article, something which is a little curious in its appearance. Let us
take a step down to the very bottom of the sea; not in those
comparatively shallow places, where the divers descend to look for
wrecks and treasure, but in deep Water, miles below the surface. Down
there, on the very bottom, you will see this strange thing. What do
you suppose it is?
It is not an animal or a fish, or a stone, or shell. But plants are
growing upon it, while little animals and fishes are sticking fast to
it, or swimming around it. It is not very thick--scarcely an inch--and
we do not see much of it here; but it stretches thousands of miles. It
reaches from America to Europe, and it is an Atlantic Cable. There is
nothing in the water more wonderful than that.
HANS, THE HERB-GATHERER.
[Illustration]
Many years ago, when people had not quite so much sense as they have
now, there was a poor widow woman who was sick. I do not know what was
the matter with her, but she had been confined to her bed for a long
time.
She had no doctor, for in those days many of the poor people, besides
having but little money, had little faith in a regular physician. They
would rather depend upon wonderful herbs and simples, which were
reported to have a sort of magical power, and they often used to
resort to charms and secret incantations when they wished to be cured
of disease.
This widow, whose name was Dame Martha, was a sensible woman, in the
main, but she knew very little about sickness, and believed that she
ought to do pretty much as her neighbors told her. And so she followed
their advice, and got no better.
There was an old man in the neighborhood named Hans, who made it a
regular business to gather herbs and roots for moral and medical
purposes. He was very particular as to time and place when he went out
to collect his remedies, and some things he would not touch unless he
found them growing in the corner of a churchyard--or perhaps under a
gallows--and other plants he never gathered unless the moon was in its
first quarter, and there was a yellow streak in the northwest, about a
half-hour after sunset. He had some herbs which he said were good for
chills and fever; others which made children obedient; others which
caused an old man's gray hair to turn black and his teeth to grow
again--if he only took it long enough; and he had, besides, remedies
which would cure chickens that had the pip, horses that kicked, old
women with the rheumatism, dogs that howled at the moon, boys who
played truant, and cats that stole milk.
Now, to our enlightened minds it is very evident that this Hans was
nothing more than an old simpleton; but it is very doubtful if he
thought so himself, and it is certain that his neighbors did not. They
resorted to him on all occasions when things went wrong with them,
whether it was the butter that would not come in their churns, or
their little babies who had fevers.
Therefore, you may be sure that Dame Martha sent for Hans as soon as
she was taken ill, and for about a year or so she had been using his
herbs, making plasters of his roots, putting little shells that he
brought under her pillow, and powwowing three times a day over bunches
of dried weeds ornamented with feathers from the tails of yellow hens
that had died of old age. But all that Hans, could do for her was of
no manner of use. In vain he went out at night with his lantern, and
gathered leaves and roots in the most particular way. Whether the moon
was full or on the wane; whether the tail of the Great Dipper was
above the steeple of the old church, or whether it had not yet risen
as high as the roof; whether the bats flew to the east or the west
when he first saw them; or whether the Jack o'lanterns sailed near the
ground (when they were carried by a little Jack), or whether they were
high (when a tall Jack bore them), it made no difference. His herbs
were powerless, and Dame Martha did not get well.
About half a mile from the widow's cottage there lived a young girl
named Patsey Moore. She was the daughter of the village Squire, and a
prettier girl or a better one than Patsey is not often met with. When
she heard of Dame Martha's illness she sometimes used to stop at the
cottage on her way to school, and leave with her some nice little
thing that a sick person might like to eat.
One day in spring, when the fields were full of blossoms and the air
full of sunshine and delicious odors, Patsey stopped on her way from
school to gather a bunch of wild-flowers.
They grew so thickly and there were so many different kinds, that she
soon had a bouquet that was quite fit for a parlor. On her way home
she stopped at Dame Martha's cottage.
"I am sorry, Dame Martha," said she, "that I have nothing nice for
you to-day, but I thought perhaps you would like to have some flowers,
as it's Spring-time and you can't go out."
[Illustration]
"Indeed, Miss Patsey," said the sick woman, "you could'nt have brought
me anything that would do my heart more good. It's like hearing the
birds sing and sittin' under the hedges in the blossoms, to hear you
talk and to see them flowers."
Patsey was very much pleased, of course, at this, and after that she
brought Dame Martha a bouquet every day.
And soon the good woman looked for Patsey and her beautiful flowers as
longingly and eagerly as she looked for the rising of the sun.
Old Hans very seldom came to see her now, and she took no more of his
medicines. It was of no use, and she had paid him every penny that she
had to spare, besides a great many other things in the way of little
odds and ends that lay about the house. But when Patsey stopped in,
one afternoon, a month or two after she had brought the first bunch of
flowers, she said to the widow:
"Dame Martha, I believe you are a great deal better."
"Better!" said the good woman, "I'll tell you what it is, Miss Patsey,
I've been a thinking over the matter a deal for the last week, and
I've been a-trying my appetite, and a-trying my eyes, and a-trying how
I could walk about, and work, and sew, and I just tell you what it is,
Miss Patsey, I'm well!"
And so it was. The widow was well, and nobody could see any reason for
it, except good Dame Martha herself. She always persisted that it was
those beautiful bunches of flowers that Patsey had brought her every
day.
"Oh, Miss Patsey!" she said, "If you'd been a-coming to me with them
violets and buttercups, instead of old Hans with his nasty bitter
yarbs, I'd a been off that bed many a day ago. There was nothing but
darkness, and the shadows of tomb-stones, and the damp smells of the
lonely bogs about his roots and his leaves. But there was the heavenly
sunshine in your flowers, Miss Patsey, and I could smell the sweet
fields, when I looked at them, and hear the hum of the bees!"
It may be that Dame Martha gave a little too much credit to Patsey's
flowers, but I am not at all sure about it. Certain it is, that the
daily visits of a bright young girl, with her heart full of kindness
and sympathy, and her hands full of flowers from the fragrant fields,
would be far more welcome and of far more advantage to many sick
chambers than all the old herb-gatherers in the world, with their
bitter, grave-yard roots, and their rank, evil-smelling plants that
grow down in the swamps among the frogs and snakes.
Perhaps you know some sick person. Try Patsey's treatment.
SOME CUNNING INSECTS.
[Illustration]
We hear such wonderful stories about the sense and ingenuity displayed
by insects, that we are almost led to the belief that some of them
must have a little reason--at least as much as a few men and women
that we know.
Of all, these wise insects, there is none with more intelligence and
cunning than the ant. How many astonishing accounts have we had of
these little creatures, who in some countries build great houses,
almost large enough for a man to live in; who have a regular form of
government, and classes of society--soldiers, workers, gentlemen and
ladies; and who, as some naturalists have declared, even have handsome
funerals on the occasion of the death of a queen! It is certain that
they build, and work, and pursue their various occupations according
to systems that are wisely conceived and most carefully carried out.
[Illustration]
Dr. Ebrard, who wrote a book about ants and their habits, tells a
story of a little black ant who was building an arch at the foundation
of a new ant-hill. It was necessary to have some means of supporting
this arch, which was made of wet mud, until the key-stone should be
put in and all made secure. The ant might have put up a couple of
props, but this is not their habit in building. Their laws say nothing
about props. But the arch must be supported, and so Mr. Ant thought
that it would be a good idea to bend down a tall stalk of wheat which
grew near the hill, and make it support the arch until it was
finished. This he did by carrying bits of wet mud up to the end of the
stalk until he had piled and stuck so much upon it that the heavy top
bent over. But, as this was not yet low enough, and more mud could not
be put on the slender stem without danger of breaking it, the ant
crammed mud in between the stalk at its root and the other stalks, so
that it was forced over still more. Then he used the lowered end to
support his arch!
[Illustration]
Some other ants once found a cockchafer's wing, which they thought
would be a capital thing to dry for winter, and they endeavored to get
it into the entrance of their hill. But it was too big. So they drew
it out and made the hole larger. Then they tried again, but the wing
was still too wide. They turned it and made several efforts to get it
in sideways, and upside down, but it was impossible; so they lifted it
away, and again enlarged the hole. But the wing would not yet go in.
Without losing patience, they once more went to work, and, after
having labored for three hours and a half, they at last had the
pleasure of seeing their dried wing safely pulled into their
store-room.
[Illustration]
Then, there are spiders. They frequently show the greatest skill and
cunning in the construction of their webs and the capture of their
prey, and naturalists say that the spider has a very well developed
brain. They must certainly have a geometrical talent, or they could
not arrange their webs with such regularity and scientific accuracy.
Some spiders will throw their webs across streams that are quite wide.
Now, to do this, they must show themselves to be engineers of no small
ability. Sometimes they fasten one end of a thread to a twig on one
side of the stream, and, hanging on the other end, swing over until
they can land on the other side. But this is not always possible, for
they cannot, in some places, get a chance for a fair swing. In such a
case, they often wait until the wind is blowing across the stream
from the side on which they are, and, weaving a long line, they let it
out until the wind carries it over the stream, and it catches in the
bushes or grass on the other side. Of course, after one thread is
over, the spider can easily run backward and forward on it, and carry
over all the rest of his lines.
[Illustration]
Bees have so much sense that we ought almost to beg their pardon when
we speak of their instinct. Most of us have read what Huber and others
have told us of their plans, inventions, laws, and regular habits. It
is astonishing to read of a bee-supervisor, going the round of the
cells where the larvæ are lying, to see if each of them has enough
food. He never stops until he has finished his review, and then he
makes another circuit, depositing in each cell just enough food--a
little in this one, a great deal in the next, and so on.
There were once some bees who were very much disturbed by a number of
great moths who made a practice of coming into their hives and
stealing their honey. Do what they could, the bees could not drive
these strong creatures out.
But they soon hit upon a plan to save their honey. They blocked up
all the doors of the hive with wax, leaving only a little hole, just
big enough for one bee to enter at a time. Then the moths were
completely dumbfounded, and gave up the honey business in despair.
But the insect to which the epithet of cunning may be best ascribed,
is, I think, the flea. If you doubt this, try to catch one. What
double backsprings he will turn, what fancy dodges he will execute,
and how, at last, you will have to give up the game and acknowledge
yourself beaten by this little gymnast!
[Illustration]
But fleas have been taught to perform their tricks of strength and
activity in an orderly and highly proper manner. They have been
trained to go through military exercises, carrying little sticks for
guns; to work and pull about small cannon, although the accounts say
nothing about their firing them off; and, what seems the most
wonderful of all, two fleas have been harnessed to a little coach
while another one sat on the box and drove! The whole of this
wonderful exhibition was so small that a microscope had to be used in
order to properly observe it.
The last instance of the intelligence of insects which I will give is
something almost too wonderful to believe, and yet the statement is
made by a Dr. Lincecum, who studied the habits of the insect in
question for twelve years, and his investigations were published in
the _Journal of the Linnæan Society_. Dr. Lincecum says, that in Texas
there is an ant called by him the Agricultural Ant, which not only
lays up stores of grain, but prepares the soil for the crop; plants
the seed (of a certain plant called ant-rice); keeps the ground free
from weeds; and finally reaps the harvest, and separating the chaff
from the grain, packs away the latter, and throws the chaff outside of
the plantation. In "Wood's Bible Animals" you can read a full account
of this ant, and I think that after hearing of its exploits, we can
believe almost anything that we hear about the intelligence of
insects.
A FIRST SIGHT OF THE SEA.
[Illustration]
If you have ever seen the ocean, you will understand what a grand
thing it is to look for the first time upon its mighty waters,
stretching away into the distance, and losing themselves in the clouds
and sky. We know it is thousands of miles over to the other shore, but
for all that we have a pretty good idea of that shore. We know its
name, and have read about the people who live there.
But when, in the beginning of the sixteenth century, Vasco Nuñez de
Balboa stood upon the shore of the Pacific, and gazed over its
boundless waters, the sight to him was both grand and mysterious. He
saw that a vast sea lay beneath and before him--but that was all he
knew. Europeans had not visited it before, and the Indians, who had
acted as his guides, knew but little about it. If he had desired to
sail across those vast blue waters, Balboa would have had no idea upon
what shores he would land or what wonderful countries and continents
he would discover.
Now-a-days, any school-boy could tell that proud, brave soldier, what
lay beyond those billows. Supposing little Johnny Green (we all know
him, don't we?) had been there, how quickly he would have settled
matters for the Spanish chieftain.
"Ah, Mr. Balboa," Johnny would have said, "you want to know what lies
off in that direction--straight across? Well, I can tell you, sir. If
you are standing, as I think you are, on a point of the Isthmus of
Darien, where you can look directly westward, you may cast your eyes,
as far as they will go, over a body of water, which, at this point, is
about eleven thousand miles wide. No wonder you jump, sir, but such is
the fact. If you were to sail directly west upon this ocean you would
have a very long passage before you came upon any land at all, and the
first place which you would reach, if you kept straight on your
westward course, would be the Mulgrave Islands. But you would have
passed about seven or eight hundred miles to the southward of the
Sandwich Islands, which are a very important group, where there is an
enormous volcano, and where Captain Cook will be killed in about two
hundred and fifty years. If you then keep on, you will pass among the
Caroline Islands, which your countrymen will claim some day; and if
you are not eaten up by the natives, who will no doubt coax you to
land on some of their islands and will then have you for supper, you
will at last reach the Philippine Islands, and will probably land, for
a time, at Mindanao, to get water and things. Then, if you still keep
on, you will pass to the north of a big island, which is Borneo, and
will sail right up to the first land to the west, which will be part
of a continent; or else you will go down around a peninsula, which
lies directly in your course, and sail upon the other side of it, into
a great gulf, and land anywhere you please. Do you know where you will
be then, Mr. Balboa? Don't, eh? Well, sir, you would be just where
Columbus hoped he would be, when he reached the end of his great
voyage across the Atlantic--in the Indies! Yes, sir, all among the
gold, and ivory, and spices, and elephants and other things!
"If you can get any ships here and will start off and steer carefully
among the islands, you won't find anything in your way until you get
there. But, it was different with Columbus, you see, sir. He had a
whole continent blocking up his road to the Indies; but, for my part,
I'm very glad, for various reasons, that it happened so."
[Illustration]
It is probable that if Johnny Green could have delivered this little
speech, that Vasco Nuñez de Balboa would have been one of the most
astonished men in the world!
Whether he and his fellow-adventurers would ever have set out to sail
over those blue waters, in search of the treasures of the East, is
more than I can say, but it is certain that if he had started off on
such an expedition, he would have found things pretty much as Johnny
Green had told him.
THE LARGEST CHURCH IN THE WORLD.
[Illustration]
This is St. Peter's at Rome. Is it possible to look upon such a
magnificent edifice without acknowledging it as the grandest of all
churches? There are some others in the world more beautiful, and some
more architecturally perfect; but there is none so vast, so
impressive, so grand!
This great building was commenced in 1506, but it was a century and a
half before it was finished. Among other great architects, Michael
Angelo assisted in its construction. The building is estimated to have
cost, simply for its erection, about fifty millions of dollars, and it
has cost a great deal in addition in later years.
Its dimensions are enormous. You cannot understand what a great
building it is unless you could see it side by side with some house
or church with which you are familiar. Several of the largest churches
in this country could be stood up inside of St. Peter's without
touching walls or roof, or crowding each other in the least.
[Illustration]
There are but three works of man in the whole world which are higher
than the little knob which you see on the cupola surmounting the great
dome of St. Peter's. These more lofty buildings are the Great Pyramid
of Egypt, the Spire of Strasbourg, and the Tower of Amiens. The
highest of these, the pyramid, is, however, only forty-two feet above
St. Peter's. The great dome is supported by four pillars, each of
which is seventy feet thick!
But let us step inside of this great edifice. I think you will be
there even more impressed with its height and extent than you were
when you stood on the outside.
Is not here a vast and lofty expanse? But even from this favorable
point you cannot get a complete view of the interior. In front of you,
you see in the distance the light striking down from above. There is
the great dome, and when you walk beneath it you will be amazed at its
enormous height. There are four great halls like this one directly
before us, for the church is built in the form of a cross, with the
dome at the intersection of the arms. There are also openings in
various directions, which lead into what are called chapels, but which
are in reality as large as ordinary sized churches.
The pavement of the whole edifice is made of colored marble, and, as
you see, the interior is heavily decorated with carving and statuary.
Much of this is bronze and gold.
But if you should mount (and there are stairs by which you may make
the ascent) into the cupola at the top of the dome, and look down into
the vast church, and see the people crawling about like little insects
so far below you, you would perhaps understand better than at any
other time that it is not at all surprising that this church should be
one of the wonders of the world.
If we ever go to Europe, we must not fail to see St. Peter's Church at
Rome.
THE SOFT PLACE.
There was once a young Jaguar (he was very intimately related to the
Panther family, as you may remember), and he sat upon a bit of hard
rock, and cogitated. The subject of his reflections was very simple
indeed, for it was nothing more nor less than this--where should he
get his supper?
He would not have cared so much for his supper, if it had been that he
had had no dinner, and even this would not have made so much
difference if he had had his breakfast. But in truth he had eaten
nothing all day.
During the summer of that year the meat-markets in that section of the
country were remarkably bad. It was sometimes difficult for a panther
or a wildcat to find enough food to keep her family at all decently,
and there were cases of great destitution. In years before there had
been plenty of deer, wild turkey, raccoons, and all sorts of good
things, but they were very scarce now. This was not the first time
that our young Jaguar had gone hungry for a whole day.
While he thus sat, wondering where he should go to get something to
eat, he fell asleep, and had a dream. And this is what he dreamed.
He dreamed that he saw on the grass beneath the rock where he was
lying five fat young deer. Three of them were sisters, and the other
two were cousins. They were discussing the propriety of taking a nap
on the grass by the river-bank, and one of them had already stretched
herself out. "Now," thought the Jaguar in his dream, "shall I wait
until they all go to sleep, and then pounce down softly and kill them
all, or shall I spring on that one on the ground and make sure of a
good supper at any rate?" While he was thus deliberating in his mind
which it would be best for him to do, the oldest cousin cocked up her
ears as if she heard something, and just as the Jaguar was going to
make a big spring and get one out of the family before they took to
their heels, he woke up!
[Illustration]
What a dreadful disappointment! Not a deer, or a sign of one, to be
seen, and nothing living within a mile. But no! There is something
moving! It is--yes, it is a big Alligator, lying down there on the
rocks! After looking for a few minutes with disgust at the ugly
creature, the Jaguar said to himself, "He must have come on shore
while I was asleep. But what matters it! An Alligator! Very different
indeed from five fat young deer! Ah me! I wish he had not that great
horny skin, and I'd see if I could make a supper off of him. Let me
see! There is a soft place, as I've been told, about the alligator! If
I could but manage and get a grip of that, I think that I could settle
old Mr. Hardskin, in spite of his long teeth. I've a mind and a half
to try. Yes, I'll do it!"
[Illustration]
So saying, the Jaguar settled himself down as flat as he could and
crept a little nearer to the Alligator, and then, with a tremendous
spring, he threw himself upon him. The Alligator was asleep, but his
nap came to a very sudden close, you may be sure, and he opened his
eyes and his mouth both at the same time. But he soon found that he
would have to bestir himself in a very lively manner, for a strong
and hungry Jaguar had got hold of him. It had never before entered
into the Alligator's head that anybody would want to eat him, but he
did not stop to think about this, but immediately went to work to
defend himself with all his might. He lashed his great tail around, he
snapped his mighty jaws at his enemy, and he made the dust fly
generally. But it all seemed of little use. The Jaguar had fixed his
teeth in a certain soft place in his chest, under his fore-leg, and
there he hung on like grim death. The Alligator could not get at him
with his tail, nor could he turn his head around so as to get a good
bite.
The Alligator had been in a hard case all his life, but he really
thought that this surprising conduct of the Jaguar was something worse
than anything he had ever been called upon to bear.
"Does he really think, I wonder," said the Alligator to himself, "that
he is going to have me for his supper?"