BIRDS AND ALL NATURE.
ILLUSTRATED BY COLOR PHOTOGRAPHY.
VOL. V. MAY, 1899. NO. 5.
CONTENTS.
Page
THE CEDAR WAXWING. 193
THE PREACHER-BIRD. 194
COFFEE. 197
AN ABANDONED HOME. 198
THE CONY. 203
COFFEE. 204
THE TWO ACORNS. 210
A DEFENSE OF SOME BIRDS. 211
MARCH AND MAY. 212
BONAPARTE'S GULL. 215
EGG COLLECTING. 216
THE BABOON. 217
THE SUMMER POOL. 218
THE FEATHER CRUSADE. 221
GOD'S SILENCE AND HIS VOICES ALSO. 222
THE OWLS' SANCTUARY. 223
THE WATER THRUSH. 227
THE TARSIER. 228
THE TRAILING ARBUTUS. 229
THE HAIRY-TAILED MOLE. 230
TREES. 233
THE CINERARIA. 236
INDEX VOL. V.
INDEX VOLS. I., II., III., IV., V. i
[Illustration: FROM COL. F. M. WOODRUFF.
5-99
CEDAR WAXWING.
5/7 Life-size.
COPYRIGHT 1899,
NATURE STUDY PUB. CO., CHICAGO.]
THE CEDAR WAXWING.
(_Ampelis cedrorum._)
LYNDS JONES.
There is no more beautiful bird in our northern states, if there be in
the whole country, than our waxwing. Many birds are more gorgeously
appareled, and with many there are more striking contrasts exhibited,
but nowhere do we encounter a texture more delicate covering a bearing
more courtly. One despairs of adequately describing the silky softness
of the plumage and the beautiful shades of color. But the perfecting
of color photography has made that task unnecessary. We may wonder
why some crested birds have this regal insignia bestowed upon them by
nature, but it would be impossible to think of the waxwing without
his crowning glory. Not less characteristic are the horny appendages
resembling red sealing wax attached to the secondary wing feathers and
sometimes also to the tail feathers. They seem to be outgrowths of the
tip of the shaft. These, with the yellow-tipped tail, form the only
bright colors in the plumage.
The cedar waxwings are gregarious, except during the breeding-season,
wandering about the country in flocks of a dozen individuals, more or
less, stopping for any considerable time only where food is plentiful.
Their wandering propensities make their presence a very uncertain
quantity at any season of the year. During the whole of 1898 they were
present in considerable numbers at Oberlin, Ohio, nesting in orchards
and shade trees plentifully, but thus far in 1899 very few have been
seen. No doubt their presence is not suspected even when they may be
numerous, because they do not herald their appearance with a loud
voice nor with whistling wing. Their voice accords perfectly with
their attire, their manners are quiet and unassuming, and their flight
is well-nigh noiseless. One moment the flock is vaulting through the
air in short bounds, the next its members are perched in a treetop
with erected crests at attention. If all is quiet without cause for
suspicion, the flock begins feeding upon the insect pests, if they are
in season; upon the fruit, if that is in season. So compact is the
flock, both in flight and while resting, that nearly every member might
be taken at a single shot. The birds are so unsuspicious that they can
easily be approached, thus presenting a tempting prize to the small
hunter who may design the beautiful plumage for some hat decoration.
In common with the goldfinch, the waxwings are late breeders, making
their nests in June, July, and August. They seem to prefer rather
small trees and low ones, nesting in orchard trees and in ornamental
shrubbery as well as in shade trees. The nest is not usually an
elaborate affair, but rather loosely made of twigs, grass, rootlets,
and leaves, often lined with grape-vine bark, thus hinting that the
species has sprung from an original tropical stock, which necessarily
makes its nest as cool and airy as practicable. The eggs are unique
among the smaller ones, in their steely bluish-gray ground, rather
evenly overlaid with dots and scratches of dark brown or black, thus
presenting an aggressiveness out of all harmony with the birds. But
the peculiar colors and pattern aid greatly in rendering the eggs
inconspicuous in the nest, as anyone may prove by noticing them as
they lie on their bed of rootlets or leaves. They are usually four in
number in this locality, but may vary somewhat according to the season
and individual characteristics.
The food of the waxwing is varied both according to season and other
conditions. Wild fruit, berries, and seeds form much of their food
during the fall and winter months. Mr. A. W. Butler states that,
"in winter nothing attracts them so much as the hack-berry (_Celtis
occidentalis_). Some years, early in spring, they are found living
upon red buds." The investigations of the food of this species by
Professor F. E. L. Beal prove that the greater share of it consists of
wild fruit or seeds with a very small allowance of cultivated fruits.
Animal matter forms a relatively small proportion of the food, but this
small proportion by no means indicates the insect-feeding habits of the
birds. It might well be suspected that so varied a diet would enable
the birds to accommodate themselves to almost any conditions, largely
feeding upon the food which happens to be the most abundant at the
time. Thus, an outbreak of any insect pest calls the waxwings in large
flocks which destroy great numbers to the almost entire exclusion of
fruit as a diet for the time. It cannot be denied that the waxwings
do sometimes destroy not a little early fruit, calling down upon them
righteous indignation; but at other times they more than make amends
for the mischief done.
Of the voice Mr. A. W. Butler says, "They have a peculiar lisping note,
uttered in a monotone varying in pitch. As they sit among the branches
of an early Richmond cherry tree in early June, the note seems to be
inhaled, and reminds me of a small boy who, when eating juicy fruit,
makes a noise by inhalation in endeavoring to prevent the loss of the
juice and then exclaims, 'How good!' As the birds start to fly, each
repeats the note three or four times. These notes develop into a song
as the summer comes on; a lisping, peculiar song that tells that the
flocks are resolving into pairs as the duties of the season press upon
them." After the pairing season there is a great show of affection
between the two birds, which often continues long after the nesting
season has closed.
THE PREACHER-BIRD.
(Red-eyed Vireo.)
JENNY TERRILL RUPRECHT.
Listen near a grove of elms or maples and you will not fail to hear
its song, a some what broken, rambling recitative, which no one has so
well described as Wilson Flagg, who calls this bird the preacher, and
interprets its notes as "_You see it! You know it! Do you hear me? Do
you believe it?_"--_Chapman's Bird-Life._
Apostle of the grove across the way,
Surpliced in color of the foliage,
I list enchanted to thy sermon-lay,
As if it were the wisdom of a sage;
"_You see it! You know it! Do you hear me? Do you believe it?_"
Ah! thou wouldst quicken memory to-day.
Nor morning's chill, nor noon-tide's languorous heat,
Doth hold thy voice in thrall, O, preacher fair;
Perched on the greenest bough, thy message sweet
Thou pourest out upon the vibrant air,
"_You see it! You know it! Do you hear me? Do you believe it?_"
Over and over in a swift repeat.
Apostle of the grove! Thy song divine
The God of Nature gave thee note by note,
To gladder, fuller make the message thine,
Rippling in beauty from thy dainty throat.
"_You see it! You know it! Do you hear me? Do you believe it?_"
Would that apostleship so sweet were mine!
COFFEE.
ANNA R. HENDERSON.
Coffee is a native of Abyssinia, being first used by the natives of the
district called Kaffa, whence its name. It is still found wild in parts
of Africa.
It was introduced into Arabia in the fifteenth century, and is so well
suited to that soil and climate that the Mocha coffee has never been
excelled. It became so popular that in 1638 the Mohammedan priests
issued an edict against it, as the faithful frequented the coffee shops
more than the mosques.
In 1638 the beverage was sold in Paris, but did not win favor for a
few years until it was introduced to the aristocracy by Soliman Aga,
the Ambassador of the Sublime Porte at the Court of Louis XIV. Coffee
sipping became fashionable, and before the middle of the seventeenth
century was the mode in all the capitals of Europe.
Cromwell ordered the closing of the coffee shops of England, but its
popularity did not wane.
In 1699 coffee was planted in Batavia and Java. In 1720 three coffee
shrubs were sent from the Jardin des Plantes in France to the Island of
Martinique.
The voyage was long, and water becoming scarce two of the plants
perished, but Captain Declieux shared his ration of water with the
other plant, and it lived to become the ancestor of all the coffee
groves in America.
On the coat of arms of Brazil which adorns every flag of that country
is a branch of coffee, a fit emblem, as Brazil produces three-fourths
of the coffee of the world. It was first planted there in 1754, and the
first cargo was shipped to the United States in 1809.
It can be grown from seeds or from slips. Shrubs begin bearing the
second or third year, and are profitable for fifteen years, some trees
continue bearing for twenty-five years.
They are planted six or eight feet apart, and not allowed to grow more
than twelve feet high; and are not pruned, so that the limbs bend
nearly to the ground. The long slender drooping branches bear dark
green, glossy leaves, directly opposite to each other. Between these
leaves bloom the flowers; clusters of five or six white star-shaped
blossoms, each an inch in diameter. These jessamine-like flowers touch
each other, forming a long snowy spray bordered with green. Nothing can
exceed the beauty of a coffee grove in bloom, and its fragrance makes
it a veritable Eden.
It is beautiful again when the berries are ripe. They resemble a large
cranberry, each berry containing two grains, the flat sides together.
The fruit is slightly sweet but not desirable. Three crops are gathered
in one year. I have in memory a coffee plantation in the mountains of
Brazil, where the pickers were African slaves. They made a picturesque
sight, picking into white sacks swung in front of them, occasionally
emptying the fruit into broad, flat baskets. Each man will pick more
than thirty pounds a day, and at sunset they wind down the mountain
paths with their broad baskets of red berries balanced on their heads.
The ripe fruit is put through a mill which removes the pulp. The wet
berries are then spread to dry in the sun on a floor of hardened earth,
brick or slate.
The coffee terrane in my memory was about eighty feet square, laid
with smooth slate, and slightly sloping. It had around it a moulding
of plaster with spaces of perforated zinc for the escape of water.
Orange and fig trees dropped their fruit over its border and it was an
ideal spot for a moonlight dance. The coffee house was near, and an
approaching cloud was a signal to gather the coffee in.
When dry the grains are put through a mill, or where primitive
methods prevail, pounded in a mortar to remove a thin brittle shell
which encloses each grain. The coffee is then put into sacks of five
_arrobas_, or 160 pounds each and carted to the warehouses of the city.
AN ABANDONED HOME.
BY ELANORA KINSLEY MARBLE.
"Say, was thy little mate unkind,
And heard thee as the careless wind?
Oh! nought but love and sorrow joined
Such notes of woe could waken."
CHAPTER II.
"Well, I'm glad to get over to this tree again out of the sound of
mother's voice. Duty to my husband; that's all she could talk about.
All wives help to build the home-nest," she says, "and indeed do the
most toward making it snug and comfortable, and that I must give up my
old pastimes and pleasures and settle down to housekeeping. Well, if I
must, I must, but oh! how I wish I had never got married."
Not a word was exchanged between the pair that night, and on the
following morning Mrs. B., with a disdainful toss of her head,
ironically announced her willingness to become a hod-carrier, a mason,
or a carpenter, according the desires of her lord.
They elected to build their nest in the maple-tree, and you can imagine
the bickerings of the pair as the house progressed. Mrs. B's. groans
and bemoaning over the effect, such "fetchings and carryings" would
have upon her health, already delicate. How often she was compelled
from weakness and fatigue to tuck her head under her wing and rest,
while Mr. B. carried on the work tireless and uncomplaining.
"She may change when she has the responsibility of a family," he mused,
"and perhaps become a helpmeet after all. I must not be too severe with
her, so young and thoughtless and inexperienced."
So the nest at length was completed.
"My!" said a sharp-eyed old lady bird, whose curiosity led her to take
a peep at the domicile one day while Mrs. B. was off visiting with
one of her neighbors, "such an uncomfortable, ragged looking nest; it
is not even domed as a nest should be when built in a tree. And then
the lining! If the babies escape drowning in the first down-pour, I
am sure they'll be crippled for life, if not hung outright, when they
attempt to leave the nest. You know how dangerous it is when they get
their feet entangled in the rag ravelings and coils of string, and if
you'll believe me that shiftless Jenny has just laid a lot of it around
the edges of the nest without ever tucking it in. The way girls are
brought up now-a-days! Accomplishments indeed! I think," with a sniff,
"if she had been taught something about housekeeping instead of how to
arrange her feathers prettily, to dance and sing, and fly in graceful
circles it would have been much better for poor Mr. B. Poor fellow, how
I do pity him," and off the old lady flew to talk it over with another
neighbor.
Unlike some young wives of the sparrow family, Mrs. B. did not sit on
the first almost spotless white egg which she deposited in the nest,
but waited till four others, prettily spotted with brown, and black,
and lavender lay beside it.
"Whine, whine from morning till night!" cried her exasperated spouse
after brooding had begun. "Sitting still so much, you say, doesn't
agree with you. Your beauty is departing! You are growing thin and
careworn! The little outings you take are only tantalizing. I am sure
most wives wouldn't consider it a hardship to sit still and be fed
with the delicious grubs and dainty tidbits which I go to such pains
to fetch for you. That was a particularly fine grub I brought you this
morning, and you ate it without one word of thanks, or even a look of
gratitude. Nothing but complaints and tears! It is enough to drive any
husband mad. I fly away in the morning with a heavy heart, and when I
see and hear other sparrows hopping and singing cheerfully about their
nests, receiving chirps of encouragement and love from their sitting
mates in return, I feel as though--as though I would rather die than be
compelled to return to my unhappy home again."
"Oh, you do?" sarcastically rejoined Mrs. B. "That is of a piece with
the rest of your selfishness, Mr. Britisher, I am sure. Die and leave
me, the partner of your bosom, to struggle through the brooding season
and afterward bring up our large family the best I may. Oh," breaking
into tears, "I wish I had never seen you, I really do."
"Oh, yes, that has been the burden of your song for days, Mrs. B. I'm
sure I have no reason to bless the hour I first laid eyes on you. Why,
as the saying goes, Mrs. B., you threw yourself at my head at our very
first meeting. And your precious mamma! How she did chirp about her
darling Jenny's accomplishments and sweet amiability. Bah, what a ninny
I was, to be sure! Oh, you needn't shriek and pluck the feathers from
your head. Truth burns sometimes, I know, and--oh you are going to
faint. Well faint!" and with an exclamation more forcible than polite
Mr. B. flew away out of sight and sound of his weeping spouse.
Wearily and sadly did Mrs. B. gaze out of her humble home upon
darkening nature that evening. Many hours had passed since the flight
of Mr. B., and the promptings of hunger, if nothing else, caused her to
gaze about, wistfully hoping for his return. The calls of other birds
to their mates filled the air, and lent an additional mournfulness to
her lonely situation.
"How glad I shall be to see him," she thought, her heart warming toward
him in his absence. "I'll be cheerful and pretend to be contented after
this, for I should be very miserable without him. I have been very
foolish, and given him cause for all the harsh things he has said,
perhaps. Oh, I _do_ wish he would come."
Night came down, dark and lonely. The voices and whirrings of her
neighbors' wings had long since given place to stillness as one after
another retired for the night. The wind swayed the branches of the tree
in which she nested, their groanings and the sharp responses of the
leaves filling the watcher's mind with gloomy forebodings.
"I am so frightened," she murmured, "there is surely going to be a
storm. Oh, I wish I had listened to Mr. B. and not insisted upon
building our home in the crotch of this tree. He said it was not wise,
and that we would be much safer and snugger under the eaves or in a
hole in the wall or tree. But, no, I said, if I was compelled to stay
at home every day and sit upon the nest it should be situated where I
could look out and see my neighbors as they flew about. That was the
reason I was determined it should not be domed. I wanted to see and be
seen. Oh, how foolish I have been! What shall I do? What shall I do? I
am afraid to leave the nest even for a minute for fear the eggs will
get cold. Mr. B. would never forgive me, then, I am sure. But to stay
out here in the storm, all alone. Oh, I shall die, I know I shall."
Morning broke with all nature, after the rain, smiling and refreshed.
Sleep had not visited the eyelids of the forsaken wife and with heavy
eyes and throbbing brain, she viewed the rising dawn.
"Alas," she sighed, as the whirr of wings and happy chirps of her
neighbors struck upon her ears, "how can people be joyous when aching
hearts and lives broken with misery lie at their very thresholds?
The songs and gleeful voices of my neighbors fill me with anger and
despair. I hate the world and everybody in it. I am cold and wet and
hungry. I even hate the sun that has risen to usher in a new day.
"I must make an effort," she murmured as the morning advanced and Mr.
B. did not return, "and get home to mother. I am so weak I can scarcely
stand, much less fly. I am burning with fever, and oh, how my head
throbs! Such trouble and sorrow for one so young! I feel as though I
shall never smile again."
She steadied herself upon the edge of the nest and, turning, gazed
wistfully and sadly upon the five tiny eggs, which she now sorrowed to
abandon.
"I may return," she sighed, "in time to lend them warmth, or may find
my dear mate performing that office in my absence. I will pray that it
may be so as I fly. Praises would be mockery from my throat to-day,
mockery!"
* * * * *
"Why, Jenny!" shrieked her mother as Mrs. B. sank down exhausted upon
the threshold of her old home. "Whatever _is_ the matter with you, and
what has brought you here this time of day?"
"I am hungry and sick, mother, and I feel as though, as though--I am
going to die!"
"And where is Mr. Britisher? You've no business to be hungry with a
husband to care for you," tartly replied her mother, whilst bustling
about to find a grub or two to supply her daughter's wants.
"I have no husband, I fear, mother. He is--"
"Dead!" shrieked the old lady. "Don't tell me Mr. Britisher is dead!"
"Dead, or worse," sadly replied her daughter.
"Worse? Heaven defend us! You don't mean he has deserted you?"
"He left me yesterday afternoon in anger, and has not returned."
"Highty, tighty, that's it, is it? Well, you have brought it all upon
yourself and will have to suffer for it. I am sure your father talked
enough about idleness and vanity for you to have heeded, and time and
time again I have told you that every husband in the sparrow family is
a bully and a tyrant, and every wife, if she expects to live happily,
must let her mate have his own way."
Mrs. B. sighed, and wearily dropped her head upon her breast.
"You must go back," emphatically said her mother, "before the
neighborhood gets wind of the affair. Mr. Britisher may be home this
very minute, and glad enough he will be to see you, I am sure. So go
back, dear, before the eggs grow cold and your neighbors will be none
the wiser."
"I am going, mother, but oh, I feel so ill, so ill!" said the bereaved
little creature as she wearily poised for her flight.
"She does look weakly and sick, poor thing," said the mother with a
sigh watching her out of sight, "but I don't believe in interfering
between husband and wife. Mr. Britisher, indeed, gave me to understand
from the first that the less he saw of his mother-in-law the better,
remarking that if that class would only stay at home and manage their
own household affairs fewer couples, he thought, would be parted. I
considered that a rather broad hint, and in consequence have never
visited them since they began housekeeping. He has only gone off in a
huff, of course, and everything will come out all right, I am sure."
Ere nightfall, however, motherly anxiety impelled her to fly over to
her daughter's home.
Alas, only desolation and ruin were there. At the foot of the tree lay
the form of Mrs. B. Exposure, sorrow, and excitement had done their
work. It was a lifeless form which met her tearful gaze.
The fate of Mr. Britisher was never known. Rumor assigned his absence
to matrimonial infelicity, but his more charitable neighbors, as they
dropped a tear to his memory, pictured his mangled form a victim to the
wanton cruelty or mischievous sport of some idle boy.
A gentleman passing by one day saw the dismantled nest upon the ground
and carelessly stirred it with his cane.
"What is that, uncle?" queried a little maid of some five summers who
walked by his side.
"That, little one," came the answer slowly and impressively, "is an
abandoned home."
"An abandoned home," I repeated, as his words floated up to my window.
"Aye, truly to the casual observer that is all it seems, but, oh, how
little do they dream of the folly, the suffering, the sad, almost
tragic ending of the wee feathered couple whom I saw build that humble
home."
[Illustration: FROM COL. CHI. ACAD. SCIENCES.
5-99
HYRAX.
3/4 Life-size.
COPYRIGHT 1899,
NATURE STUDY PUB. CO., CHICAGO.]
THE CONY.
C. C. M.
The specimen of this animal presented here (_Hyrax abyssinicus_) is
the best-known of the species. It measures from ten to twelve inches
in length; the fur consists of somewhat long, fine hairs, gray-brown
at the base, lighter gray in the middle portions, merging into a
dark-brown surmounted by a light-colored tip, the resulting general
color of this combination being a mottled pale-gray.
The Book of Proverbs, enumerating four animals which it describes as
"exceeding wise," says: "The conies are but a feeble folk, yet they
make their houses in the rocks." The conies are mentioned by various
writers as well-known animals in days of remotest antiquity. They are
found in the wild, desolate mountain regions of Africa and western
Asia, and the variety inhabiting Syria and Palestine is probably
referred to in the Hebrew text of the Bible under the name of "laphan,"
which Luther translated by the word, "rabbit," and in the authorized
and revised versions is rendered "cony." They inhabit all the mountains
of Syria, Palestine, and Arabia, perhaps also of Persia, the Nile
country, east, west, and south Africa, frequently at elevations of six
thousand or nine thousand feet above sea-level, and "the peaks and
cones that rise like islands sheer above the surface of the plains--the
presence of the little animals constituting one of the characteristic
features of the high table-lands of northeastern Africa." It is stated
that if the observer quietly passes through the valleys he sees them
sitting or lying in rows on the projecting ledges, as they are a lazy,
comfort-loving tribe and like to bask in the warm sunshine. A rapid
movement or unusual noise quickly stampedes them, and they all flee
with an agility like that usual among rodents, and almost instantly
disappear. A traveler says of them, that in the neighborhood of
villages, where they are also to be found, they show little fear of
the natives, and boldly attend to their affairs as if they understood
that nobody thinks of molesting them; but when approached by people
whose color or attire differs from that of their usual human neighbors,
they at once retreat to their holes in the rocks. A dog inspires them
with greater fear than does a human being. When startled by a canine
foe, even after they have become hidden, safe from pursuit, in their
rocky crevices, they continue to give utterance to their curious,
tremulous yell, which resembles the cry of small monkeys.
Brehm confirms the statement of another traveler, who called attention
to the striking fact that the peaceable and defenseless cony lives
in the permanent society and on the best of terms with a by no means
despicable beast of prey, a variety of mongoose.
In regard to their movements and mental characteristics, the conies
have been placed between the unwieldy rhinoceros and the nimble rodent.
They are excellent climbers. The soles of the feet are as elastic and
springy as rubber, enabling the animal to contract and distend the
middle cleft or fissure of its sole-pad at will, and thereby to secure
a hold on a smooth surface by means of suction. In behavior the conies
are gentle, simple, and timid. The social instinct is highly developed
in them, and they are rarely seen alone.
The conies have been regarded as the smallest and daintiest of all
the existing species of odd-toed animals. Naturalists, however, have
held widely divergent opinions as to the classification of the pretty
cliff-dwellers. Pallas, because of their habits and outward appearance,
called them rodents. Oken thought them to be related to the marsupials,
or pouched animals. Cuvier placed them in his order of "many-toed
animals," which classification has also been disputed, and Huxley has
raised them to the dignity of representatives of a distinct order. Who
shall decide where all pretend to know?
COFFEE.
(_Coffea Arabica L._)
DR. ALBERT SCHNEIDER,
Northwestern University School of Pharmacy.
"Directly after coffee the band began to play."
--_Greville, Memoirs, June 5, 1831._
Coffee is the seed of a small evergreen tree or shrub ranging from 15
to 25 feet in height. The branches are spreading or even pendant with
opposite short petioled leaves, which are ovate, smooth, leathery, and
dark green. The flowers are perfect, fragrant, occurring in groups of
from three to seven in the axils of the leaves. The corolla is white,
the calyx green and small. The ovary is green at first, changing to
yellowish, and finally to deep red or purple at maturity. Each ovary
has two seeds, the so-called coffee beans.
The coffee tree is a native of the tropical parts of Africa, in
Abyssinia and the interior. The Arabians were among the first to
transport it to their native country for the purposes of cultivation.
From Arabia it was soon transplanted to other tropical countries.
The name coffee (_Kaffee_, Ger., _Cafféier_, Fr.) was supposed to have
been derived from the Arabian word _Kahwah_ or _Cahuah_, which referred
to the drink made from the coffee beans as well as to wines. It is now
generally believed that the word was derived from Kaffa, a country of
the Abyssinian highlands where the plant grows wild very abundantly.
From Kaffa the coffee plant found its way into Persia about the year
875, and still later into Turkey. According to popular belief, the
drink coffee was the invention of the Sheik Omar in 1258. Others
maintain that the drink was not known until even a later period. The
mufti, Gemal Eddin of Aden, made a trip to Persia in 1500, where he
learned the use of coffee as a drink, and introduced it into his own
country for the special purpose of supplying it to the dervishes
to make them more enduring in their prayers and supplications. In
1511 coffee had already become a popular drink in Mecca. About this
time Chair Beg, the governor of Mecca, issued an edict proclaiming
coffee-drinking injurious and making the use of coffee a crime against
the laws of the Koran. It was prophesied that on the day of judgment
the faces of coffee drinkers would be blacker than the pot in which
the coffee was made. As a result of this crusade the coffee houses
were closed; the coffee plantations were destroyed, and offenders were
treated to the bastinade or a reversed ride on a donkey. The next
governor of Mecca again opened the coffee houses, and in 1534 Sultan
Soliman opened the first coffee houses in Constantinople, which were,
however, again closed by Sultan Murad II., but not for long. In 1624
Venetian merchants brought large quantities of coffee into northern
Italy. In 1632 there were 1,000 public coffee houses in Cairo. In 1645
coffee-drinking had already become very common in southern Italy. A
Greek named Pasqua erected the first coffee house in London (1652).
Coffee houses appeared in other cities in about the following order:
Marseilles, 1671; Paris, 1672; Vienna, 1683; Nürnberg and Regensburg,
1686; Hamburg, 1687; Stuttgart, 1712; Berlin, 1721. In 1674 the ladies
of London petitioned the government to suppress the coffee houses. To
discourage the use of coffee it was maintained that the drink was made
from tar, soot, blood of Turks, old shoes, old boots, etc.
These coffee houses were of great significance, as may be gathered
from the rapidity with which they spread and the general favor with
which they were received. They were visited, not so much on account
of the drink that was dispensed there, but rather for the purpose
of discussing political situations; they constituted the favorite
meeting-places for anarchists, revolutionaries, and high-class
criminals. At times it even became necessary to close them entirely in
order to check or suppress political intrigues or plottings against the
government. At the present time the saloons take the place of coffee
houses in most countries, and many of them are still the hotbeds of
anarchy and crime. In Turkey, where alcoholic drinks are prohibited,
coffee houses have full swing.
The Dutch again seemed to have been the first to attempt the
cultivation of the coffee plant. In 1650 they succeeded in
transplanting a few trees from Mecca to Batavia. From 1680 to 1690
the island already had large plantations; others were soon started in
Ceylon, Surinam, and the Sunda islands. About 1713 Captain Desclieux
carried some plants to the French possessions of the West Indies
(Martinique). It is reported that only a single plant reached its
destination alive, which is the ancestor of the coffee trees of the
enormous plantations of the West Indies and South America.
The plant thrives best in a loamy soil in an average annual temperature
of about 27 degrees C., with considerable moisture and shade. Most
plantations are at an elevation of 1,000 feet to 2,500 above the
sea-level. In order to insure larger yields and to make gathering
easier the trees of the South American plantations are clipped so as to
keep their height at about 6 feet to 6.5 feet. The yield begins with
the third year and continues increasingly up to the twentieth year. The
fruit matures at all seasons, and is gathered about three times each
year. In Arabia, where the trees are usually not clipped, and hence
comparatively large, the fruit is knocked off by means of sticks. In
the West Indies and South America the red, not fully matured fruit is
picked by hand. The outer hard shell (fruit coat, pericarp) is removed
by pressure, rolling, and shaking. The beans are now ready for the
market.
All of the different varieties or kinds of coffee found upon the
market are from two species of _Coffea_; namely, _C. Arabica_ and
_C. Liberica_; the latter yielding the Liberian coffee, which is of
excellent quality.
There are a number of so-called coffees which are used as substitutes
for true coffee, of which the following are the more important.
California coffee is the somewhat coffee-like fruit of _Rhamnus
Californica_. Crust coffee is a drink resembling coffee in color, made
from roasted bread crusts steeped in water. Mogdad or Negro coffee
is the roasted seeds of _Cassia occidentalis_, which are used as a
substitute for coffee, though they contain no caffeine. Swedish coffee
is the seeds of _Astragalus Boeticus_ used as coffee, for which purpose
it is cultivated in parts of Germany and Hungary. Wild coffee is a name
given to several plants native in India, as _Faramea odoratissima_,
_Eugenia disticha_, and _Casearia laetioides_. Kentucky coffee is a
large leguminous tree (_Gymnocladus Canadensis_) of which the seeds
(coffee nut) are used as a substitute for coffee.
The coffee beans are roasted before they are in suitable condition
for use. At first the green beans were used. According to one story,
a shepherd noticed that some of his sheep ate the fruit of the
coffee tree, and, as a result, became very frisky. Presuming that
the coffee beans were the cause, he also ate of the beans and noted
an exhilarating effect. The use of the roasted beans was said to
have originated in Holland. Roasting should be done carefully in a
closed vessel in order to retain as much of the aroma as possible.
This process modifies the beans very much; they change from green or
greenish to brown and dark brown and become brittle; they lose about
15 to 30 per cent. of their weight, at the same time increasing in
size from 30 to 50 per cent. The aroma is almost wholly produced by
the roasting process, but if continued too long or done at too high
a temperature the aroma is again lost. The temperature should be
uniform and the beans should be stirred continually. It should also be
remembered that not all kinds or grades of coffee should be roasted
alike. In order to develop the highest aroma, Mocha coffee should be
roasted until it becomes a reddish yellow, and has lost 15 per cent of
its weight. Martinique coffee should be roasted to a chestnut brown,
with a loss of 20 percent in weight; Bourbon to a light bronze and a
loss in weight of 18 percent.
The various coffee drinks prepared differ very widely in quality. This
is dependent upon the varying methods employed in making them. The
following method is highly recommended. It is advised to purchase a
good quality of the unroasted beans and proceed as follows:
1. _Sorting Berries._--Carefully remove bad berries, dirt, husks,
stones, and other foreign matter usually present in larger or smaller
quantities.
2. _Roasting._--Roast as indicated above. Coat the hot beans with sugar
to retain the aromatic principles; cool rapidly and keep in a dry place.
3. _Grinding._--Grind fine just before the coffee is to be made.
4. _Preparing the Coffee._--Coffee is usually made according to three
methods; by infiltration, by infusion, and by boiling. Coffee by
infiltration is made by allowing boiling water to percolate through
the ground coffee. It is stated that much of the aroma is lost by this
method. In the second process boiling water is poured upon the ground
coffee and allowed to stand for some time. This gives a highly aromatic
but comparatively weak coffee. In the third process the coffee is
boiled for about five or ten minutes. This gives a strong coffee, but
much of the aroma is lost. Since these methods do not give an ideal
coffee an eminent authority recommends a fourth, as follows: For three
small cups of coffee take one ounce of finely ground coffee. Place
three-fourths of this in the pot of boiling water and boil for five or
ten minutes; then throw in the remaining one-fourth and remove from the
fire at once, stirring for one minute. The first portion of the coffee
gives strength, the second the flavor. It is not advisable to filter
the coffee as it is apt to modify the aroma. Allow it to stand until
the grounds have settled.
Coffee is very frequently adulterated, especially ground coffee. It
is stated that the beans have been adulterated with artificial beans
made of starch or of clay. It is not uncommon to find pebbles which
have been added to increase the weight. Most commonly the beans are
not carefully hulled and sorted so that a considerable percentage of
spoiled beans and hulls are present. The coffee plant seems to be
quite susceptible to the attacks of various pests. The coffee blight
is a microscopic fungus (_Hemileia vastatrix_) very common in Ceylon
which has on several occasions almost entirely destroyed the coffee
plantations. The coffee borer is the larva of a coleopter (_Xylotrechus
quadripes_) which injures and destroys the trees by boring into
the wood. The pest is most abundant in India, while another borer
(_Areocerus coffeæ_) is common in South Africa. Another destructive
pest is the so-called coffee bug (_Lecanium coffeæ_).
Ground coffee is adulterated with a great variety of substances. The
roasted and ground roots of chicory (_Cichorium intybus_), carrot
(_Daucus carota_), beet (_Beta vulgaris_), are very much used. The rush
nut (_Cyperus esculentus_), and peanut are also used. A large number of
seeds are used for adulterating purposes, as corn, barley, oats, wheat,
rye, and other cereals; further, yellow flag, gray pea, milk vetch,
astragalus, hibiscus, holly, Spanish broom, acorns, chestnuts, lupin,
peas, haricots, horse bean, sun flower, seeds of gooseberry and grape.
The seeds of _Cassia occidentalis_ known as "wild coffee" are used as a
substitute for coffee in Dominica and are said to have a flavor equal
to that of true coffee. Sacca or Sultan coffee consists of the husks
of the coffee berry, usually mixed with coffee and said to improve its
flavor. In Sumatra an infusion is made of the coffee leaves or the
young twigs and leaves. This is said to produce a refreshing drink
having the taste and aroma of a mixture of coffee and tea. Efforts have
been made, especially in England, to introduce leaf coffee with but
little success.
[Illustration: FROM KOEHLER'S MEDICINAL-PFLANZEN.
5-99
COFFEE.]
DESCRIPTION OF PLATE.
_A_, twig with flowers and immature fruit, about natural size; 1,
Corolla; 2, Stamens; 3, Style and stigma (pistil); 4, Ovary in
longitudinal section; 5 and 6, Coffee bean in dorsal and ventral
view; 7, Fruit in longitudinal section; 8, Bean in transverse
section; 9, Bean sectioned to show caulicle; 10, Caulicle.
As already stated, most of the many varieties of coffee upon the market
are obtained from one species, and are usually classified according to
the countries from which they are shipped. The following are the most
important varieties:
_I. African, or Ethiopian Coffee._
1. Abyssinia.
2. Galla.
3. Kaffa.
_II. Arabian, Levant, or Mocha Coffee._
1. Bohuri.
2. Sakki.
3. Salabi.
_III. Dutch Indian Coffee._
1. Java.
2. Batavia.
3. Tscheribon.
4. Samarang.
5. Menado of the Celebes.
6. Dadep of the Celebes.
7. Sumatra.
_IV. American Indian Coffee._
1. Manila.
2. Cavita.
3. Laguna.
4. Batanges.
5. Mindanao.
_V. French Indian, or Bourbon Coffee._
_VI. English Indian Coffee._
1. Nilgeri.
2. Madras.
3. Ceylon.
_a._ Native.
_b._ Plantation.
_VII. West Indian and Central American
Coffee._
1. Cuba (Havana, Santiago.)
2. Jamaica.
3. Santa Lucia.
4. Trinidad.
5. Domingo.
6. Porto Rico.
7. Martinique.
8. Guadelupe.
9. Dominica.
10. Granada.
11. Costa Rica.
12. Guatemala, Nicaragua, Salvador.
_VIII. South American Coffee._
1. Surinam.
2. Berbice, Demerara.
3. Venezuela, La Guayra, Caracas.
4. Puerto Cabello, or Coast Porto Rico.
5. Brazil.
Coffee owes its stimulating properties to an alkaloid caffeine which
occurs in the beans as well as in other parts of the plant. Caffeine
also occurs in other plants; it is the active principle in Guarana and
is perhaps identical with theine, the active principle of tea. It is
generally believed that moderate coffee-drinking is beneficial rather
than otherwise. It has ever been the favorite drink of those actively
engaged in intellectual work. It has been tested and found satisfactory
as a stimulant for soldiers on long or forced marches. Injurious
effects are due to excessively strong coffee, or a long-continued use
of coffee which has been standing for some time and which contains
considerable tannin. Caffeine has been found very useful in hemicrania
and various nervous affections. It has also been recommended in
dropsy due to heart lesion. Strong, black coffee is very valuable in
counteracting poisoning by opium and its derivatives. Coffee will
also check vomiting. Strong coffee is apt to develop various nervous
troubles, as palpitation of the heart, sleeplessness, indigestion,
trembling. According to one authority, it is the aromatic principle of
coffee which causes sleeplessness.
THE TWO ACORNS.
DR. CHARLES MACKAY.
In ancient time, two acorns, in their cups,
Shaken by winds and ripeness from the tree,
Dropped side by side into the ferns and grass;
"Where have I fallen--to what base region come?"
Exclaimed the one. "The joyous breeze no more
Rocks me to slumber on the sheltering bough;
The sunlight streams no longer on my face;
I look no more from altitudes serene
Upon the world reposing far below--
Its plains, its hills, its rivers, and its woods.
To me the nightingale sings hymns no more;
But I am made companion of the worm,
And rot on the chill earth. Around me grow
Nothing but useless weeds, and grass, and fern,
Unfit to hold companionship with me.
Ah, me! most wretched! rain and frost and dew
And all the pangs and penalties of earth
Corrupt me where I lie--degenerate."
And thus the acorn made its daily moan.
The other raised no murmur of complaint
And looked with no contempt upon the grass
Nor called the branching fern a worthless weed
Nor scorned the woodland flowers that round it blew.
All silently and piously it lay
Upon the kindly bosom of the earth.
It blessed the warmth with which the noonday sun
Made fruitful all the ground; it loved the dews,
The moonlight and the snow, the frost and rain
And all the change of seasons as they passed.
It sank into the bosom of the soil.
The bursting life, enclosed within its husk,
Broke through its fetters; it extended roots
And twined them freely in the grateful ground;
It sprouted up and looked upon the light;
The sunshine fed it; the embracing air
Endowed it with vitality and strength;
The rains of heaven supplied it nourishment.
And so from month to month, and year to year,
It grew in beauty and in usefulness,
Until its large circumference enclosed
Shelter for flocks and herds; until its boughs
Afforded homes for happy multitudes--
The dormouse and the chaffinch and the jay
And countless myriads of minuter life;
Until its bole, too vast for the embrace
Of human arms, stood, in the forest depths,
The model and glory of the wood.
Its sister acorn perished in its pride.
A DEFENSE OF SOME BIRDS.
ABBIE C. STRONG.
_To the Editor of Birds and All Nature:_
In the October number of BIRDS AND ALL NATURE was an article containing
a list of the enemies of song birds and ordering their banishment, if
one would enjoy the presence of the little songsters. Included in the
list were the blue jays. There was also an article entitled, "A new
Champion for the English Sparrow."
I always rejoice when someone comes forward in defense of the despised
class, finding them not wholly faulty. The same hand created all, and
surely each must be of some use. I feel like saying something in favor
of the blue jay. I am sure that all will acknowledge that the jay has
a handsome form and rare and beautiful plumage, which at least makes
him "a thing of beauty;" he may not be "a joy forever," but surely a
delight to the eye. Formerly my home was in northern Iowa, living many
years in one place in a town of about 6,000 inhabitants. Our lawn was
spacious for a town, filled with shrubbery and trees, both evergreen
and deciduous. We did not encourage cats, usually keeping dishes of
water here and there for the accommodation of the birds, and other
attractions which they seemed to appreciate, as numerous migratory
birds came each season, taking up their abode with us, to their evident
enjoyment and giving us much pleasure. The jays were always with us,
were petted and as they became friendly and tame, naturally we were
much attached to them. The limb of a tree growing very close to a back
veranda had been sawed off and a board nailed on the top forming a
table, where we daily laid crumbs and a number of jays as regularly
came after them. They were fond of meat and almost anything from the
table. I found the jay to be a provident bird; after satisfying his
appetite he safely buried the remainder of his food. I often noticed
them concealing acorns and other nuts in hollow places in the trees,
and noticed also that they were left till a stormy day which prevented
them from finding food elsewhere as usual. I saw one bury a bit of meat
under leaves near a dead flower twig; there came a rather deep fall
of snow that night, but the bird managed to find it the next day with
little difficulty and flew off with a cry of delight. The jay nested on
the grounds, but that did not seem to prevent other birds from coming
in great numbers and variety and making their little homes there also.
I recall one year which was but a repetition of most of the years. The
jays had a nest in a crab apple tree, a cat bird nested in a vine close
to the house, a robin came familiarly to one of the veranda pillars
in front of the house and built her solid nest of mud and grass. A
brown thrush took a dense spruce for her nesting-place. A blackbird,
to my surprise, built a nest in a fir tree. A grosbeak built a nest on
a swaying branch of a willow at the back of the lot, and a bluebird
occupied a little house we had put in a walnut tree for her convenience.
The orioles were always in evidence, usually making their appearance
in early May when the fruit trees were in bloom; first seen busily
looking the trees over for insects. Generally they selected an
outreaching branch of a cottonwood tree, often near where they could
be watched from a veranda, building their graceful nests and caring
for their little ones. The chattering little wrens never questioned
our friendliness, but always built loose little nests quite within our
reach, either in a box we provided for them or over the door; at the
same time others had their little homes in cozy places in the barn, or
in the loose bark of an old tree. Each bird attended to its own affairs
without perceptible molestation from others, as a rule. It was evident,
however, that the jays were not tolerated in company with other birds
to any great extent, and I fancy they had a rather bad reputation, for
I noticed the birds took a defensive position often when a jay made
its appearance near their homes without any apparent evil intent, that
I could discover. I would sometimes see as many as five varieties of
birds after one jay; they were always victors, too. The robin, I always
observed, could defend himself against a jay, never seemed afraid to
do so, and indeed seemed to be the aggressor. The blue jay may be a
sly bird, a "robber and a thief," though I never detected those traits
to any especial extent; but he is handsome and brightens the winter
landscape. To be sure, I found that he was fond of green peas and corn
and did not hesitate in helping himself, also sampling the bright
Duchess apples. The robin is equally fond of all small fruits, and
greedy as well.