Charley was going fishing and he took great pride in the quantity of
squirming bait he carried in the tin box.
He was quite a small boy, only eight years old, but country boys learn
to take care of themselves sooner than city children.
When he reached the little stream where he meant to fish, he found some
one before him. It was a stranger whom Charley had seen once or twice
at a neighbor's, where he was boarding during the summer.
The old mill was the best place in miles for fish, and Charley wished
that the city boarder had chosen some other spot in which to read his
book.
He gave a shy, not very cordial reply to the stranger's pleasant "Good
morning!" and began to arrange his line. In a few minutes one of the
largest earthworms was wriggling in the water at the end of Charley's
hook, and he himself was sprawled out upon the ground at the end of a
long beam projecting from the mill intently regarding the water.
"No luck, my boy?" asked the stranger, watching Charley work with the
struggling worm that was as hard to get off the hook as it had been to
put on.
"No, sir," replied the little boy. "The fishes don't seem to bite."
"Not hungry to-day, eh?" said the stranger. "I should think that would
be a good thing for the worms."
Charley opened his eyes. It had never occurred to him to consider the
worms in the matter. They were to him nothing but ugly, stupid things,
which, his father said, injured the roots of plants.
"Don't you think the worms are as fond of their life as you are of
yours?" went on Charley's new friend. "In their little underground
earth houses they are very comfortable and happy."
Charley smiled. This was a new view of the case to him, and he edged
nearer to the stranger to hear what more he would say.
"They's on'y worms," said Charley.
"And a worm is a very good sort of creature in its way. They are
harmless, cleanly animals. See, I can take that one of yours in the
palm of my hand and it will not harm me in the least. Let me put
it down on the ground and see how it hurries to get away. It is
frightened. Now it is trying to force a way into that damp earth. I
wonder if you know just how the worm makes its way through the ground."
Charley shook his head, and the stranger said:
"You have often noticed the shape of the worm, I dare say. One end of
its body is much thicker than the other, which runs to a point. The
thicker end of the body is the head. The body itself, you will see,
is made of many small rings, held together by tiny muscles and skin,
making it possible for the worm to bend and curl and wriggle in a way
that is impossible for you and me, whose bones are fewer and fitted
tightly together, so that they move about less easily.
"Now, if you will take this one in your hand," said the stranger, "and
run your fingers very gently down its sides from tail to head, you will
find that the body of the worm is covered with fine hooks. If you run
your fingers along the worm in the other direction, you will think the
body perfectly smooth. This is because all the hooks point in the other
direction.
"When the worm wishes to enter the earth, it pushes its blunt head
through the soil, lengthening its body by means of the muscles that
hold together the soft, cartilage-like rings. At first only a few rings
go into the ground. Master Worm then draws up his body into a thick
roll by shortening his muscles. In this way he forces apart the soft
earth to make room for his body, the points on the sides holding it
there while he again lengthens his head, pushing more earth apart. It
is in this way, by alternately or in turn lengthening or shortening his
body that he makes his way through the earth, which is pushed aside to
give him passage through its dark depths.
"As his home is underground, eyes would not be of much use to him, so
Mother Nature, whose children we all are, has given him none. One of
her laws is that none of us shall have what we cannot or do not make
use of. He has a strong mouth, however. It is placed on the second ring
of the body. His food is earth, which he swallows to obtain the organic
particles contained in it. This makes him especially interesting, for
nearly all animals obtain their food from the soil quite indirectly.
Some get it from plants, the plants themselves having gathered theirs
from the earth through their roots. Certain animals depend on other
creatures, which in turn get food from the plants.
"The life-giving particles which go to build up all bodies come
directly or indirectly from the earth itself. It seems odd that a man
who is starving, no matter where he may be, starves with the very food
which he needs directly beneath his feet, only he does not know, nor
has the wisest man yet learned, how to convert it into food which will
directly sustain and give health to the body. Yet the little earthworm,
which you despise as stupid, has this wonderful secret, which day by
day it puts into operation for its own benefit. Worms also eat leaves,
which sometimes they drag into their homes.
"The worm has no feet as we understand them, but moves along the ground
by sticking its sharp claws into the ground and by in turn lengthening
and shortening its flexible body.
"The young worms grow from eggs, which are deposited in the earth in
the autumn. They have to look out for themselves. During the winter
they burrow deep into the ground, coming to the surface with the warm
rains of spring. Worms also come to the earth's surface at night. If
you look carefully in the garden with a lantern some evening, you may
see them."
Charley was looking at his bait box with a good deal of respect.
"I guess I'll let the worms have another chance," he said, and he
dumped them in a heap upon the ground, when, I regret to say, two
hungry robins promptly pounced upon them and flew jubilantly home with
two of the fattest in their beaks for a meal.
The stranger smiled kindly upon Charley.
"Never mind, my boy. Old Dame Nature meant the worms for food for the
robins and perhaps bait for your hook when you really need fish for
food, but she never meant any of us to needlessly harm any living
creature, for when you are older and have learned to read well in her
great story book you will find that after all, from earthworms to
kings, we are only brothers and sisters in wise old Mother Nature's
great family.
"I once knew a little boy like you who used to salute every living
creature he met with 'Good morning' or 'Good afternoon' or 'Good
evening.' He said it made him feel more friendly toward them. In his
spare moments he loved to watch the woodland creatures and learn the
secrets of their busy, useful lives."
"Where does he live?" asked Charley.
"Well, when he is not rambling over the earth hunting for curious
insects he lives in a big city, where he sometimes writes books about
butterflies and moths and other insects, and people, who as a rule
know very little about the humbler children of nature's family, give
him credit for being a rather wise man; but he really knows very
little--there is so much to learn. Some day, when you are a man, if
you keep your eyes open to what goes on around you, you yourself may
know how little. That boy is a man now and takes great pleasure in
having introduced you to Master Chætopoda, one of the humblest but most
interesting members of Mother Nature's household."
And then Charley smiled, for he knew the stranger was talking about
himself.--_Success._