We will keep by the hedge--for it would not be right to trample down
the tall grass--and gather a few grasses. Few people know more about
grass than that it is good pasturage for cattle and sheep. Let us
gather a lot, and take care, as far as we can, to gather only one kind
each. How graceful and beautiful they are, and what difference there
is amongst them; some have a stiff spike-like head of flowers, others
have pretty drooping heads; some are harsh and rough to the touch,
others soft as satin. Some, again, are of great value as pasturage and
for making into hay; others are positively noxious weeds. You know the
twitch or couch grass, that gives the farmer so much trouble; it is
most rapid in its growth and difficult to kill; its underground
creeping stems spread in all directions, and, if left to itself, would
soon take sole possession of the whole soil. So the farmers are very
careful to rake together all they can; they then collect it in heaps
and burn it. Here is the rough "cocksfoot grass," with its head or
"panicle" as it is called, upright and tufted. Look at its large
yellow stamens; it is a very productive species and enters largely
into all hay-grass. Here is the common quaking grass, with its
slender, smooth, spreading branches. See how the numerous little heads
tremble with the slightest motion; we do not see much of it in these
meadows. It is an exceedingly pretty grass, and often seen on the
chimney-pieces of cottagers, but is by no means a valuable
agricultural grass; on the contrary, it is a sign, when abundant, of
poor land.
[Illustration: PANICLE OF GRASS.]
Here we have the smooth-stalked meadow grass, and here is the hedge
wood-melic grass, with its slightly drooping panicle, and spikelets on
long slender footstalks. Here is the soft meadow grass; feel how
smooth its panicle is; this, the oat-like grass. "What is that very
tall grass," asked Willy, "that often grows near the water? It is much
taller than you are, and has a rich brown drooping head." You mean the
common reed-grass, no doubt; it is not yet in flower, but you will see
it in August and September. It is a magnificent grass, though not of
much use to the farmer. The little birds find shelter amongst its
stems, and the reed-warbler often chooses them as pillars whereon to
support its nest. Then you must not forget another tall and handsome
grass, often found on the banks of rivers and lakes, called the
reed-canary grass; it flowers about the middle of July. You know the
ribbon-grass, in the garden, with its leaves striped with green and
white, varying immensely in the width of its bands, so that you can
never find two leaves exactly alike. "Yes, indeed, papa," said May,
"I know it well; you know we always put some with the flowers we
gather for the drawing-room table." Well, this is only a cultivated
variety of the reed-canary grass; and I have sometimes let a cluster
of the ribbon-grass run wild as it were, and then the leaves turn to
one uniform green. The reed-meadow grass is another tall and handsome
kind; this cattle are very fond of; it is sweet to the taste and grows
in damp situations. "You sometimes see," said May, "a very beautiful
and curious grass, with long yellow feathery tails, amongst the
ornaments in rooms." That is the "feather-grass;" it is a very rare
grass, and has been seldom found wild in this country. The long yellow
tails are the awns, which resemble delicate feathers. Here is the
sweet-scented vernal grass; taste and see how pleasant it is; it is
the grass which, perhaps more than any other, gives that charming
odour to the hayfields. "There is a clear pond in yonder corner of the
field, let us go there and see what we can find," said Willy. All
right. It is a very likely pond for many interesting creatures; but
let us first look at the plants that grow round or in it. There are a
few sedges here and there--a pretty order of plants; at present you
must be content with making yourselves acquainted with their general
form. Take care how you gather them, for the leaves and stems of some
kinds are very rough, and if you draw them quickly through your hand
you may cut it rather sorely. "Oh! do come here, papa," said May;
"here is quite a new flower to me; is it not a beauty?" Indeed, it is
a lovely plant; it is the buckbean or marshtrefoil, and generally
grows in some boggy spot, such as this. Look at the three green
leaflets, like those of the common bean--hence one of the names of the
plant. Look again at the clusters of blossoms; some are not fully out,
and are of a lovely rose colour; others are quite out, and the flowers
covered with a white silken fringe. Bite a bit, and taste how bitter
it is; people often gather the roots and use them as a tonic medicine.
I think in some countries, as in Norway and in Germany, the leaves
have been used in the place of hops for brewing beer; about a couple
of ounces being equal to a couple of pounds of hops. The late Sir
William Hooker found the buckbean very plentiful in Iceland, and says
that where it occurs it is of great use to travellers over the
morasses, for they are aware that the thickly entangled roots make a
safe bed under the soft morass for them to pass over. Here is hairy
mint, nearly a foot high; do you dislike the smell? I think it
pleasant myself; it is not yet in flower, but will be so in about six
weeks' time. Holloa! Jack, what's the matter? "I have only tumbled
down, papa, amongst these nasty nettles, and got stung rather
sharply." That is interesting. Do you know how it is that nettles
sting? "Oh, papa," said Jack, pitifully, "you are like the man in the
fable who was giving a lecture to the drowning boy; the boy asked him
to get him first of all out of the water, and to give him the lecture
afterwards. Now, you should first tell me how to cure these nettle
stings, and I would then be more inclined to learn how it is that
nettles sting."
[Illustration: NETTLE.]
The pain will soon pass off, and I do not know that there is any
remedy. When at school, I was told to rub the stung part over with a
dock leaf, but I do not think this ever did it any good. Now, I want
you to pay particular attention; you know what we call "the dead
nettle"--I mean what plant I allude to; there is the red, white, and
yellow so-called dead nettles; you remember the shape of the flowers
of these three kinds. Look at the flowers of the real stinging
nettles; are they not extremely unlike? You see the small green
flowers in long branched clusters; how different from the lip-shaped
flower of the dead nettles.
[Illustration: DEAD NETTLE.]
There is some general resemblance, however, between the real nettles
and the so-called dead nettles; the leaves for instance of the white
dead nettle are very like those of the stinger. The dead nettles,
however, are not at all related to the true nettle, and belong to
quite a different family called the Labiate tribe, from the Latin word
_Labium_, "a lip," in allusion to the form of the corolla. Is the pain
better, now, Jacko? "Yes, it is getting less severe; look what large
white lumps have arisen on the back of my hand." The sting of the
nettle is a very curious and interesting object under the microscope.
It consists of a hollow tube with a glandular organ at the bottom of
it, in which is contained an acrid fluid very irritating to the skin;
the fine point of the sting or hair pierces the skin, and the pressure
forces up the fluid from the bottom of the hair, which is then
conveyed into the wound by a point at the top of the sting.
[Illustration: LABIATE PLANT.
_a._ Stamens. _b._ Corolla. _c._ Calyx.]
[Illustration: STING OF NETTLE, MAGNIFIED.]
The nettles of foreign countries have much greater poisonous
properties. The effects of incautiously handling some East Indian
species are terrible. The first pain is compared with the pain
inflicted by a red-hot iron; this increases and continues for days. A
French botanist was once stung by one of these nettles in the
Botanical Gardens of Calcutta; he says the pain so affected the lower
part of his face that he feared lock-jaw. He did not get rid of the
pain till nine days had expired. Dr. Hooker saw gigantic nettles in
Nepal, one was a shrubby species growing fifteen feet high, called by
the natives _mealum-ma_. They had so great a dread of it that Dr.
Hooker could hardly persuade them to help him to cut it down. He
gathered several specimens without allowing any part to touch his
skin, but the "scentless effluvium" was so powerful as to cause
unpleasant effects for the rest of the day. "The sting produces
violent inflammation, and to punish a child with _mealum-ma_ is the
severest Lepcha threat." Then there is the nettle of Timor, or
_devils-leaf_, the sting of which sometimes produces fatal effects.
Tree-nettles in Australia are occasionally found as much as
twenty-five feet in circumference. There are three species of stinging
nettles in this country, the great nettle, the small nettle, and the
Roman nettle; the first two are very common, the last very rare
indeed. There is a curious story told of the introduction of this
last species into this country. You may believe as much as you please
of it. It is said that before the Romans under Julius Cæsar thought it
prudent to come to England--of the coldness of which they had heard a
good deal--they procured some seeds of the Roman nettle, intending to
sow them when they landed in this country; so when they landed at
Romney, in Kent, they sowed the seeds. "And what use, papa," asked
Willy, "would nettles be to them during the cold weather in England?"
Well, they meant to nettle themselves, and so chafe their skins so as
to enable them to bear the cold better. And tough skins they must have
had, for the poison of the Roman nettle is much more severe than that
of the two common species. Camden, I believe, tells the story; as I
said, you may believe it or not. Do you see that tortoiseshell
butterfly hovering near the nettles? Its larva was a greenish-black
caterpillar with yellow stripes, and it lived, when in that state,
entirely on the leaves of the nettle; the larvæ also of other kinds of
butterflies feed on this plant, as the admiral butterfly, and the
peacock butterfly. I have eaten the young shoots of the common nettles
in the spring of the year; they do not make a bad substitute for
spinach.
[Illustration: LARVA, CHRYSALIS, AND INSECT OF THE SMALL
TORTOISE-SHELL BUTTERFLY. (_Vanessa urticæ._)]
How prettily the yellow flags skirt the pool; there, you see, is the
common branched bur-reed, with its sword-like leaves and round heads
of flowers; a little way in the pool is the pretty arrowhead with its
large conspicuous arrow-shaped leaves and flesh-coloured flowers, both
leaves and flowers standing several inches out of the water. In the
water, too, I see the brown leaves of the perfoliate pondweed; they
are almost transparent, and look when dry something like gold-beater's
skin. I see also the cylindrical tufts of the horn-wort with its
bristle-like leaves often several times forked. It grows entirely
under the water. See also a few rose-coloured spikes of the amphibious
persicaria.
[Illustration: YOUNG CRISTATELLA, MAGNIFIED.]
Such are some of the most conspicuous plants near our pond. It looks
likely to contain some fresh-water polyzoa, than which there are few
more beautiful tenants of the water. Here is a young one on this leaf
of persicaria; do you see it? I put it into my bottle. Now look, it
has lately been hatched from that round egg with curious hooks around
its margin. It is called _Cristatella_. At present there are only
three individuals in the outer heart-shaped covering, but additional
ones will bud out of these three, and others from these last, till the
whole colony may number as many as sixty individuals, being then fully
an inch long; the mouth of each is placed between the tentacles, which
have upon them, running down each side, a great number of very minute
hairs or _cilia_, to which, you may remember, I have alluded before.
The colour of the colony is yellowish white, sometimes brownish white.
It is a most exquisite little animal, or rather colony of animals;
for, though there are several creatures in one house, as it were, each
is separate and independent of its neighbour. You will often find
other forms of polyzoa in clear ponds and mill-pools; sometimes you
would suppose you were looking at a mass of sponge, as in the case of
_Alcyonella_, or the creeping root of some weed, as in _Plumatella_
and _Fredericella_; but when the sponge-like mass or rootlets are
placed in water you will observe numbers of little animals to show
their heads and tentacles above the mass or from the little holes in
the creeping rootlets. Ah! what have we here? Do you see those long
narrow ribbons of floating grass about a yard from us? Do you notice
some of the ribbons to be bent and folded here and there? Between each
fold we shall find an egg of a newt. Let me get this bit of grass
ribbon. There, I unfold it where it is creased, and you see a
transparent glairy substance, within which is a round yellowish egg.
Here again is another. The leaves of persicaria, also, are often
selected by the female newt for the purpose of depositing her eggs.
Here you see is a leaf folded up; between the folds is another newt's
egg. I have never seen the newt in the act of laying her eggs, but, I
believe, it may readily be observed by placing a female newt any time
during the months of May and June in a vessel of water with some
leaves of persicaria. Mr. Bell says, "The manner in which the eggs
are deposited is very interesting and curious. The female, selecting
some leaf of an aquatic plant, sits as it were upon its edge, and
folding it by means of her two hind feet, deposits a single egg in the
duplicature of the folded part of the leaf, which is thereby glued
most securely together, and the egg is thus effectually protected from
injury. As soon as the female has in this way deposited a single egg,
she quits the leaf, and after the lapse of a short time seeks another,
there to place another egg." The eggs undergo various changes, and the
animal, at an early part of its life, has a pair of delicate organs on
each side of the neck; these are rudimentary gills, by means of which
the little creature breathes. In its very early condition these gills
are simple lobes; I ought to say that the first pair of lobes serve
the purpose of holders by which the little creature attaches itself to
leaves and other things. But when it is about three weeks old the
gills have many leaf-like divisions, and look like beautiful feathered
fringes. The circulation of blood in these gills may be readily seen
under the microscope, and will be surveyed with the greatest delight.
By-and-bye the animal buds out its four legs and looses the gills;
they do not drop off, but become absorbed; hitherto it has carried on
its respiration or breathing by means of these gills, but how does it
breathe now that it has lost them? The lungs in the inside of the body
have been gradually growing larger and fit for breathing the
atmospheric air; for newts, when arrived at their full or perfect
state, are, you know, chiefly terrestrial creatures, and breathe by
means of their lungs. When young they are in a fish state, and
breathe the air contained in the water exactly as fish do. If you will
look at a pond where newts abound, you will see the old ones
constantly coming to the top of the water, gulping down a mouthful of
air and then returning to the bottom. Full-grown newts do not frequent
the water excepting for the sake of laying their eggs. The young ones
are ready for leaving the water in the autumn, but I have often
obtained young newts with their gills fully developed in the depth of
winter. Probably these had been hatched late in the summer and had not
time to grow their lungs, so had to keep to their gills and lead the
life of a fish during the winter.
"People often call newts 'askers,' papa," said Willy, "and the lads of
the village always kill them when they catch them; they say their bite
is poisonous." I am sorry to say they do; but it is an error to
suppose their bite is poisonous. You have yourself handled many
specimens, and I am sure you never saw one attempt to bite. I do not
believe their small teeth and weak jaws could pierce the skin. Four
species of newts have been described as occurring in this country--the
two common kinds are the smooth newt and the warty newt. I think I
once found the palmated newt near Eyton; the male of this species is
distinguished from other newts by having the hind legs webbed and by a
thin filament or thread at the end of the tail.
[Illustration: DONACIA.
_a, b._ Larvæ, nat. size. _c._ Cocoons on root, nat. size. _d._
Beetle, slightly magnified, _e._ Head of larva.]
"What is this, papa," said Jack, "that I have found sticking to the
roots of this water-weed; they look like the eggs of some creature?"
They are not eggs, but the cocoons of a very common but pretty beetle
called _Donacia_. See, I will slit one open with my penknife. There
is the little animal inside, a white, fat, maggoty thing; it has two
curious hooks at the end of the tail, it has only just framed its
cell, and is about to change from the larval to the pupal state. Here
you see are other maggots among the roots; they have not yet made a
cocoon. I will open some more; here is one in its pupal condition.
Here is another almost ready to come out as a beetle. The _Donacia_
have all a metallic appearance and very beautiful they are, whether
blue, red, copper, or purple; the under side is covered with a fine
silky down. They are found in great numbers on water-weeds, and being
very sluggish are readily caught or picked off the plants they
frequent with the hand. Do you notice those small, flat, brown or
black dabs so common on almost any water-weed you pluck up? These are
planarian worms, and though not of prepossessing appearance generally,
are extremely interesting animals to study. These large, reddish, oval
or round cocoons are the eggs of the planariæ. Here is one of the
largest of the family. It is of a milk-white colour, beautifully
marked with delicate tree-like branches; sometimes this species
(_Planaria lactea_) is of a light pink colour. The mouth is not
situated where mouths usually are, in the fore part of the body, but
almost in the centre. See, I will place this white planaria on my
hand; do you notice that it protrudes something you might perhaps say
was its tongue? It is not its tongue, however; it is a tubular
proboscis, and is very strong and muscular, and unlike the soft body
of the animal. By means of this proboscis the creature is enabled to
pierce the bodies of other creatures and to suck out their juices. I
have kept planariæ under observation, and seen them drive this
proboscis through each other. These black and brown dabs often feed
upon the milky planariæ. They are something like the hydræ in their
power of producing lost portions of their bodies. Cut them in two or
more pieces, each piece will grow into a perfect planaria again. These
you see do not swim but crawl, or glide over the surface of plants in
the water. Some kinds, however, different from these, are able to swim
well. We have had a long and successful hunt to-day. Let us go.
WALK VII.
JUNE.
This morning, before we started for our walk, we went to look at a
hedgehog which had been brought to us the preceding day. We discovered
that the animal, in the course of the night, had crept into a bag with
a quantity of bran in it, and that there were four little ones with
her. There they were as snug as possible, the mother and little
urchins! Very curious little animals too these young hedgehogs. The
spines or prickles were nearly white and soft, and were not spread
over the whole body, but arranged in rows down it. The appearance was
that of a plucked duckling when it is what is called "penny." They
were perfectly blind, and the passage of the ear was quite closed;
they uttered faint, puppy-like cries. I was desirous to try and rear
them; but I had grave doubts about the old one, for those who have
attempted to rear young hedgehogs have generally found that the mother
ate her offspring. We removed her, young and all, to another place,
giving them plenty of straw and supplying bread and milk for the old
one. Buffon, amongst others, relates "that he had repeatedly placed
the mother with the young in a place of confinement; but that, instead
of suckling them, she invariably killed and devoured them,
notwithstanding that she was provided with plenty of food."
However, we determined to give our young urchins a chance, and hoped
the mother hedgehog would be favorably disposed towards her offspring;
so we now left her undisturbed. Willy wished to know whether hedgehogs
were injurious creatures, for "you know, papa," he said, "that country
lads and gamekeepers always kill them whenever they have a chance." I
am convinced that hedgehogs do much more good than harm, by the
destruction they cause to insects, slugs, snails, field-mice, and
other pests of the farm. There is a foolish idea in the minds of the
uneducated that these animals suck cows. You have only to laugh at
such an absurdity; but I doubt you will scarcely ever succeed in
persuading such people that the idea is a ridiculous one, and utterly
unsupported by fact. Hedgehogs will undoubtedly destroy eggs, and one
can understand why gamekeepers wage war against them, fearing for the
safety of the eggs or young birds of their favorite partridges or
pheasants. This is natural. I suspect, however, that hedgehogs seldom
molest the nests, and that the injury they do in this respect is very
small. "But you know, papa," said Jack, "that they will eat young
birds. Do you not remember the dead sparrow we once gave to a
hedgehog, and how furiously he went at it, and how soon he ate it all
up except the feathers." "Yes," added Willy, "and do you not also
remember our putting a toad in the same box with a hedgehog? Oh! how
angry he seemed, and how savagely he shook the unfortunate toad! He
did not, however, seem to like the flavour, and soon gave up the
fight." Hedgehogs will certainly destroy young birds; but we must
remember to set the good any animal does against the harm, and strike
the balance; and, as I said, I suspect in this case the good will
largely preponderate. Hedgehogs are extremely fond of beetles; they
seize on them with great earnestness, and crack them with as much
delight as you lads crack nuts. Hedgehogs are sometimes kept in houses
for the purpose of eating the cockroaches so often abounding in
kitchens. Snakes are also devoured by hedgehogs. The late Professor
Buckland, having occasion to suspect that hedgehogs sometimes preyed
on snakes, "procured a common snake and also a hedgehog, and put them
in a box together. Whether or not the latter recognised its enemy was
not apparent; it did not dart from the hedgehog, but kept creeping
gently round the box. The hedgehog was rolled up, and did not appear
to see the snake. The professor then laid the hedgehog on the snake,
with that part of the ball where the head and tail meet downwards, and
touching it. The snake proceeded to crawl; the hedgehog started,
opened slightly, and seeing what was under it gave the snake a hard
bite, and instantly rolled itself up again. It soon opened a second,
and again a third time, repeating the bite. This done, the hedgehog
stood by the snake's side, and passed the whole body of the snake
successively through its jaws, cracking it, and breaking the bones at
intervals of half an inch or more, by which operation the snake was
rendered motionless. The hedgehog then placed itself at the tip of the
snake's tail, and began to eat upwards, as one would eat a radish,
without intermission, but slowly, till half of the snake was devoured.
The following morning the remaining half was also completely eaten
up." When rather young these animals make very interesting pets; they
soon become tame, and will allow you to stroke their cheeks. You
remember our placing a hedgehog on the study table, and seeing how it
got off on to the ground. It came to the edge, and threw itself off,
coiling up its body partly as it fell; the elastic nature of its
prickly covering enabling it to bear the shock of the fall without the
slightest inconvenience.
[Illustration: GREAT GREY SHRIKE, OR BUTCHER BIRD, WITH ITS
VICTIMS--SHREWS AND BLUE TITMOUSE.]