Chatterbox Stories of Natural History. Unknown

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Название Chatterbox Stories of Natural History
Автор произведения Unknown
Жанр Детские стихи
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Издательство Детские стихи
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      Chatterbox Stories of Natural History

      THE KING OF THE CASTLE

      AS the lion is called the king of beasts, so the eagle is called the king of birds; but except that it is bigger, stronger, and swifter than other birds, there does not seem much reason for the name. It is a mistake to attribute noble or mean qualities to animals or birds, or to think they can do good or bad actions, when they can only do what God has created them to do, and as their instinct teaches.

      The most powerful of the eagles is the Golden Eagle, so called because of the rich yellowish-brown bordering to its feathers. It makes its nest in the clefts of the rocky sides of the mountains, and seldom on a tree, unless where one has sprung up in between the clefts, and the tangled roots make a sort of platform. This the eagles cover with sticks, and here they make their house, living in it always, and not only when they lay eggs or have young ones.

      If there are eaglets in the nest, the food is at once carried home to them, and the skinning and eating done at home. Eagles are very attentive to their young, and feed them with great care until they are able to take care of themselves.

      ZEBRA AND YOUNG

      MRS. ZEBRA, standing with her baby by her side, asks proudly of the lookers-on, “Did you ever see such a likeness?” and certainly mother and child are very much alike, striped all over their bodies, from head to foot, and from nose to tail, with the same regular marks of black. Strong and wild by nature, the zebra family are left very much to themselves, which is a source of great happiness to the mother and child in the picture before us. “No! no! my baby is not going to become as tame as the donkey, or to draw carts and carriages like the horse; it is to have its freedom, and go just where it likes all over these large plains;”—so says Mrs. Zebra, and she means it too, for if anybody took the trouble to go all the way to the hot country of Africa, where Mrs. Zebra is at home, and tried to carry off her baby, they would find their journey a vain one, and that she would kick severely, and perhaps break the legs of the person bold enough to take away her darling.

      MRS. BRUIN AND FAMILY

      HIS is the American black bear, who is looking so lively and seemingly inviting the young folks to have a romp, which they will be only too willing to join in. The black bear is of a timid disposition, and seldom attacks man except in self-defense. The female bear is a most affectionate mother, and many stories are related showing her care and love for her young, and her sorrow and mournful cries when any evil befalls them. On one occasion a black bear with her two cubs was pursued across the ice by some armed sailors. At first she urged her cubs to increased speed, but finding her pursuers gaining upon them, she carried, pushed, and pitched them, alternately, forward, until she effected their escape from her pursuers.

      LITTLE OWLS

      WHO has not at one time or other of his life read fairy tales and sympathized with stories of enchanted princes and princesses? I once thought of this when a country boy offered me a nest with four of the young of the Little Owl. I put them into a large cage, where they could stare at each other and at my pigeons to their hearts' content.

      Let me say that this little owl is a very useful bird, for it keeps mice, bats, beetles, and other creatures in check, which might otherwise multiply too fast. On a spring or summer evening you may hear its plaintive hoot among the apple-blossoms of an orchard, or the sheaves of a cornfield. Curiously enough, this simple sound earned the little bird the name of being the harbinger of death, and peasants believed that whenever its cry was heard where sickness was in the family, the patient was sure to die.

      AUROCHS

      AN Aurochs in blind rage, charging through thick and thin, has had a fascination for me as long as I can remember. The true aurochs and this, the European Bison, ceased to exist in the British Isles, except in the Zoological Gardens; but the latter is still found wild in Lithuania, and is also carefully preserved in other parts of Russia, of which the Emperor has a herd. There is much talk about their being untamable—that they will not mix with tame cattle—that tame cows shrink from the aurochs' calves; but does not any cow shrink from any calf not her own? The American Bison, with which you are all pretty familiar, is very similar to the one just mentioned. There have been several attempts made to domesticate the American bison, and have been so far successful. The size and strength of the animal make it probable that if domesticated, it would be of great use.

      THE KANGAROO

      WELL,” said little Herbert Joyce, as he looked over the books of drawings which his cousin had just brought home from Australia, “I never saw anything so extraordinary before in all my life; why here is an animal with three heads, and two of them are very low down, and much smaller than the others.” “What do you mean, Herbert?” asked his cousin, who just then came into the room. “There are no three-headed animals—let me see the picture. Oh! no wonder you were puzzled; it does look like a queer creature. That is a kangaroo, and the small heads belong to her children, whom she carries about in a bag formed by a hole in her skin, until they are old enough to walk; and the little things seem very happy there; and sometimes, as their mother moves along over the grass, you may see them nibbling it.”

      THE PEACOCK

      PROUD bird! I watched thee stalking by,

      With stately step and slow,

      As though thou fain would'st charm each eye

      With glittering pomp and show:

      And truly thou art brave to see,

      In heaven's hues arrayed,

      And plainer birds at sight of thee

      Might shrink and be dismayed:

      Yet, pampered bird! there still are those

      I value higher far,

      Albeit their garb nor glints nor glows

      With many a jeweled star.

      I love them for their gentle ways,

      Their voices soft and sweet

      In summer chorus, that repays

      Right well their winter's meat.

      For what is outward form at best

      But accident of birth?

      That form in splendid raiment drest

      Is still but common earth.

      And yet 'tis he whose painted plumes

      Shine fairest in the sun,

      Who haughtiest look of pride assumes,

      As though by him 'twere done.

      We smile to see yon bird strut by,

      Thus proud of his array;

      But human friends we may espy

      As foolish every day.

      Not beauty's form nor grand attire

      Upon the wise will tell,

      But acts of those who e'er aspire

      To do their DUTY well.

      FEEDING THE PET.

      SWANS

      THIS beautiful and majestic bird was considered the bird-royal in England, owing to a law of England that when found in a partially wild state on the sea and navigable rivers it belonged to the crown; but of course it is to be found on the ponds and lakes of many a gentleman's estate, and