs and feet, and leaving all
kinds of foreign matter on the glass rim where little babies’ lips
would soon sip the milk! Neither did anyone know that one of the pesky
flies had just deposited its filth on a slice of buttered bread for one
of the children. But so it happened just the same!
“There had been a few other flies in the pig-sty when the two
adventurers started forth, and they too decided to follow their
friends. So a number of dirty insects caught hold of the horse’s legs
and belly and thus were brought to camp. Here they sought out Flossy
and Noisy and suggested that they all go to housekeeping together.
“‘Where shall we set up housekeeping?’ asked Noisy.
“‘Well, when we rode into camp on old Dobbin, we passed by the stables.
There are a number of choice apartments about the building, and I
located one in the manure heap outside. Another good flat-house is over
where the dump-ground is. We can always find decaying fruit or rotting
stuff there,’ returned one of the new arrivals.
“So Flossy and her husband started housekeeping in the dump-ground,
while Noisy and her spouse settled in the manure heap by the barns.
Noisy crawled about over the damp straws that had been swept out from
the stable-stalls and soon found a fine spot to deposit her eggs.
“That evening Noisy and her husband flew back to camp to visit Little
Citizens and see what they could do to interfere with the wholesome
plans of Uncle Ben and Miss Martin.
“The hundreds of tiny white eggs laid in the manure heap by Mother
Noisy, as her first brood of children for that summer, and the hundreds
laid by Flossy in the dump-heap to found her big family, began
instantly to hatch out into queer worm-like creatures. In less than
twenty-four hours a swarm of these pests were stirring about as lively
as could be, and in less than a day after they were hatched from the
eggs, they cast off their skins. It took another day for them to shed a
second coat, and then a day or two later they got rid of a third skin.
“Now they looked like little oval grubs that remained as quiet as if
there was no life within them, but at the end of a week, the shells
cracked open and a multitude of young flies crept out to fly away just
as Noisy did from the pig-sty where she was born.
“The thousands of flies hatched out of the manure heap and
dumping-ground now feasted on all the filth and decaying mess they
could find and soon they were laying eggs wherever a smelly dirty spot
could be found, because flies prefer filth to cleanliness.
“Thousands more hatched from these eggs and in three generations of
flies, and in three weeks’ time, there were millions of horrid pests
flying about camp. Millions buzzed in our ears and slapped their dirty
wings in our faces. Millions crept over our food leaving the nasty
trails of their hairy feet everywhere--but so fine a dirt that we could
not see it with our naked eyes. There were millions to bite baby’s
sweet rosy lip, to tickle our noses with their fuzzy legs and tails,
to drop into the butter, or swim about in our water and milk, always
leaving their filth as a mark of their nuisance!
“Then along came the man with the barrels of oil from the station, and
the pools and damp places about camp were soon saturated with kerosene.
It was noticed that the flies kept away from such spots.
“‘Suppose we try oil on the hatching places of the flies, Miss Martin?’
asked Uncle Ben.
“‘It will kill the eggs anyway, and may catch some of the flies. But we
can keep everything securely covered and screened so a fly will have to
starve and then be forced to eat from the poisoned saucer filled with
water. Soon we can kill off all the old flies and with the breeding
spots disinfected there will be no flies to sicken us,’ replied Miss
Martin, and so it was.
“Little Citizens hated the flies almost as much as did Miss Martin and
the other grown-ups at Happy Hills, and as soon as the oil-barrels were
opened and ready for use, everyone started out to find breeding nests
of flies and soak them well with oil.
“And what a lovely summer the rest of that season was at camp, without
flies or mosquitoes to annoy the very life out of one!”
“Ha, ha! That’s a better story than the first! Here comes Jones with
the farm-wagon bringing in the barrels! Come on, Police and Health
Board--to work to rid the camp of pests!”
At Bill’s call to Little Citizens, they jumped up and hurriedly
thanking Miss Martin for her stories, ran off to meet the driver with
the oil-cans.
“There, that is one way to plant ambition for better conditions,”
sighed Miss Martin, feeling she had invested her half-hour to some good
purpose.