Birds and All Nature
IN NATURAL COLORS
A MONTHLY SERIAL
FORTY ILLUSTRATIONS BY COLOR PHOTOGRAPHY
A GUIDE TO THE STUDY OF BIRD-LIFE
TWO VOLUMES A YEAR
VOLUME V.
JANUARY, 1899, TO MAY, 1899
EDITED BY C. C. MARBLE
CHICAGO
A. W. MUMFORD, PUBLISHER
203 Michigan Ave.
1899
COPYRIGHT 1899
BY
NATURE STUDY PUBLISHING CO.
BIRDS AND ALL NATURE.
ILLUSTRATED BY COLOR PHOTOGRAPHY.
VOL. V. JANUARY, 1899. NO. 1.
CONTENTS
Page
"TESS." 1
WHIPPOORWILL. 2
TONGUES. 5
THE MOUNTAIN LION. 11
THE HOLLY TREE. 12
THE LEMON. 13
ABOUT BEES. 17
BIRDS AS SHEPHERDS. 20
THE MISTLETOE. 23
THE EAGLE. 24
NUTS. 26
THE BIRTH OF ATHENA. 29
THE WHIPPOORWILL. 35
THE EAGLE (continued). 36
MIGRATORY BIRDS. 37
HOW BIRDS CARRY SEEDS. 37
THE SHIP OF THE DESERT. 37
THE SNAPPING-TURTLE. 38
THE STORY OF LITTLE BILLEE. 41
THE SANDHILL CRANE. 47
THE STORY OF LITTLE BILLEE (continued). 48
"TESS."
A remarkable example of the human-like intelligence of a chimpanzee,
rivaling that of the celebrated "Mr. Crowley," of New York, so long
the chief object of admiration in the museum of Central Park, was
that of the subject of this sketch. "Tess" was captured in Africa by
Allan Grosch and brought to Boston, where she was purchased by Frank
C. Bostock. She was brought up with Mr. Bostock's little girl and was
dressed the same as any child of three years. She walked upright, ate
with knife and fork, drank from a cup, had better table manners than
the average child of the same age, wore finger-rings, ear-rings, and
pin, and always surveyed herself in the glass to see that her pin was
on straight, and her dress hung right; she smoked a pipe, drew lines
on a blackboard, wrote with a pen, and imitated Mr. Bostock's little
girl in many ways. She uttered a few sounds which were understood by
her master, and seemed to understand what was said to her. She died of
pneumonia while being exhibited in the East, was purchased by Mr. C. F.
Gunther and presented by him to the Chicago Academy of Sciences. Her
age was three years and seven months.
The chimpanzee (_Simia troglodytes_) is considerably smaller than
the gorilla; old males reach a height of sixty-four inches; females,
forty-eight inches. The arms are long, reaching a little below the
knee, and possess great muscular power. In the feet the large toe is
separated from the others by a deep incision; and the sole is flat. The
hair of the chimpanzee is smooth, the color usually black, but in some
specimens it is a dull, reddish brown. Chimpanzees walk on all fours,
resting themselves on the calloused backs of their hands. The toes of
the feet are sometimes drawn in when walking. Naturalists say there
is a strong inclination in this species to show remarkably varying
individual types, which has led to controversies as to whether there
were not several different species.
That the chimpanzee was known to the ancients is made fairly certain
by the famous mosaic picture which once adorned the temple of Fortuna,
and which is said to be still preserved in the Barberini palace
at Palestrina in Italy. This mosaic represents, among many other
animals of the Upper Nile country, what is believed to have been the
chimpanzee. A young specimen was taken to Europe in the beginning of
the seventeenth century. They have been taken there repeatedly since
and are not infrequent features of the European animal market. Several
have been brought to the United States and placed in museums and
menageries.
It was formerly believed that the chimpanzee was a gregarious animal,
but it is now known that there are seldom more than five, or, at the
utmost, ten living together. Sometimes, however, they gather in greater
numbers for play. One observer claims to have seen at one time about
fifty of them which had assembled on trees and amused themselves with
screaming and drumming on the tree trunks. They shun human habitation.
Their nests are built in trees, not at a great height from the ground.
They break and twist and cross larger and smaller branches and support
the whole on a strong bough. A nest will sometimes be found at the end
of a bough, twenty or thirty feet from the ground. They change abiding
places often in looking for food or for other reasons. Two or more
nests are rarely seen in the same tree. Nests, properly so-called,
consisting of inter-woven branches, as Du Chaillu describes, have not
been seen by any of the other narrators.
When in repose the chimpanzee in the wild state usually assumes a
sitting posture. He is often seen sitting or standing, but it is said
the minute he is detected he drops on all fours and flees. He is an
adept at climbing. In his play he swings himself from tree to tree and
jumps with amazing agility. His food consists of fruits, nuts, buds,
etc.
While "Tess" was remarkably intelligent she was too young to show the
maturity of one in Nills' Zoological Garden in Stuttgart, an account of
which is given by the celebrated painter of animals, F. Specht. This
chimpanzee could laugh like a human being. He took notice of this,
for no other animal can show its joy by loud laughter. When he would
take the sympathetic fellow under the arms, throw him in the air and
catch him, the cage rang with his merry peals of laughter. One day he
took along a piece of chalk and sat down on a chair. In a moment the
chimpanzee was sitting on Specht's knees awaiting further developments.
He put the chalk in the animal's hand, and leading it, drew several
figures on the wall. When he released the chimpanzee's hand, the animal
started to shade the drawings with such diligence that they soon
disappeared, to the great amusement of the spectators.
There are now, or were a few years ago, two chimpanzees in the
Stuttgart zoological garden, which are the closest of friends. The
female had been there before and when the male arrived his box was put
over night in her warm, roomy cage the presentation being intended for
the morrow. When the box, which, by the way, had been upholstered,
was opened and the male got out, they both stood on their hind legs
for a few minutes earnestly gazing at each other. Then they flew into
each other's embrace and exchanged hearty and repeated kisses; and the
female brought her blanket, spread it on the floor, sat down on it and
by gestures invited the male to do likewise. It made a charming picture
to see these two taking their meals at a table. They both used spoons
and did not in the least interfere with each other. The female had
the peculiarity of cautiously taking the male's glass, and drinking a
goodly portion out of that, too, after which she returned it. Both of
these animals laughed heartily when at play.
Barnum, the American showman, had two chimpanzees, "Nip" and "Tuck," on
exhibition in various cities and towns, but they did not display much
intelligence, nor did they live long. Other attempts to introduce the
chimpanzee have not been encouraging. The experiment of keeping one
has not been tried in the South, however, where there are doubtless
cities whose climatic condition would prove to be favorable for
keeping chimpanzees much longer than is possible in the more northern
zoological collections.
WHIPPOORWILL.
Hark! I hear the voice again,
Softly now and low,
When the twilight's o'er the plain
And the first stars glow.
This is what it uttereth--
In a rather mournful breath--
"Whip-poor-will! Whip-poor-will!"
What has Will been doing now?
Has he truant played
With a sad, coquettish brow
From some simple maid?
Did he steal her heart away?
For I hear you always say
"Whip-poor Will! Whip-poor Will!"
Tell me now what Will has done.
Who's to whip him, dear?
Is he some scamp full of fun
That is straying near?
Have you caught him at your nest
By the ones you love the best?
"Whip-poor-Will! Whip-poor-Will!"
That is all you seem to say,
Little bird so shy.
Tell me now, without delay,
Why whip Will, oh! why?
There! your voice fades in the lea--
Leaving this command to me,
"Whip-poor-Will! Whip-poor-Will!"
--_Monroe H. Rosenfeld._
[Illustration: COPYRIGHT 1899, NATURE STUDY PUB. CO., CHICAGO.
CHIMPANZEE.
1/6 Life-size.
FROM COL. CHI. ACAD. SCIENCES.]
TONGUES.
W. E. WATT.
The tongue is said to be the stomach begun. It is the first organ of
the digestive system which acts upon the food. It is the source of much
of the pleasure of life, particularly to young people. As it stands
at the entrance to the alimentary canal it is endowed with powers of
detecting the qualities of whatever the hands present to the stomach.
In early life the system demands abundant supplies of good material
to build up growth and maintain activity. The sense of taste is then
peculiarly keen, and the appetite for good things is strong. After
maturity the desires become less and one has not so much pleasure in
eating unless by active labor or from some other cause the digestive
organs are kept in a robust condition.
With the years the tastes change. We wonder how children can possibly
eat such quantities in such combination. The food which fairly
delighted us long ago has little or no attraction for us, and with many
adults there is need for strong seasoning and condiments which children
avoid.
The child clamors for sweets. The adult is inclined to check the
child in eating that which would not digest in the adult's stomach.
But Herbert Spencer won the hearty esteem of the youngster when he
gave scientific argument showing that growing children need highly
concentrated foods to meet the demands of nature, and they may be
permitted, in fact encouraged, to eat freely of foods which are
unsuited to mature people.
The tongue's special work is telling us whether a given substance is
good for us. Like other senses it may be deceived and is not always to
be relied upon. And when it has told us once correctly we may make a
serious mistake in following its advice too extensively so as to learn
that too much of a good thing is not all good.
Nearly all substances have taste. That is, the tongue has power to tell
us something about almost every substance in nature. Water is about
the only substance found in nature that has no taste. But we rarely
find water that is pure enough to be entirely without taste. Nearly all
solids that can be dissolved in water have taste. So have nearly all
liquids. When we say that water tastes good we recognize the mineral in
it, or some combination of minerals that the human body needs in its
economy.
The substances that the taste recognizes most readily are common salt,
vinegar, quinine, pepper, and alcohol. Those least exciting to the
tongue are starch, white of egg, and gum.
The tongue does its work by means of three sorts of papillæ which cover
its surface. There are many very fine ones all over the tongue, but
these are most numerous near the tip. Some larger ones which are not so
pointed in form are also more plentiful near the tip of the tongue. And
there are from eight to fifteen much larger still that are arranged in
rows like the letter V at the base of the tongue.
Bitter is tasted mainly at the back of the tongue. Sweet is tasted all
along, but is most delightful at the base of the tongue, and it is by
this cunning arrangement that nature gets the tongue to pass the sweet
morsel along to the throat where it is seized and hurried downward by
the act of swallowing.
These papillæ have within them capillary blood vessels and the
filaments of nerves. They are the seat of the tongue's sensibility.
Whatever is tasted must come into chemical action over these little
points. Moderate pressure helps the sensation, so we smack our tongues
sometimes when we are not in company. Cold deadens taste to some
extent and heat acts in nearly the same way. Rinse the mouth with very
warm or very cold water and then take in a solution of quinine at about
forty degrees temperature and the bitter fluid will have almost no
bitterness till the temperature of the mouth and its contents becomes
somewhere near one hundred degrees.
Three things are necessary in a substance in order that it may be
tasted, and it is curious to note how common are all three. First, it
must be easily mixed with the saliva; second, it must easily spread
itself about so that it may mingle with the mucus that always covers
the papillæ; and third, it must be capable of acting chemically on the
protoplasm of the end organs when once it gets into the taste bulb.
All tasteless substances have one or more of these qualities lacking.
Wipe the tongue dry and place a sugar crystal upon it. No taste will be
experienced until the spot is moistened.
All substances do not taste alike to different tongues. We have noted
the difference in appreciation of certain foods in infancy and in
mature years. Water tastes differently to the fever patient and to the
well man. As substances taste differently at different times to the
same person, so they vary with individuals. One tongue is found on
careful examination to have three times as many papillæ as another,
one system is more susceptible to chemical action than another, and
the nervous system varies enough in different subjects to make a
considerable difference in the powers of taste.
One guest at table is delighted with a dish which appeals not at all to
the palate of his neighbor. In fact there are cases where the power of
taste has been temporarily or entirely lost. In such cases the patient
goes on with his daily eating in a mechanical way, not because it
tastes good, but because he must.
There seem to be different nerves for sweet, for bitter, for salty
things, and for acids. Substances are known to chemistry which act
differently on the nerves of the front and those of the back of the
tongue. They very curiously taste sweet to the nerves of the tip of
the tongue and at the same instant bitter to those at the base. If
leaves of the _Gymnema sylvestre_ be chewed, sweet and bitter things
are tasteless for awhile although acids and salts are tasted as usual.
Let an electric current pass through the tongue from the tip to the
root and a sour taste will be experienced at the tip. But no one has
yet explained why when the same sort of current is passed through in
the opposite direction the taste is alkaline.
Place a small piece of zinc under the tongue and a dime on top. The
saliva which moistens them will cause them to form a small galvanic
battery. As they are allowed to touch each other at the tip of the
tongue a sour taste will be experienced and in the dark a spark will
appear to the eyes.
There is a pretty microscopic formation on the sides of some of the
papillæ. It consists of rows of small openings or sacs egg-shaped
with very minute mouths at the surface. These are known to science as
taste bulbs. They are so small that three hundred of them put together
the long way will scarcely reach one inch. They are so numerous that
1,760 have been counted on one papilla of an ox's tongue. They are not
entirely confined to the surface of the tongue, for they have been
found in large numbers upon the soft palate and the uvula, and many
have been discovered on the back side of the throat and down into the
voice box, some of them even appearing upon the vocal cords. Their form
is much like that of a long musk melon, but they are too small to be
seen by the naked eye. The outer part or rind consists of rows of cells
evidently formed to hold what is within. On the inside are from five
to ten taste cells which are long enough to reach the whole length of
the bulb and protrude slightly at the opening where they are finely
pointed. They are attached at the other end and branch out as if to run
to several extremely fine divisions of the nerves.
Birds and reptiles have no taste bulbs in their papillæ. Tadpoles and
freshwater fishes have similar bulbs in their skin, and it is thought
they enjoy the taste of things around them without the necessity of
taking them in at the mouth.
We give the sense of taste more credit sometimes than it merits. What
we regard as tastes are often flavors or only smells. What is taken in
at the mouth gets to the nose by the back way if it is of the nature
of most spices, and so by use of the nose and the imagination we taste
things that do not affect the tongue at all. A cold in the head shows
us we do not taste cinnamon, we merely experience its pungency as it
smarts the tongue while its flavor we enjoy only with the nose.
With some substances we have a mixed experience that passes for taste,
but it is really a combination of taste, smell, and touch. With the
nostrils held one can scarcely distinguish between small quantities
of pure water and the same with a very little essence of cloves.
The difference is easily observed with the nostrils open or after
swallowing, for the odor of the mixture gets readily into the nose from
either direction.
It is curious to note that, although there are so many varieties of
taste, man has but few words to describe them with. We know the taste
of a thousand substances, and yet we are in nowise superior to the
veriest savage in the matter of speaking about their flavors. We are
obliged to speak in the same manner as the wild man of the forest and
say that a given taste is like the taste of some other thing, only
different.
One of the lowest forms of tongues is that of the gasteropod. All
snails and slugs are gasteropods. They have instead of a regular tongue
a strip that is called a lingual ribbon, one end of which is free and
the other fastened to the floor of the mouth. Across the ribbon from
left to right run rows of hard projections almost like teeth. Whatever
the mouth comes against is tested for food qualities by this rasping
ribbon which files away at the substance and wears away not only what
it works upon but the ribbon itself. This loss of tongue is no serious
affair to the gasteropod, for he finds his tongue growing constantly
like a finger-nail and he needs to work diligently at his trade or
suffer from undue proportions of the unruly member. Snails in an
aquarium gnaw the green slime from the sides of the vessel with their
lingual ribbons, and the process may be seen to more or less advantage
at times.
Taste is not all confined to tongues. Some people have papillæ on the
inside of the cheek. Medusae (Jelly Fish) have no tongues, but the
qualities of the sea-water are noted by them. As soon as rain begins to
fall into the sea they proceed directly towards the bottom, showing a
decided aversion to having their water thinned in any way.
Leeches show their powers of distinguishing tastes when they take in
sweetened water quite freely, but suck at the skin of a sick man much
less than at that of one in good health.
Taste in insects has its probable seat in many instances in a pair
of short horns or feelers back of the antennæ. These are constantly
moving over the parts of that which the insect is feeding upon, and so
apparently enjoyable is the motion of them that many scientists have
concluded that these are the taste organs of the insects having them.
At the same time it is quite probable that in all insects furnished
with salivary glands, a proboscis, or a tongue, the power of taste is
also or exclusively there.
Fishes seem to do most of their tasting somewhere down in the stomach,
for they pursue their prey voraciously and frequently swallow it
whole. With their gristly gums, in many cases almost of the toughness
of leather, there can be but little sensation of taste. Their equally
hard tongues, many times fairly bristling with teeth constructed for
capturing, but not for chewing, cannot possibly afford much of a taste
of what is going down the throat with the rushing water passing through
the open mouth and gills.
Serpents which swallow their food alive can get but little taste
of their victims as they pass over the tongue, although they are
deliberate in the act and cover them with a profusion of saliva.
It is quite possible that cattle in chewing the cud get the highest
enjoyment possible from this sense. They enjoy their food at the
first grasp of it, and prove it by their persistence in struggling
for certain roots and grasses, but their calm delight afterwards as
they lie in the shade and bring up from the recesses of their separate
stomachs the choice and somewhat seasoned pellets of their morning's
gleanings is an indication of their refined enjoyment of the pleasures
of this sense.
Sir John Lubbock calls attention to the remarkable instances of certain
insects in which the foods of the perfect insect and of the larvæ are
quite different. The mother has to find and select for her offspring
food which she would not herself touch. "Thus while butterflies and
moths feed on honey, each species selects some particular food plant
for the larvæ. Again flies, which also enjoy honey themselves, lay
their eggs on putrid meat and other decaying animal substances."
Forel seems to have found that certain insects smell with their
antennæ, but do not taste with them. He gave his ants honey mixed with
strychnine and morphine. The smell of the honey attracted them and
they followed what seemed to be the bidding of their antennæ, but the
instant the honey with its medication touched their lips they abandoned
the stuff.
Will fed wasps with crystals of sugar till they came regularly for it.
Then he substituted grains of alum for the sugar. They came and began
their feast as usual, but soon their sense of taste told them there was
some mistake and they retired vigorously rubbing their mouth parts to
take away the puckering sensation of the alum.
Cigar smokers who really enjoy the weed confess that they cannot tell
except by sight when the cigar goes out. In the dark they keep right
on drawing air through the cigar, and the pleasure of the smoke seems
to be in nowise diminished after the cigar is out unless the smoker
discovers he has no light. This seems to show that the sense of taste
has little to do with the pleasure of smoking.
Tongues are used in tasting, seizing food, assisting the teeth to chew,
covering the food with saliva, swallowing, and talking. Man and the
monkey, having hands to grasp food, do not use their tongues for this
purpose. The giraffe does so much reaching and straining after food
in the branches of trees that his tongue has become by long practice
a deft instrument for grasping. The woodpecker uses his tongue as a
spear, and the anteater runs his long tongue into the nest of a colony
of ants, so as to catch large numbers of the little insects on its
sticky surface.
Cats and their kind have a peculiarity in that instead of having
cone-shaped papillæ their tongues are covered with sharp spines of
great strength. These are used in combing the fur and in scraping bones.
Two characteristic accomplishments of man would not be his if it were
not for his versatile tongue; they are spitting and whistling. The
drawing of milk in nursing is an act of the tongue, and the power
of its muscles as well as the complete control of its movements is
an interesting provision of nature. It is believed by some that the
pleasures of the taste sense are confined to such animals as suckle
their young.
Tongues are rough because the papillæ, which in ordinary skin are
hidden beneath the surface, come quite through and stand up like the
villi of the digestive canal. The red color of the tongue is due to the
fact that the papillæ are so thinly covered that the blood circulating
within shows through.
[Illustration: FROM COL. CHI. ACAD. SCIENCES.
CHICAGO COLORTYPE CO., CHIC. & NEW YORK.
PUMA.
1/6 Life-size.
COPYRIGHT 1899, NATURE STUDY PUB. CO., CHICAGO.]
THE MOUNTAIN LION.
This is only one of the names by which the puma (_Felis concolor_)
is known in the United States. He has different local names, such as
tiger, cougar, catamount and panther, or "painter," as the backwoodsmen
entitle him, and silvery lion.
The puma ranges the whole of both the Americas from the Straits of
Magellan to where the increasing cold in the north of Canada blocks his
passage. Like many other large animals, however, the puma has retired
before the advance of civilization, and in many of the more thickly
populated portions of the United States a straggler, even, is rarely to
be found.
The haunts of the puma depend upon the nature of the country. In
sections well-wooded he decidedly prefers forests to plains; but
his favorite spots are edges of forests and plains grown with very
high grass. He always selects for his abode such spots as afford
some shelter, in the vicinity of rocks which have caverns for secure
concealment, and in which to bring forth his young. He spends the day
sleeping on trees, in bushes, or in the high grass; in the evening and
at night he goes forth to hunt. He sometimes covers great distances in
a single night, and sportsmen do not always find him near the place
where he struck down his prey.
All smaller, weak mammals are his prey--deer, sheep, colts, calves,
and small quadrupeds generally. When, however, his prey is so large
that it cannot all be devoured at one meal, the animal covers it with
leaves or buries it in the earth, returning later to finish his repast.
This habit is sometimes taken advantage of by his human enemy, who,
poisoning the hidden carcass with strychnine, often manages to secure
the lion when he comes back to eat it. The use of poison against these
and other carnivorous animals by the farmer and stock-raiser has become
so general in the West they are rapidly becoming exterminated. If it
were not for some such means of defense as this, the sheep-raisers and
cattle-growers would be quite powerless to protect their herds from
the attacks of the mountain lion and other beasts of prey.
The puma is a very bloodthirsty animal, and whether hungry or not,
usually attacks every animal, excepting dogs, that comes in his way.
When hungry, however, he disdains no sort of food, feeding even upon
the porcupine, notwithstanding the quills which lacerate his mouth and
face, or the skunk, heedless of that little animal's peculiar venom.
Ordinarily the puma will not attack man, fleeing, indeed, from him when
surprised, but he has been known when emboldened by hunger to make such
attacks. He, of course, sometimes kills the hunter who has wounded
him, though even then, by the cautious, he is little feared; but an
unprovoked assault, such as the mangling of a woman in Pennsylvania in
the eighties, is rare.
It is the habit of the puma to spring upon his prey from an eminence
such as a ledge of rocks, a tree, or a slight rise of ground. If he
fails to strike his victim, he seldom pursues it for any considerable
distance. In northern regions, however, he sometimes pursues the deer
when they are almost helpless in the deep snow. When he has seized his
victim, he tears open its neck, and laps its blood before he begins to
eat. He devours every part of a small animal, but the larger ones he
eats only in part--the head, neck, and shoulders--burying the rest.
Very young cubs when captured soon become thoroughly tamed, enjoying
the liberty of a house like a dog. When petted they purr like cats
and manifest their affection in much the same manner. When displeased
they growl, but a roar has never been heard from them. There is one
drawback to a tame puma, however, says Brehm. When he has great
affection for his master and likes to play with him, he hides at his
approach and unexpectedly jumps on him. One can imagine how startling
and uncomfortable would be such an ill-timed caress. An old puma, when
captured, sometimes rejects all food, preferring starvation to the loss
of liberty.
Every movement of the puma is full of grace and vigor; he is said
to make leaps of eighteen feet or more. His sight is keenest in the
dusk and by night; his sense of smell is deficient but his hearing is
extremely acute.
The lair in which the female brings forth her young is usually in a
shallow cavern on the face of some inaccessible cliff or ledge of
rocks.
In the southern states, Audubon says, where there are no caves or
rocks, the lair of the puma is generally in a very dense thicket or
in a canebrake. It is a rude sort of bed of sticks, weeds, leaves and
grasses. The number of cubs is from two to five. In captivity two
usually are born, but sometimes only one.
THE HOLLY TREE.
O reader! hast thou ever stood to see
The Holly tree?
The eye that contemplates it, well perceives
Its glossy leaves,
Ordered by an intelligence so wise
As might confound the atheist's sophistries.
Below a circling fence its leaves are seen
Wrinkled and keen;
No grazing cattle through their prickly round
Can reach to wound;
But as they grow where nothing is to fear,
Smooth and unarmed the pointless leaves appear.
I love to view these things with curious eyes,
And moralize;
And in this wisdom of the Holly tree
Can emblem see
Wherewith perchance to make a pleasant rhyme,
One which may profit in the after-time.
Thus, though abroad perchance I might appear
Harsh and austere,
To those who on my leisure would intrude
Reserved and rude,
Gentle at home amid my friends I'd be
Like the high leaves upon the Holly tree.
And should my youth, as youth is apt, I know,
Some harshness show,
All vain asperities I day by day
Would wear away,
Till the smooth temper of my age should be
Like the high leaves upon the Holly tree.
And as when all the summer trees are seen
So bright and green,
The Holly leaves a sober hue display
Less bright than they,
But when the bare and wintry woods we see,
What then so cheerful as the Holly tree?
--_Robert Southey._
THE LEMON.
DR. ALBERT SCHNEIDER,
Northwestern University School of Pharmacy,
Chicago.
The lemon is the fruit of a small tree from ten to fifteen feet
high. It is not particularly beautiful, being rather shrubby in its
appearance. It is an evergreen, bearing leaves, flowers, and fruit
all the year round. The flowers occur singly in the axils of the
leaves. The calyx is persistent, that is, it does not drop off like
the corolla, and may be found attached to the base of the fruit. The
corolla consists of five spreading petals of a purplish-pink color.
The lemons of the market are from cultivated plants of which there is
a large number of varieties. These cultivated varieties or forms took
their origin from the wild lemon trees native in northern India, in the
mountain forests of the southern Himalayas, in Kumoan, and Sikkim.
Lemons have been known for a long time. They were brought to the
notice of the Greeks during the invasion of Alexander the Great into
Media where the golden-yellow fruit attracted the attention of the
warriors who gave them the name of Median apples (_Mala medica_).
Later, Greek warriors also found this fruit in Persia, and hence named
it Persian apples (_Mala persica_). The eminent Greek philosopher and
naturalist Theophrastus, 390 B. C., described the fruit as inedible,
though endowed with a fragrant odor, and having the power to keep away
insects. On account of this latter property the so-called Median apple
was, by some, supposed to be identical with the fruit of the cedar
(_Kedros_) and therefore received the name "_Citrus_" from which is
derived "citrone," the German name, and "citronnier," the French name
for the fruit. Our word lemon is said to have been derived from the
Indian word _limu_ and the Arabian word _limun_. It seems that at
the time of the great Roman historian and naturalist, Pliny (23-79 A.
D.), the lemon was not yet extensively cultivated. Dioscarides (50 A.
D.) speaks highly of the medicinal virtues of the bitter and acrid
wild-growing lemon. Cælius Aurelianus recommends lemon juice in gout
and fevers. In 150 A. D., the lemon tree, evidently introduced, was
found growing about Naples and in Sardinia, but the fruit was still
inedible. About the third century cultivation had so far improved the
fruit that it could be eaten.
The Arabians are credited with first having introduced the lemon tree
into southern Europe. The noted Arabian geographer, Edrisi, twelfth
century, describes the lemon as very sour and about the size of an
apple and the plant as growing only in India. This latter statement
is, however, erroneous as the lemon had already been extensively
cultivated in southern and eastern Spain, where it was introduced by
the agriculturally-inclined Moors. It has been cultivated for many
centuries in nearly all of the countries bordering on the Mediterranean
Sea and is now also extensively cultivated in the tropical and
sub-tropical countries and islands of the Western Hemisphere. One
variety or species, (_Citrus lemetta_), is a native of the East Indies
and is extensively cultivated in the West Indies. Lemon trees are found
everywhere in the larger green houses and conservatories along with the
closely related orange (_Citrus vulgaris_.)
As the result of cultivation there are now about fifty varieties of
lemons in existence. Some of these are comparatively sweet or rather
insipid and are therefore known as sweet lemons. The sour varieties
are, however, more generally cultivated. Lest I forget I will here
state that the lemon is not identical, though closely related, with
the Citron, the fruit of the _Citrus medica_.
As above stated the lemon tree bears fruit all the year round so that
a number of crops are gathered annually. There are, however, three
principal crops collected as follows: The first from July to the
middle of September; the second in November; and the third in January.
Frequently there are also collections in April and in May. The tree
is rather delicate, not as hardy as the orange, for example. In upper
Italy it even becomes necessary to cover the trees during the winter
months. Lemons intended for shipment are picked before they are fully
ripe and packed in barrels or boxes holding from 400 to 700. When
exposed the fruit shrinks and loses in weight very rapidly, due to the
evaporation of moisture from the pulpy interior. In Italy each lemon is
wrapped in tissue paper to protect it against injury and to reduce the
evaporation of moisture. Sometimes they are coated with collodion or
covered with lead foil to reduce the loss of moisture.
The lemon is put to various uses. The yellow rind contains many minute
cavities which are filled with a fixed oil and an ethereal oil to which
the fruit owes its fragrant odor. In Italy the oil is obtained in a
very crude way. The peel is cut into three longitudinal slices. The
workman takes one of these in his right hand, in the left he grasps a
small sponge; by pressing the sponge against the outer surface of the
rind so that it becomes concave, the oil-bearing sacs are ruptured
and the oil absorbed by the sponge. This is repeated until the sponge
becomes saturated, when the juice is squeezed into a cup or other
vessel. I am very much afraid that the sponge and the hands of the
workman are not always clean. I have been informed that an attempt to
introduce machinery for extracting the oil was forcibly resisted. It
is also stated that the oil obtained by the "sponge process" is more
valuable than that obtained by machinery and distillation. The bitter
taste so evident in the lemon is due to _limonin_ and _hesperidin_,
which occur most abundantly in the rind.
The sour taste of the lemon is due to citric acid, which is found
in the large cells forming the pulpy interior. Of course the sap is
largely water, about 97.5 per cent., with about 2 per cent. citric
acid. The amount of acid varies, however, even rising to 9 or 10
per cent. The juice is easily expressed and is put to various uses.
Lemonade is largely consumed on ships, as it is said to prevent ship
scurvy. Washing face and hands with diluted lemon juice is said to
remove tan and freckles. The beneficial properties of lemon juice,
lemonade, in fevers is due to its cooling and refreshing effects,
and also to the fact that it acts as a heart sedative, thus tending
to lower the temperature. Lemon juice has been highly recommended in
acute rheumatism and also to counteract the effects of certain poisons,
especially opium.
The essential oil of lemon acts as a stimulant and has been used in
diseases of the eye (_ophthalmia_). It also serves to give an agreeable
odor to certain medicines, and is used in the manufacture of perfumery
and as a flavoring agent for confectionery.
The lemon peel is used in medicine. Candied lemon peel is a confection
prepared by boiling the peel in syrup and then allowing the sugar to
crystallize.
The following is a description of the excellently colored plate: _A_
is a flowering and fruit-bearing twig, nearly natural size; 1 is a
single flower, somewhat magnified; 2, stamens and pistil; 3, ovary in
longitudinal sections; 3_a_, ovary in cross section; 4, anthers; 4_a_,
pollen-grains; 5, fruit, nearly natural size; 6, cross-section of fruit
showing rind, large-celled pulp and seeds; 7, 8, and 9, seeds.
[Illustration: FROM KOEHLER'S MEDICINAL-PFLANZEN.
LEMON.]
ABOUT BEES.
FRED. A. WATT.
This subject is an ancient and honorable one. The most ancient
historical records make frequent reference to the honey-bee. A poem
written 741 B. C., by Eremetus was devoted to bees. In Scripture we
read of them and learn that Palestine was "a land flowing with milk and
honey" and we know that wild bees are very numerous there even to the
present time. In the year 50 B. C., Varro recommended that hives be
made out of basket-work, wool, bark, hollow-trees, pottery, reeds, or
transparent stone to enable persons to observe the bees at work. The
name "Deborah" is from the Hebrew and means bee; "Melissa," from the
Greek, has the same meaning.
Honey-bees were introduced into the United States from Europe, in the
seventeenth century, and our wild honey-bees are offspring of escaped
swarms. Like all enterprising Yankees they first settled in the eastern
states and rapidly spread over the West, where they were regarded with
wonder by the Indians and called the "white man's fly." They traveled,
or spread, with such regularity that some observers claimed to mark the
exact number of miles which they traveled westward during each year.
A great many species are almost, or entirely, worthless for domestic
purposes, while those that are especially valuable are very few. The
favorite at this time seems to be the Italian species, which was
introduced into the United States in 1860.
At the opening of the season each colony of honey-bees contains one
laying queen, several drones, and from 3,000 to 40,000 workers. The
workers begin by cleaning up the hive, and the queen starts in to rear
other bees at once; new comb is started, honey is brought in from the
earlier varieties of flowers and the busy bee is launched into another
season of sweetness and good works.
The United States Department of Agriculture, in one of its "Farmer's
Bulletins," under the heading, "How to Avoid Stings," says, "First,
by having gentle bees." At the time I first read this I thought they
should have completed the advice by adding "and extract their stings;"
but I find on investigation that the subject of gentle bees, is no
light matter to the bee-keeper, and that my idea that "a bee is a bee
and hence entitled to all the room he requires" does not hold good;
that a bee-keeper when purchasing a colony of bees of any species not
well known to him will ask if they are gentle in the same tone he would
use if he were inquiring about a horse.
Bees seem to do well wherever there are flowers enough to furnish them
with food, and are kept for pleasure and profit in all parts of our
country. A small plot of ground is devoted to bees by the farmer, a
village lot is often filled with hives, and even in our larger cities,
especially in New York, Chicago, and Cincinnati, if not in the gardens
or on the lawns, they may be found well established on the house-tops,
as many as thirty or forty colonies being found on a single roof. They
can usually find enough food in and around a city to keep themselves
busy without making long excursions; in fact, it sometimes happens that
they find more abundant pasturage in a city than they would in the
open country, especially where there are large parks and gardens or
where the linden (basswood) trees have been set out in any considerable
quantities. Sweet clover also sometimes overruns a neglected garden or
vacant lot and furnishes a rich field for the city-bred honey-bee.
In Egypt bees are transported on hive-boats from place to place
along the Nile according to the succession of flowers. The custom
also prevails in Persia, Asia Minor and Greece. In Scotland the same
method is used while the heather is in bloom and in Poland bees are
transferred back and forth between summer pastures and winter quarters.
A few years ago a floating bee house was constructed on the Mississippi
river large enough to carry two thousand colonies. It was designed to
be towed up the river from Louisiana to Minnesota, keeping pace with
the blossoming of the flowers and then drop back down the river to the
sunny South before cold weather should set in in the fall. Honey-bee
ships have also been talked of which could carry bees to the West
Indies to cruise for honey during the winter.
The bee is not fastidious, but will live in any kind of clean box or
barrel that may be provided for its use, hence it sometimes lives in
queer places. A swarm escaping will generally make its home in a hollow
tree or in a fissure of some large rock. The ancient English hives were
generally made of baskets of unpeeled willow. Cork hives are in use in
some parts of Europe, and earthenware hives are in use in Greece and
Turkey. Glass hives are mentioned as far back as the year 1665. In 1792
movable-comb hives were invented and in the century following more than
eight hundred patents were granted on hives in the United States.
Bee products form an important item of income in the United States,
more than two billion pounds of honey and wax being produced in a
single season. When we consider that this appalling amount of sweetness
is gathered a drop here and a drop there it leads us to figures too
large to be comprehended.
In considering the value of bees we must by no means think of honey
as their sole product, as beeswax is an important article. After the
honey has been extracted from the comb the latter is mixed with water
and boiled down and run into firm yellow cakes, from which the color
disappears if exposed for a certain length of time to the air. Thin
slices are exposed until thoroughly bleached, when it is again melted
and run into cakes, and is then known as the white wax of commerce.
Before oil lamps came into use large quantities of this white wax
were used in the manufacture of candles, which made the best light
then known, as they burned better than tallow candles and without the
smoke or odor which made the tallow article objectionable. The advent
of the oil-lamp, the gas jet, and the electric light have practically
disposed of its usefulness in that direction, except in devotional
exercises, although colored tapers made of white wax are now used for
decorative purposes, especially during the holiday season, when numbers
of them are used to light our Christmas trees. White wax is also used
extensively for making ornamental objects such as models of fruits and
flowers. Whole plants are sometimes reproduced and models of various
vegetable and animal products are reproduced in colored wax and used
for educational or museum purposes. The anatomist finds it of great
value in reproducing the normal and diseased structures of the human
form. No doubt the original wax works of Mrs. Jarley, made famous by
Dickens in "The Old Curiosity Shop," were a collection of wax images
made from the product of the honey-bee.
Metheglin is a drink made from honey, and is consumed largely in some
parts of the world. It is the nectar which the ancient Scandinavian
expected to sip in paradise, using skulls of his enemies as goblets.
The East Indies and the Philippine Islands seem to be under special
obligations to astonish the world in everything, and in order to keep
pace with their reputations have produced honey-bees of three sizes,
one of which is the smallest honey-bee known, and another the largest.
The smaller variety is so diminutive that one square inch of comb
contains one hundred cells on each side; the entire comb, as it hangs
from the twig of a small tree or bush, is only about the size of a
man's hand. The workers are a little longer, but somewhat more slender
than our common house-fly, and are blue-black in color, with the
exception of the anterior third of the abdomen, which is bright orange.
The giant East Indian honey-bee, which is probably identical with the
giant of the Philippines, is the largest known species of the genus.
They are about one-third larger than our common bee and build huge
combs of very pure wax which are attached to overhanging ledges of
rock or to the limbs of large trees. These combs are often five or six
feet in length, three or four feet in width and from one and one-half
to six inches in thickness. The amount of honey that they gather in
the course of a season is enormous and it has been suggested that if
introduced into this country they might be of immense value as they
would doubtless visit mainly the plants which our honey-bees could not
well gather from, such as red-clover, and thus increase the amount of
clover seed as well as the quantity of honey already produced. Up to
date, however, it is not proven that they will live in hives or that
they can live at all in this climate; the latter being regarded as
extremely doubtful by some of our best informed bee-men.
Not the least interesting thing in an apiary is the honey extractor,
consisting of a large can inside of which a light metal basket is made
to revolve by means of a simple gearing. The frames containing the
full comb are placed in this basket, the caps being shaved off. After
several rapid revolutions the comb is found to be empty and is then
returned to the hives to be refilled by the bees.
The queen bee is about one-third larger than the worker and is the
mother and monarch of the hive. Queens are sometimes raised by
bee-keepers for sale, especially by those who have an improved strain
of a certain species, or a new and desirable species of bee. When the
bee-keeper gets a mail order for a queen he procures a mailing-cage,
which is a small box-like cage covered with wire screen and cloth,
in one end of which he places a supply of food, the other end being
occupied by a ventilator. The queen and from eight to twelve workers,
as royal attendants, are then placed in the cage, the wire-screen and
cloth covers carefully wrapped around them, the address written, a one
cent stamp affixed and her royal highness is ready for her trip across
a continent, or, with additional postage, around the world.
When, from any cause, the bee-pastures become unproductive bees from
different hives often declare war on their neighbors, the strong
colonies singling out as enemies those that are weak or disorganized
by the loss of a queen. The war is always pursued without quarter and
thousands on each side perish in the fray, the victors always carrying
off every drop of honey in the hive of the vanquished, leaving the
unfortunate survivors of the defeated hive to perish by starvation.
In many parts of England when a member of the family dies someone
must tell the bees; this is done by taking the house door-key and
rapping thrice on each hive, repeating at the same time the name of the
deceased and his station in the family. If this ceremony is omitted the
bees will surely die. In some places the hives are draped with a strip
of black cloth when a death occurs in the family and with white cloth
in case of a wedding. If these ceremonies are omitted the bees are
insulted and will leave. Singing a psalm in front of a hive that is not
doing well will also set all things right, in some parts of England.
I will not attempt to explain how the American bee-keeper rears
bees without these ceremonies, but refer the reader to the various
hand-books on bee-keeping which will doubtless explain it.