_About the hen and her chickens._
It seems natural for mankind to love _accumulation_. When a child has
got two or three pieces of money, he wants more, and his desire of
increasing his stores, increases with his little wealth. When a person
gets together a few minerals, his wish to form a cabinet begins, and
in proportion as his collection enlarges, his eagerness for more
specimens is stimulated. This love of increase, is what I call a love
of _accumulation_, or a love of _laying up_.
Nov it is all the same with knowledge. A person who has only a few
ideas, is like the child who has only a few coppers; he is usually
eager to spend them and get rid of them. But one who has stored his
mind with many ideas, is like a person who has commenced a cabinet of
minerals: he wishes to increase his collection; he wishes to get new
specimens, and is delighted with those which are rare and beautiful.
Now, our hero, Jack, was just in this condition: he had begun his
mental cabinet of knowledge; he had learned a good deal about
insects; and he had entered the gate of a new and beautiful
science――ORNITHOLOGY――or the study of birds. How little did he think
that his acquaintance with the wren family had advanced him so far
into the delightful mysteries of science. Yet so it was. He now began
to notice other birds, such as the blue-bird, which belongs only to
America; the sparrows and finches, which build their nests in the
hedges and bushes, and sing so sweetly.
About this time his attention was very strongly attracted by a hen and
her chickens. Jack had himself set the hen; that is, he had put the
eggs under her, there being thirteen; for he was told that an even
number was unlucky, and an uneven number lucky; a notion, by the way,
that is very common, but utterly destitute of foundation. He was told
that the eggs would be hatched in just three weeks, and so it proved.
It is a curious thing that the eggs of hens should always be hatched
in just three weeks, and I must stop to tell you a story about this. A
man who pretended to be good and religious, told one of his neighbors
that his hens always hatched on Sunday, and he wondered what the
reason was. “I can tell you,” said the neighbor; “it is because you
set them on Sunday!” Thus we see that the improper conduct of the
pretended good man was exposed.
But to return to Jack. About the time the hen was to hatch, he went
every day to see if the chickens had come along. He could not help
wondering at the patience of the old hen, in sitting night and day so
faithfully upon her eggs. He noticed that she went off her nest but
once a day; that she was then in a great hurry to get a little food
and drink, and return to her duty, as if she was afraid her eggs would
suffer. He observed that nothing could tempt her from her charge; the
other hens were out in the fields, scratching the earth, feasting on
worms and insects, and delighting in the spring time; but the old hen,
forsaking these pleasures, remained upon her eggs. Though she was
wasted by hunger, thirst and fever, nothing could induce her to betray
her trust. There she continued, obeying that voice within, which we
call instinct.
On the twenty-first day of the hen’s sitting, Jack went early in the
morning to the nest, and his delight knew no bounds, when he heard, on
approaching it, the chickens peeping under the old biddy’s feathers.
The good mother herself seemed to be filled with a sort of quiet
ecstacy. When she heard the gentle cries of her offspring she
endeavored to hush them to rest by a few low notes, as much as to
say,――
“Hush, my dear――lie still and slumber.”
All this day, the hen remained on her nest, and Jack gave her a little
Indian meal mixed with water, to eat. The next day, twelve of the
thirteen eggs were hatched, and the old hen, with an air of
importance, and great caution, set forth with her brood. It was
interesting indeed to witness the scene.
No sooner had the mother and her flock issued from the shed in which
the hatching or incubation had taken place, than she began to scratch
away the leaves and grass with all her might. The chickens kept close
to her side, and though but a day old, seemed to know perfectly well
what it all meant. They picked up the little seeds and insects and
swallowed them down, taking care to avoid stones and dirt, and things
that are not fit for food. How could these little creatures know so
much? That is a curious question, and I can only answer, that God has
made them so!
The old hen went on from place to place, clucking all the time, and
taking the utmost pains to keep her brood together, and under her own
immediate inspection. She made her legs fly merrily among the leaves,
and many a bug and grub and worm did she discover for her little ones.
She would eat nothing herself, but gave everything to her chickens,
except once in a while she came across a beetle or other insect, too
big for her infant flock, and then she swallowed it.
Nothing could exceed the industry, energy and watchfulness of the old
biddy. For hours together, she continued to scratch and dig for her
young ones, as if life depended upon it. And all this time, it was
delightful to see how careful she was of her brood. Her head was
bobbing up and down every instant, and her sharp eye was turned on
every side, to see if there was danger. Not a bird flew over unmarked,
and if it was in any degree threatening in its appearance, the whole
flock was instantly drawn to a place of safety. If a cat or dog came
near, they were sure to repent it, and learn better manners for the
future.
When, at last, the young emigrants had filled their little crops, and
become weary, the old hen gathered them under her wings. There is
nothing in all nature more pleasing than a hen brooding her chickens.
The little creatures themselves are marked with a singular smoothness,
beauty and look of innocence. Those which are most weary bury
themselves deep in the plumage of their mother’s breast, and here,
cherished by a genial warmth, embedded in down, and every want and
fear appeased, they fall to sleep. Those which are not yet so drowsy,
peep out their heads from their mother’s feathers, and look around; or
they linger outside and pick among the gravel for food; or they nibble
at the old hen’s beak; or perchance they smooth some bit of their
delicate plumage that is ruffled; or possibly climb up the old hen’s
back. The look of innocence, peace and happiness displayed by the
chickens, and the mingled aspect of care and content borne by Mistress
Biddy, afford a touching and delightful picture. Who can witness it
and not feel that the God of love is the author of what we call
_nature_?
All these things were noted by Jack, and after he had observed them a
long time, he went for his aunt. He found her quite busy, but he could
not be contented till she left her work and went with him to see the
hen and her chickens. After looking at them a long time, they went to
the house, and some days after the following conversation took place:
_Jack._ Pray tell me, aunt Betsey, why the hen that has chickens
always keeps _clucking_?
_Aunt Betsey._ So that the chickens may always know where she is. The
chickens are continually running about, and sometimes they go to a
considerable distance, but as the hen is always clucking, they can at
any time find her. But for this they would inevitably get lost. If the
Creator had forgotten to teach hens to cluck, and had neglected to
make any other adequate provision, a brood of chickens could never
have been raised.
_J._ Well, why do the chickens always keep peeping?
_Aunt B._ So that the hen may know where they are. You will observe
that if two or three chickens are wandering together, away from the
hen, their peeping is usually faint and low; but if one is straying
alone, his tones are loud and distinct. They seem to feel confidence
when several are together, but if one is alone, he feels that it is
necessary to speak out. The clucking of the hen may be considered as
continually calling to her scattered brood, “Here I am, chicks――here I
am,” and the peeping of the chickens may be considered as saying,
“Here I am, mother――here am I.” In this way, a communication is kept
up even while the brood is scattered over a wide space, in search of
food. Almost all birds have natural cries, which answer the same
purposes with them, as the clucking of the hens and the peeping of the
chickens with these.
_J._ Well, aunt Betsey, I observe that the old hen seems to _talk_ to
her chickens. If a wren or a sparrow, or any other little harmless
bird flies by, the old hen says, “curr-r-r-r-r,” in a moderate tone,
as much as to say “look out,” and so all the chicks just cast their
eyes around and seem to take no notice of what has happened. But if a
hawk appear in the air, and near by, the “curr-r-r-r-r” is uttered in
a wilder key. The old hen steps high, and seeks a shelter, and the
little chickens run to her as if frightened out of their little wits.
Now, what I want to say is, how do the chickens, only two or three
days old, know so much and understand so well what their mother means
and says?
_Aunt B._ You might as well ask, Jack, how the chickens know so much
as to pick up seeds and worms when only a day old. The seeming
knowledge of these little creatures, which is often so wonderful, is
to be explained, as we explain the skill of the bees in building their
cells, and the ants in constructing their little cities in the
earth――by instinct――a power or knowledge implanted by nature, or, in
other words, by God, the author of nature. He gives those powers; and
though we may see their effects, he only can explain their operation.
But there is one thing in your observations upon the chickens, to
which I wish to call your attention, Jack. Did you ever know the old
hen to call to her chickens in danger, when they neglected or
disobeyed the call?
_J._ No, not that I remember.
_Aunt B._ Let this, then, be a lesson to you, my boy. The little birds
are taught obedience to their parents by God; and they obey. So God
has taught children obedience, for he has said in the solemn
commandment, “Honor thy father and thy mother;” and the apostle adds,
“Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right.” The hen,
the parent of the chickens, is their guardian; she knows more than
they do; she is stronger, and sees farther, and is wiser than they. It
is best for the chickens, therefore, that they should obey her. Were
they to neglect her counsel, they would be devoured by prowling beasts
or birds of prey. The obedience, therefore, that they are called upon
to exercise, is imposed for their good. And just so it is with respect
to children; their parents have more experience, knowledge, and wisdom
than they have; they know what is best for them. It is, therefore, for
the true happiness of children that they should obey their parents.
[Illustration]
City of Ancient Babylon.
Among the most wonderful things handed down to us by history, is the
account of the ancient city of Babylon, which is so often mentioned in
the Bible, and the remains of which astonish the traveller at the
present day. The most particular description we have of it is
furnished by the Greek historian, Herodotus, who visited it about four
hundred and fifty years before Christ.
He says that it was situated in a great plain, the river Euphrates
running through it from north to south.
Its form was square; each side measured fifteen miles, and the whole
circuit sixty miles. It was surrounded with walls, three hundred and
fifty feet high and eighty-seven feet thick. Upon these walls were two
hundred and fifty towers. The entrance to the city was by one hundred
gates of brass. Without the wall, there was a deep ditch around the
city, filled with water.
Upon the tops of the walls, there were buildings on each side
containing one room each. Between these there was space to drive a
chariot with horses. The walls were built of bricks cemented together
by bitumen. At every thirty layers of bricks, there was a layer of
reeds to give the fabric strength. The engraving at the head of this
article is intended to give some idea of the form of this mighty city,
as described by Herodotus.
The streets in the city were straight, the houses being four or five
stories high. The temple of Belus was of amazing magnitude, being
nearly as large as the great pyramid of Gizeh. It was a regular
square, each side measuring six hundred feet. It consisted of eight
towers one above another, and was of immense height. Beside this,
there was a magnificent palace, and connected with it were hanging
gardens of great extent.
The history of Babylonia goes back to a period of high antiquity. Its
founders were among the earliest nations that have been formed upon
the earth, and they appear to have reached a certain degree of science
and civilization, nearly two thousand years before Christ. Nimrod is
mentioned in the Bible as the founder of this empire, of which Babylon
was the capital. Here the kings of Assyria held their court, and
displayed a magnificence, the accounts of which strike us with wonder.
Here many of the arts were carried to great perfection, particularly
the manufacture of cotton, linen and silk.
Babylon reached its magnificence through the efforts of several
succeeding sovereigns. But Semiramis, the wife of Ninus, is said to
have been its founder. In the year 538 B. C. it was taken by Cyrus,
king of Persia, who made it his winter residence. At this place,
Alexander, who had conquered Persia, died, 323 B. C.
The ruins of this wonderful city are to be seen about forty-eight
miles south of the present city of Bagdat. Its prodigious walls have
entirely disappeared, and it is not easy to trace even the outline of
this once mighty metropolis. The remains consist of heaps of rubbish,
principally bricks. It does not appear that the architecture of the
Babylonians had reached a high degree of refinement. Its chief
characteristic was colossal dimensions. The remains of the temple of
Belus are still to be distinguished, and consist of a heap of ruins
about one hundred and twenty feet in height. This complete destruction
of Babylon, and the desolation which presides over the scene, is
regarded as a terrific fulfilment of the prophetic denunciations
uttered against it by the prophets.
[Illustration]
The Leopard.
This animal, a handsome, but fierce member of the great family of
cats, is smaller than either the lion or the tiger. Its skin is very
beautiful, being spotted with large ocellated black spots on a light
ground, which sometimes approaches to a bright yellow color. The
leopard is remarkably lithe and flexible in all its motions. It is a
very symmetrical animal, and as its expression partakes as much of
wildness as of fierceness, it is among the handsomest of its tribe. It
preys upon small animals, is frequently on the hunt, and probably
kills more creatures than do the tiger or the lion. It is said to be
found only in the islands of the Oriental Archipelago, and in the
Eastern peninsula.
The leopard climbs trees with astonishing rapidity, so that few
animals are safe from his ravages. Man alone seems to be respected by
him, but if pressed hard in the pursuit by the hunter, it will turn
upon him, and much skill and prowess is then necessary to guard
against the fury of his attacks.
Two men in Southern Africa fell in with a leopard in a mountain
ravine, and immediately gave chase to him. The animal at first
endeavored to escape by clambering up a precipice, but being hotly
pressed, and slightly wounded by a musket ball, he turned upon his
pursuers with that frantic ferocity which he frequently displays, and
springing upon the man who had fired upon him, tore him from his horse
to the ground, biting him at the same time very severely on the
shoulder, and tearing his face and arms with his claws. The other
hunter, seeing the danger of his comrade, sprung from his horse, and
attempted to shoot the leopard through the head; but, whether owing to
trepidation, or the fear of wounding his friend, or the sudden motions
of the animal, he unfortunately missed his aim.
The leopard now, abandoning his prostrate enemy, darted with redoubled
fury on this second antagonist, and before the poor man could stab him
with his hunting knife, he struck him in the eyes with his claws, and
had torn the scalp over his forehead. In this frightful condition, the
hunter grappled with the savage beast, and, struggling for life, they
both rolled down a steep declivity. All this passed so rapidly that
the other man had scarcely time to recover from the confusion into
which his feline foe had thrown him, to seize his gun and rush forward
to aid his comrade, when he beheld them rolling together down the
steep bank, in mortal combat.
In a few moments, he was at the bottom with them, but too late to save
the life of his friend. The leopard had so dreadfully torn the throat
of the unfortunate man that his death was inevitable――and he had only
the satisfaction of completing the destruction of the savage beast,
which was already exhausted by the wounds given in his breast by the
desperate knife of the expiring huntsman.
In a captive state, the leopard is easily domesticated. There was a
pair of these animals recently in the tower of London. The female was
very tame and gentle, and would allow herself to be patted and
caressed by the keepers, while she purred and licked their hands. She
had one curious peculiarity; she was very fond of destroying parasols,
umbrellas, muffs and hats, which she frequently contrived to lay hold
of before the unwary spectator could prevent it, and tore them to
pieces in an instant. While this creature was in a playful mood, she
bounded about her cell with the quickness of thought, touching the
four sides of it nearly at one and the same instant. So rapid were her
motions that she could scarcely be followed by the eye; and she would
even skim about the ceiling of her apartment with the same amazing
rapidity――evincing great muscular powers and wonderful pliability of
form.
The Old Man in the Corner.
NO. III.
REMINISCENCES OF A RAG.
(_Continued._)
We shall now proceed to tell what appeared to be written on the
mysterious scroll handed forth by the seeming ghost of the rag-bin.
“I remained for a long time in the bale of cotton, shut out from the
light of heaven, and in a state of uncertainty as to my condition or
fate. At last I felt the bale to be tumbled about, and finally I
conjectured that we were now on shipboard. This proved to be correct;
for in about a month we were landed at Liverpool, a great city on the
western coast of England. In a few weeks we were taken by canal
through a beautiful country, to Manchester, thirty-six miles east of
Liverpool.
“As we glided along, I could see that the whole country was highly
cultivated, and almost covered with cities and villages. Hundreds of
tall steepling chimneys rose from their places, and poured forth
volumes of smoke or flame, thus showing that the people, on all hands,
were busy in their various manufactories. Never did I imagine such
scenes of industry and activity.
“On arriving at Manchester, I was amazed to see so great a city; it
consisted, in part, of many buildings four and five stories high, some
of them having a hundred windows! It was night when we arrived, and
these buildings, which were chiefly cotton factories, were all lighted
up. Never did I see such a display; it seemed as if the whole city was
illuminated.
“Our bale was soon landed at one of the factories, and we were stowed
into a ware-room, almost as big as a church. Here were at least three
hundred bales of cotton, as big as ours. Thinks I to myself, it will
be a long time before it will be our turn to be spun, and twisted, and
woven into cloth. In this, however, I was mistaken, for, in about a
month, I found myself twitched out of the bale and put into a machine,
where I was picked all to pieces. I was then put into the carding
machine, which made me dance up and down and whirl about and about
with such velocity, and amid such an everlasting hubbub, that I
completely lost my senses. When I came to myself, I was made into a
smooth roll, about a yard long, and one end of me was being twisted
into thread. The room where this took place, was as big as a church,
and several thousand spindles were twirling about and twisting the
cotton into threads as fine as a hair. I was fairly giddy with the
operation, and did not feel comfortable till I found myself wound snug
and smooth upon a little spool or bobbin.
“I was not permitted to remain long in this state, for I was shortly
placed upon a loom with a multitude of other spools, and was soon
woven into a piece of fine muslin. I now went through various
operations, and was finally done up with the piece, consisting of
twenty-seven yards. I was despatched in a car, with forty-nine other
pieces, to London, and in about a month we were shipped to Brazil, in
South America. Our case was then purchased by an American merchant:
this was bought by a shopkeeper of Rio de Janeiro, who soon opened it
and took out the piece I was in and laid it upon a shelf. In a day or
two I was bought by a beautiful lady, and made into a frock for her
infant.
“It was a gay time now, for I was dandled up and down and made a great
deal of. Everybody said, what a beautiful baby! and what a pretty
frock! But sorrow soon followed. The lovely infant died; it was laid
in its coffin, and I was its burial dress! The corpse was borne to the
church with a long retinue of priests, holding torches in their hands.
When they came to the church, they sung a solemn dirge, and the dim
arches of the holy edifice seemed to echo back the sad and wailing
tones. The coffin was deposited in its vault――the music ceased――the
throng dispersed, and a fearful stillness reigned around. I could see
and feel, even amid the darkness of my prison house, how sweet was the
placid face of that lovely babe――smiling in its lonely, desolate
grave! I clung to its bosom, and was happy, even though I had no other
hope than to perish, and moulder, and be forgotten.
“A day passed, and midnight came. A fearful stillness rested upon the
church and all around――save that, perchance, the wings of the bats
might be heard, fanning the dark recesses of the cathedral; or the
drops of moisture that fell upon the lids of the coffins, at long
intervals, from the arches of the tombs, caught the listening ear of
silence. But at last the stillness was disturbed; a light, sliding
step was heard upon the marble floor of the church; the door of the
tomb where I lay was opened, the lid of the coffin was lifted, and the
rays of a dark lantern were turned upon the corpse of the babe. I
could see that it was the sexton who thus invaded the sanctuary of the
dead. He first took a diamond from the bosom of the infant, and then,
disrobing the body, carried me away. I was borne to his house, where
his wife soon took the frock to pieces, and the long skirt was now but
a simple piece of muslin. It was carefully ironed and sold to a
pawnbroker.
“I was soon purchased by a negro girl, a slave, black and glittering
as anthracite, who carried me home and made me into a wedding turban.
Three days after I had been sleeping as a shroud in the crypt of the
church of St. Nicholas, I was the head-dress of a bride, named
‘Phillipina Squash!’”
[To be continued.]
The Pyramids of Egypt.
These gigantic monuments, erected before the period at which authentic
history begins, have ever excited the curiosity and wonder of mankind.
Their vast antiquity, their amazing magnitude, the mystery which hangs
over their origin and design, contribute to render them objects of
intense interest.
There are great numbers of these structures in Egypt, and about eighty
in Nubia. Those of the former country are all situated on the west
side of the Nile, and extend, in an irregular line, to the distance of
nearly seventy miles. The most famous are those of Jizeh, opposite the
city of Cairo. The largest, which is said to have been built by
Cheops, a king of Egypt, about 900 years B. C., is by far the greatest
structure in stone that has been reared by the hand of man. Near this
great pyramid, are two others, of considerable size, and several
smaller ones. All have square foundations, and their sides face the
cardinal points. The largest pyramid excited the wonder of Herodotus,
who visited Egypt 450 B. C. He says that one hundred thousand men were
employed twenty years in building it, and that the body of Cheops was
placed in a room beneath the bottom of the pyramid. The second pyramid
is said to have been built by Cephrenes, the brother of Cheops, and
the third by Mycerines, the son of Cheops.
The great pyramid consists of a series of platforms, each of which is
smaller than the one on which it rests, and consequently presents the
appearance of steps. Of these steps there are two hundred and three.
They are of unequal thickness, from two feet and eight inches, to four
feet and eight inches. The stones are cut and fitted to each other
with great nicety. The whole height is four hundred and fifty-six
feet. The top is a platform, thirty-two feet square. The foundation is
seven hundred and sixty-three feet on each side, and covers a space of
about thirteen acres.
[Illustration (pyramids of Egypt)]
The pyramid has been entered, and has been found to consist of
chambers and passages, some of great extent.
The material of which the pyramids are built is limestone, and it is
probable that this was obtained from limestone quarries contiguous to
the place where they now stand. The stones of the great pyramid rarely
exceed nine feet in length, six and a half in breadth, and four feet
eight inches in thickness. The ascent is attended with great
difficulty and danger, on account of the broken state of the steps;
yet it is frequently accomplished, and sometimes by females. The scene
from the top is described by travellers as inconceivably grand.
The purpose for which these monuments were reared, has been a question
of great interest. It has been conjectured that they were built as
observatories, but this seems to be an absurd supposition; for why
build three or four close together of nearly the same elevation? There
is no good reason to doubt that they were erected as burial places for
the Egyptian kings, who caused them to be constructed. The natural
pride of man, the desire of being remembered for ages, and probably
some superstitious notions connected with the religion of the country,
doubtless furnished the motives for the construction of these vast
monuments. Nothing can better show the folly of human ambition, than
that, while these senseless stones remain, their builders have
perished, and their memories been blotted out forever.
[Illustration (head of American Indian)]
Pictures of Various Nations.