Chapter III (1)

We cut er fresh green carrot top 'n' put it in fer bait,
Wuz both so sure we'd ketch him 'at we couldn't hardly wait;
Pounded in some stakes each side 'n' made it good 'n' stout;
If Mister Cotton-Tail got in he never could get out.
Tom staid 'ith me till mornin', an' almos' 'fore it wuz light
We run behin' ther shed 'n' foun' our trap all shet up tight;
An' nen I shouted, "Got him!" 'n' Tom threw up his hat--
Blame 'f that ol' rabbit wasn't my Aunt Polly's cat!

"THE COUNTRY, THE COUNTRY!"

FROM A CLUB OF ONE, BY A. P. RUSSELL, L. H. D.[A]

Trees! Think of them! In the United States thirty-six varieties of oak, thirty-four of pine, nine of fir, five of spruce, four of hemlock, two of persimmon, twelve of ash, eighteen of willow, nine of poplar, and I don't know how many of the beautiful beech. I once counted over thirty different varieties of trees in the space of one acre. And the leaves--their number, their individuality, their variety of shape and tint, the acres of space that those of one great tree would cover if spread out and laid together! In the autumn to watch them fall--how slowly, how rapidly! Yet they say nobody ever saw one of them let go. Homer's comparison to the lives of men--how fine! Better than Lucian's to the bubbles. I remember very well one October day in Ohio. It was long ago--"in life's morning march, when my bosom was young." (I like to quote from that poem of Campbell's, it is incomparable of its kind.) A delightful tramp! Elderberries. (The great Boerhaave held the elder in such pleasant reverence for the multitude of its virtues, that he is said to have taken off his hat whenever he passed it.) Grapes. Haws. Pawpaws. (Nature's custard.) Spicewood. Sassafras. Hickory nuts. Nearly a primeval forest. Vines reminding one of Brazilian creepers. Trees that were respectable saplings when Columbus landed. The dead roots of an iron-wood--so like a monster as to startle. Behemoth I thought of. "He moveth his tail like a cedar.' Thistle-down. Diffused like small vices. Every seed hath wings. Here and there a jay, or a woodpecker. Grape-vines, fantastically running over the tops of tall bushes, grouping deformities, any one of which, if an artist drew it, would be called an exaggeration, worse than anything of Doré's. Trees, swaying and bowing to one another, like stilted clowns in Nature's afterpiece of the seasons. Trees incorporated, sycamore and elm, maple and hickory, modifying and partaking each other's nature; resembling so much as to appear one tree. A jolly gray squirrel, hopping from limb to limb, like a robin; swinging like an oriole; flying along the limb like a weaver's shuttle; scared away, at length, by a scudding cloud of pigeons, just brushing the tallest tree-tops, as if kissing an annual farewell. Clover. Sorrel. Pennyroyal. A drink of cider from a bit of broken crockery. ("Does he not drink more sweetly that takes his beverage in an earthen vessel than he that looks and searches into his golden chalices for fear of poison, and sleeps in armor, and trusts nobody, and does not trust God for his safety?") "All is fair--all is glad--from grass to sun!" Not a "melancholy" day. Keats' poem on Autumn comes to mind; and Crabbe's

"Welcome pure thoughts, welcome, ye silent groves;
These guests, these courts, my soul most dearly loves."

Indian summer. Balzac's comparison to ripe womanhood. The significant worn walk round the mean man's field; its crooked outline impressively striking. All in all, a white day. Memory of it supplies these notes. They might be expanded into an essay. The country, the country! Though the man who would truly relish and enjoy it must be previously furnished with a large and various stock of ideas, which he must be capable of turning over in his own mind, of comparing, varying, and contemplating upon with pleasure; he must so thoroughly have seen the world as to cure him of being over fond of it; and he must have so much good sense and virtue in his own heart as to prevent him from being disgusted with his own reflections, or uneasy in his own company. Alas!

Footnote:

[A] By permission.

THE GOPHER.

The name of gopher, according to Brehm, is applied in some American localities to various other widely variant rodents. The zoölogists, who first described the animal, obtained their specimens from Indians, who had amused themselves by cramming both cheek pouches full of earth, distending them to such a degree that if the animal had walked the pouches would have trailed on the earth. These artificially distended pouches obtained for the gopher its name; the taxidermists who prepared the dead specimens endeavored to give them what was supposed to be a life-like appearance by following the practice of the Indians in distending the cheek pouches, and the artists who delineated the animal followed the models which were accessible to them, but too truly in their drawings. Owing to these circumstances, the pictures of gophers of even recent date represent really monstrous animals, when they honestly intend to familiarize us with the gopher.

The gopher may be found east of the Rocky Mountains and to the west of the Mississippi river, between the thirty-fourth and fifty-second parallel of north latitude. It leads an underground life, digging tunnels in various directions. Tunnels, of old standing, says Brehm, are packed hard and firm from constant use. Lateral passages branch off at intervals. The main chamber is situated under the roots of a tree at a depth of about four and one-half feet; the entrance tunnel is sunk down to it with a spiral direction. This chamber is large, is lined with soft grass, and serves for a nesting and sleeping-place. The nest in which the young, numbering from five to seven, are born about the beginning of April, is lined with the hair of the mother. It is surrounded with circular passages from which the tunnels radiate. Gesner found that a passage leads from the nest to a larger hole, the storeroom, which is usually filled with roots, potatoes, nuts, and seeds. When throwing up the earth the gopher exposes itself to view as little as possible and immediately after accomplishing its purpose plunges back into its hole. According to Audubon it appears above ground to bask in the sun. We have seen it sit at the entrance to its den with an air of bold indifference to the approach of danger and then suddenly vanish under ground. Its acute sense of hearing and great power of scent protect it from surprises.

Audubon kept several gophers in captivity for months, feeding them on potatoes. Their appetites were voracious, but they would drink neither water nor milk. They made incessant efforts to regain their liberty by gnawing through boxes and doors. They constantly dragged clothing and other similar objects together, utilizing them as bedding, first gnawing them to pieces. One of them, straying into a boot, instead of turning back, simply gnawed its way through the tip. The habit of gnawing was unendurable and Audubon incontinently got rid of them.

The gopher is very destructive to valuable trees and plants, for which reason man is its most dangerous enemy, the only other foes it has to fear being water and snakes.

This pretty little rodent is often found in populous neighborhoods. A few years ago the writer saw one rush into a hole under the root of a large osage orange bush in Woodlawn, Chicago. Curiosity led him to watch for the reappearance of the animal, which soon put its head cautiously above the entrance and eyed the intruder with as much interest as a weasel will often show under like circumstances. For several weeks the gopher was visible in the morning hours. We pointed it out to several persons, each of whom declared it to be a ground squirrel. There is a great difference in these small animals, but they are frequently confounded.

The name of gopher is applied in some American localities to various other rodents.

HANS AND MIZI.

DR. ALBERT SCHNEIDER.

Hans was a little blue-eyed German orphan who had been "adopted" by a man and wife because they thought they could make good use of him; but to their chagrin they were disappointed. Hans had been told again and again that he was an ungrateful, lazy, good for-nothing. This was also the reason why his master whipped him so frequently. Now Hans was only nine years old and, of course, he could not know that he was so thoroughly bad unless he was told and the telling of it accompanied by cuffs, in order to impress this fact more fully upon his dull brain.

It was really true that Hans was lazy and perhaps queer in many ways. He disliked hard work, preferring to wander about the fields and meadows, the ditches, pastures, and the trees of the nearby forest. He had been discovered lying in the grass watching the fleeting clouds overhead and listening to the sighing of the wind in the tall grass and the overshadowing trees. In his imagination the breezes whispered soothing words, soft and low. He watched the busy bees, the ants, and the black carrion beetles tugging great loads up hill.

Often he had observed a lady with two children about his age going by on their way to Sunday-school. With wistful eyes he would watch the romping of the children and listen to their exclamations of joy as they played among the flowers. Sometimes the kind lady would beckon to Hans and talk kindly to him and make him presents. Then little Hans would cry as though his poor heart would break. He hid the gifts in a secret nook in the granary which was also his sleeping place and often he would think of the kind lady and her happy children while the love-hunger shone in his eyes.

Mizi was only a half-starved, homeless, gray kitten which came to Hans while he was hoeing in the orchard. The two understood each other at once, and why should they not? Both were homeless, friendless, and soulless. Everybody knows that a cat, much less a stray kitten, has no soul. You may say that Hans was neither a cat nor a kitten, but some little boys of the neighborhood had sneeringly remarked that he was a "fraid-cat." Besides, his master had whipped all the spirit out of him. Therefore he, too, was without a soul. Hans petted Mizi and gave her some bread-crusts and hid her in the shed to keep her out of sight of his master. Mizi gained in flesh and became very fond of Hans, and at times would try to follow him, but Hans would take her back and put her in a more secure place. Mizi did not know of the cruel master and in spite of all precautions she finally made her escape and searched for Hans. She could not find him, so she mewed again and again and finally succeeded in attracting, not only the attention of Hans but also that of the master who promptly picked up a stone and hurled it at Mizi but fortunately missed her. It may be that Mizi was not so easily frightened as Hans, for in time she tried to get to him even if the master was near. Poor, ignorant Mizi, she did not know that this show of friendliness would get Hans into trouble. The master concluded that Hans was responsible for the presence of Mizi and ordered him to take her and kill her then and there. In agony and despair Hans ran to Mizi to frighten her away but she only rubbed her glossy fur against him and purred gently and only when the frenzied master attempted to grasp her out of the protecting arms of Hans did she attempt to flee--but too late! a vicious kick caught her in the side but she managed to escape under the protecting granary. In the evening Hans went to the shed and called "Mizi, Mizi," and poor, suffering Mizi dragged herself far enough so that little Hans might stroke her head. Hans brought some bread and milk but Mizi only mewed piteously. In the morning Hans found Mizi stiff and cold near the opening of the shed. Poor Hans, he sobbed and sobbed and called, "Mizi, Mizi," most piteously but Mizi did not answer; her sufferings were over.

GEOGRAPHY LESSONS.

It is possible for a pupil to study geography diligently every day and forget apparently nearly everything he learns. Both geography and history are studies which may be pursued in such a way that nearly all that is acquired in any given month is lost in the next month. Those who are inclined to doubt this have but to test a class where the text has been the subject of acquisition. Test them on what they learned a month previously and even those inclined to believe this statement will be astonished that so little is retained of what once seemed to be known so well.

Mr. A sweeps his barn with the doors open and the wind blowing against his work. He works with much energy and some apparent efficiency; but the wind brings back the chaff to such an extent that there is never much clear space on his floor. Mr. B takes advantage of the direction of the wind, and every stroke counts for success and is more than doubled in effect by the help of the wind. The chaff flies before him and his floor is clear in a short time.

I have seen a steamer in waters opening upon the Bay of Fundy pouring out black smoke, beating the water into foam, and apparently making great progress. But observation of the distant shore proved that she was actually standing still. The adverse tide was such that she could not contend with it successfully. So she dropped her anchor and saved coal and the wear of machinery. Two hours later she swung with her cable, the anchor was hoisted, and she moved rapidly in the desired direction without the aid of a pound of steam. In Passamaquoddy bay are so many islands and channels and such a great fluctuation of tide that the waters are racing in various directions at all times. Fishermen study their courses and never tack against the tide. Those who go out every day do not leave home at the same hour Tuesday as on Monday, but just fifty minutes later. They do not go and return over the same courses, for many times the strongest flow of tide does not run where there was the swiftest ebb. With them the proverb, "The longest way round is the shortest way home," is often true, and I have heard them quote those words frequently.

In psychology there are both a wind and a tide. The wind is what the pupil thinks of the subject--as to its usefulness in his future life. The tide is his natural interest in the thing for its own sake.

Wind and tide are sometimes both against us, and it is a poor skipper who lacks the sense to tie up for a short time or take another course when he finds both set against him.

But there are teachers who battle fiercely against the desires and interests of their pupils, bound to compel them to learn, making a tremendous fuss, filling families with tears and tremblings, threatenings, scoldings, and reviewings--all with no permanent results of value.

There is a natural interest in children for birds. It is so strong and absorbing that it amounts to a psychological tide. The things of the bird-world act upon the child-mind rather instinctively than mentally. The whole child is active and alert when the subject is such that it fully interests him. A little effective teaching just at that time is worth more than hours of perfunctory drudgery over a similar task presented in the wrong way.

There are birds wherever man lives. They differ in color, form, and habit according to environment. The pupil who seems to be interested least in the ordinary things of the text book in geography is the very one, as a rule, to be caught with the birds and animals of the various parts of the earth. The pupil who will not retain information about the products of a country may be induced to consider intelligently something about the fauna of that country and pass readily to an interested study of the flora, and from what grows there to what is shipped from that place.

THE MINK.

(_Putorius vison._)

This soft fur bearing animal has been described by Audubon and Prince De Wied. Its nearest relatives are very closely allied to the polecat and differ from it only by a flatter head, larger canine teeth, shorter legs, the presence of webs between the toes, a longer tail, and a lustrous fur, consisting of a close, smooth, short hair, resembling otter fur. Its color is a uniform brown. The fur of the American mink is much more esteemed than that of the European, as it is softer and of a more woolly character.

According to Audubon the mink ranks next to the ermine in destructive capacity, prowling around the farmyard or duck-pond, and its presence is soon detected by the sudden disappearance of young chickens and ducklings. Audubon had a personal experience with a mink which made its home in the stone dam of a small pond near the home of the naturalist. The pond had been dammed for the benefit of the ducks in the yard, and in this way afforded the mink hunting-grounds of ample promise. Its hiding-place had been selected with cunning, very near the house and still nearer the place where the chickens had to pass on their way to drink. In front of its hole were two large stones, which served the mink as a watch tower, from which it could overlook the yard as well as the pond. It would lie in wait for hours every day and would carry away chickens and ducks in broad daylight. Audubon found the mink to be especially plentiful on the banks of the Ohio river, and there observed it to be of some use in catching mice and rats. But it was also addicted to poaching and fishing. The naturalist observed it to swim and dive with the greatest agility and pursue and attack the quickest of fishes, such as the salmon and trout. It will eat frogs or lizards, but when food is plentiful it is very fastidious, preying upon rats, finches and ducks, hares, oysters and other shell fish; in short, Brehm says it adapts itself to the locality and knows how to profit by whatever food supplies it may be able to find. When frightened it gives forth a very fetid odor like the polecat.

The female gives birth to five or six young at about the end of April. If taken young they get to be very tame and become real pets. Richardson saw one in the possession of a Canadian lady who used to carry it about with her in her pocket. It is easily caught in a trap of any kind, but its tenacity of life renders it difficult to shoot. The European mink much resembles the American, except that it is somewhat smaller and its fur is coarser.

Upon a large farm in Michigan visited by the writer this summer ran a creek where the chickens, when the trough was dry--and dry it usually was--traveled to get a drink. In the bank of the creek a mink made his home, and not a week passed that one or more hens did not appear in the barnyard crippled or mangled in a manner painful to behold--painful, that is, to the visitor, but not apparently to the farmer, who only said: "It's that darned mink; some day, when I have time, I'll set a trap and catch him," and so went coolly on his way, leaving the poor maimed creatures to drag out a painful existence for days or weeks, hoping that nature would heal the wounds made by the mink.

Aside from the lack of thrift thus shown by the farmer--for the hens, when badly mangled, in time succumbed--the inhumane aspect of the case never seemed to strike him. The cultivation of his fields left no time for cultivating the finer feelings of the heart.

THE NEW SPORT.

JOHN WINTHROP SCOTT.

In the early days every man and boy knew how to use a gun. It was a necessity of life. It brought in meat for the family. The regular business of every holiday was to go to the woods and kill. The free life of the woods, the pleasure of ranging about for a purpose, and the excitement attending success in bagging game were among their greater pleasures.

Now we live in cities mainly. Even the country boy has less regard for the gun. The game and many of the birds and animals that are not game have been killed off, so that country boys now wish to give them a chance for their lives. Probably the worst murderers of songsters and innocent animals are the ignorant city youths who get only a day or two in the woods in a year.

Guns have been "improved" to such an extent that whether the gunner has any skill or not everything in sight can be killed because of the rapidity of fire and the number of chances for killing. A gun has been invented which pours a steady stream of rapid fire as long as you hold the trigger. It was invented for killing men on the battlefield; but there are other guns nearly as destructive that are used for "sport."

Public schools, Audubon societies, women's clubs, and other humanizing agencies have so modified the ideas of boys and young men that there are but few who hunt for sport.

The cheapening of the camera and its perfection for amateur use have placed a new shooting apparatus in their hands, and many young people of both sexes are now more or less expert in making exposures and developing. A shot with a camera is worth more than a shot with a gun. You have to eat or stuff the unfortunate bird or animal you shoot with a gun. When it is gone you have nothing to show for your skill.

The shot with a camera gives you a handsome picture with many thrilling details to relate. If you wish to boast you have the evidence at hand to corroborate your statement. The pictures last indefinitely, are easily stored, and may be duplicated at will.

Camera presents last Christmas far outnumbered the guns given. Boys and girls much prefer the new sport to the old. With the aid of the bicycle in getting about the country, young people are making trips to the country with loaded cameras and bringing in much more satisfactory game than they used to get with guns.

The skill some of them have manifested in getting a focus on some shy resident of the woods or fields is indeed remarkable. Imitations of brush heaps are made out of light stuff that may easily be carried about. These may be placed before the residence of a rabbit or woodchuck for several days before the attempt is made to get a shot from beneath. A great deal of caution is sometimes necessary to get the subject accustomed even to a strange brush heap, so he will act naturally at the instant the snap is made.

Two young Englishmen made a mock tree-trunk of cloth, painted its exterior, cut holes in it for observation and for the camera, tricked it out with vines, spread it out on a light frame so they could set it up where they chose, and got so many beautiful and scientifically interesting views that they have written a book that has had a large sale. It is embellished with half-tone engravings made from their collections of photographs, and is a most delightful and useful addition to one's library. It is entitled "Wild Life at Home," and is published by Cassell & Company of New York. It has met with such popularity largely because it has appeared just at the time when so many young people are turning their attention from the killing of birds and animals to the more pleasing and humane business of catching their likenesses in their native haunts.

Dr. R. W. Shufeldt, of Washington, a distinguished naturalist, has made many photographs of wild life in the United States, and embellished his own works with reproductions of these pictures which are so very interesting and difficult to secure.

The telephoto lens is a great help in taking the more timid subjects. Audubon used a telescope to get the most familiar glimpses of these little inhabitants of the forests long before the dry plate was invented. What would he not have given to have been the possessor of a means of taking instantly all the details and attitudes of the wild birds he loved so well!

The camera is now adding daily to the accurate knowledge we possess of the things of nature, and every young person should own one and become familiar with its rare qualities and usefulness. It is very gratifying to think that sport in the woods now means something superior to the old bloody work our boys formerly pursued with guns. With a copy of the book above mentioned a boy is equipped with suggestions and directions enough to keep him busy and well employed for several seasons.

MOLE CRICKET LODGE.

BERTHA SEAVEY SAUNIER.

Mr. and Mrs. Mole Cricket had folded their hands for the winter. The busy season was over, for the ground was all hard with the foot tread of Jack Frost and the snow lay all over the lodge--a solid, warm cover that squeaked and crunched quite musically when little Boy Will rode back and forth on it with his sled Dasher.

Shadows lay rather heavily in the lodge. The caverns and galleries which had been built in warmer times were hung with darkness and all was still in slumber.

Side by side in the chamber, just under the long, dead grass and the white snow, with a roof formed of tiny roots and loose earth, lay Mr. and Mrs. Mole Cricket.

It was the same chamber in which had lain the little white eggs that the warm sun had hatched, and from it the young crickets had gone out, already valiant, to burrow their own galleries, and seek their own food.

Slumber had gone on in the chamber for many weeks when, at a sudden sound, Mr. Cricket moved. We fancy he was cross at being disturbed. "What's that?" he said.

"Boy Will," answered his wife. "He's digging up the snow to make a snow man, and shouting."

"He'll make us cold," grumbled Mr. Cricket.

"Then we must go to the cavern."

"But we can't--I'm as stiff as a stick."

"I believe I am, too."

The earth that covered their roof was very sandy and loose, when not frozen, and as it was, it yielded readily to persistent thumps such as now fell about it. The snow was soggy--just right for building purposes--and Boy Will, in his enthusiasm, scraped up a shovelful of dirt with the last bit of snow that covered the lodge. His sharp eyes saw something black lying beneath the little dead roots that had in the summer belonged to his forget-me-nots. He took the shovel--it was his mother's stove shovel--and carefully pried the dark bundle up, and with his little red fingers separated it from its wrappings.

"Aha!" he said, and ran into the house. "Look a-here!" he cried as he ran up to his father's desk. "Well, well!" said his father, looking at the objects through gold-bowed spectacles, "that's the same sort of fellow that we teased last summer with a grass blade."

"Tell me," said Boy Will, in wonder, "don't you remember the little hole in the garden, and when I put in a spear of grass how the fellow grabbed it with his jaws? I drew him out and there was Sir Mole Cricket that does so much mischief in the garden."

"Oh yes; and now here are two; but they are dead."

"No, only asleep for the winter. The warm room will revive them but they may die after all. They will have awakened out of season."

"I wish I could put them back," said Boy Will.

"We will study them a little and then we will see," returned his father as he took up his penknife and pointed to the folded legs.

"Those big flat fore-legs are what do all the mischief. They are like strong little hands and have claws on them and they are used for digging. The main business of Sir Cricket is to burrow and he works away with these hands of his until he will have made a number of underground passages. And in his work he will cut off hundreds of new, tender roots that belong to plants and shrubs. And that's the mischief of him."

"What do they eat?"

"Why, little bugs; but they are fierce, hungry creatures, and when they meet a mole cricket that is weak and defenseless they pounce on him and eat him. They are no respecter of relatives."

"They don't deserve to live!" cried Boy Will, with a stamp.

"But we can give them their chances," returned Mr. Rey. "Now look at this one. There are two sets of wings. One outside and one inside like grasshoppers, but much shorter. Here are two delicate feelers, or antennæ, bent backward, and two at the end of the body. I suppose those are for the purpose of discovering any danger that might approach them from behind while they are busy at digging. The jaws are toothed and horny, and so, all in all, we may put Sir Cricket down in the same order in which are the katydid, grasshopper, field and house cricket, cockroach, earwig and so on, which is the order _Orthoptera_. Now come and show me where you found them."

Boy Will led the way where stood his half-built snow-man, and Mr. Rey with a stick felt about in the chamber for the opening to another cavity to the lodge.

"Ah, here it is--a warmer and a better one than the other because it is deeper," and he slipped the two objects in and stopped the doorway with earth and snow.

"Well, I declare!" said Mr. Mole Cricket from under his horny skin, "What do you think of that?"

"Why," said his wife, "they've put us in the cavern where we should have been in the first place. What a mistake it was to go to sleep in the nursery! Now we shall be quite safe until spring."

"Well, well, true enough!" returned Sir Mole Cricket. And they both fell asleep again.

SNOW BIRDS.

This poem, by Louis Honoré Frechette, the laureate of Canada, is very fine in the original, and holds the same position in French-Canadian literature that Bryant's "Lines to a Waterfowl" occupies in American classics. It is one of the poems that won for its author the crown of the French academy and the Grand Prix Monthyon of 2,000 livres.

When the rude Equinox, with his cold train
From our horizons drives accustomed cheer,
Behold! a thousand winged sprites appear
And flutter briskly round the frosty plain.
No seeds are anywhere, save sleety rain,
No leafage thick against the outlook drear;
Rough winds to wildly whip them far and near;
God's heart alone to feel their every pain.
Dear little travelers through this icy realm,
Fear not the tempest shall you overwhelm;
The glad spring buds within your happy song.
Go, whirl about the avalanche, and be,
O birds of snow, unharmed, and so teach me:
Whom God doth guard is stronger than the strong.
--_C. G. B._

VEGETATION IN THE PHILIPPINES.

Much attention has of late been devoted to the Philippines, and as one result considerable interest has been evinced in their natural products. In the matter of vegetation they are highly favored. Fruits grow in great abundance, and the reputation of some of them is already established abroad, as is the case, for example, with the mango. Other fruits grown in the islands are the ate (the cinnamon apple of the French colonists), the mangosteen, the pineapple, the tamarind, the orange, the lemon, the jack, the jujube, the litchi (regarded by the Chinese as the king of fruits), the plum, the chico-mamey (the sapodilla of the West Indies), the bread fruit, and the papaw. The last named is eaten like a melon, and is valued as a digestive; its juice furnishes an extract which is used as a medicament under the name of papaine, or vegetable pepsin. The banana grows abundantly and is a great boon to the poor people, supplying them with a cheap, delicious, and exceedingly nutritive food; there are many varieties, ten of which are in particular highly esteemed.

Plants which are cultivated for industrial purposes include the sugar cane, of which four varieties are grown--yellow cane, Otaheite cane, purple or Batavia cane, and striped cane. Of vegetables there are several pulses used as food by the natives which never appear on the tables of the European settlers. These include the mango, mentioned above, and three or four kinds of beans, such as the butingue, the zabache, the Abra bean, and the Patami bean. These suit the natives much better than the garbanzos, or chick peas, that are so highly prized by the Spaniards. Among the tuberous roots valued as food the sweet potato ranks first, with an annual production of 98,000,000 pounds. The common or white potato, although of inferior quality, stands next in importance. Then follows the camotengcahoy or manihot (cassava), the root of which is made edible by the removal of its poisonous juice in the same way as in the West Indies. After expression of the juice the pulp forms a sort of coarse-grained flour that is very nutritious, pleasant to the taste and easy to digest. Besides these tubers other plants, such as the ubi, the togui and the gabi, are cultivated in the fields for the sake of their edible roots. Other edible vegetables include calabashes, melons, watermelons, cucumbers, carrots, celery, parsley, tomatoes, egg plants, peppers, capers, cabbages, lettuce, endives, mustard, leeks, onions, asparagus, and peas. Of the cocoa palms the ordinary cocoanut tree is the most important, the oil of which is put to many and varied uses. The bamboo is much valued, the young and tender shoots making a very acceptable article of food, in the form of salads and other dishes, and the fibre is used for numerous purposes. Tobacco as a cultivated crop is generally grown in the same field as maize. Of spices the Philippines grow cinnamon, nutmegs, pepper, ginger, and majoram. Of medicinal plants the most familiar are the papaw, already mentioned, and ipecacuanha.

Among aromatic and ornamental plants may be mentioned magnolias, camellias, clematis, several kinds of roses, dahlias, ylang-ylang, papua, jessamine, and many species of orchids and ferns. These, however, grow wild in such profusion that little care is bestowed upon their cultivation.--_Gardener's Magazine._

COMMON MINERALS AND VALUABLE ORES.

3.--MINERALS CONTAINING CARBON.

THEO. F. BROOKINS, B. S., Principal Au Sable Forks Union Free School and Academy, New York.

Among minerals of economic importance carbon minerals hold the unique position of being at the same time of the most common and the most rare occurrence. As far as external appearance indicates, a piece of common coal and the most brilliant diamond are widely separated; with regard to chemical composition they are closely related. Intermediate between the coal of the stoke furnace and the "brilliant" of the jewelry shop is still another well-known form of carbon, the graphite of the lead pencil. These three substances comprise the far greater part of carbon-containing minerals.

In so far as our mind's picture of a mineral is that of an aggregation of crystals of fairly perfect form our consideration of coal as a mineral is erroneous. We must yield to a broader interpretation of the essential characteristics of a mineral and modify our idea so as to include any homogeneous substance (solid, with the single exception of mercury) of fairly definite chemical composition "occurring in nature but not of apparent organic origin." Organic substances are those that are alive or have lived.

Vegetation is, undoubtedly, the origin of all coal, but often much more than a cursory examination is necessary to prove such origin. In the less altered coals the vegetable origin is readily proved by the actual presence of seeds, plant fibers, and other equally apparent organic remains. A microscopic study is necessary for finding the presence of woody fiber in the more metamorphosed form. The word metamorphose comes from the Greek; _meta_ means after or over; _morphe_ is form. A metamorphosis is a change of form or a forming over.

The history of the discovery of the value of coal as a means of producing heat and of the development of the coal-mining industry covers a comparatively recent period. Coal occurs in such quantities near the surface of the earth's crust and its outcrops are so numerous that it cannot have failed to attract the attention of the most ancient of peoples. Indeed, that coal could be used as a fuel is mentioned by a writer, Theophrastus, who lived 300 years B. C. The ancient Celts of Britain are reputed to have evidenced knowledge of the industrial value of coal. It was not until near the middle of the thirteenth century, however, that coal became so important an economic product as to result in statutes granting to certain places the privilege of mining it. After a long period of trial in England the superiority of coal over other fuels was recognized, and stone coal, as the harder form was commonly known, came into general use. In America bituminous, or soft coal, was mined to a slight extent in the latter half of the eighteenth century. The form now commonly used in house-heating furnaces, anthracite, for a long time baffled the colonists in their efforts to make it burn. The knowledge that an anthracite fire is most effective if not continually poked is said to have been acquired generally by accident.

Europe and the United States to-day produce practically all the coal of the world. In Europe, Great Britain, Germany, France, Austria-Hungary, and Belgium are the main sources of supply. Several important coal areas exist in our own country, notably that of the New England basin, with an area of 500 square miles; the Appalachian district, with an area of 65,000 square miles; the northern area, in Michigan, covering 7,000 square miles; the central area, comprising parts of Illinois, Indiana and Kentucky, and including 48,000 square miles; the scattered western area, with a total of 98,000 square miles; the indefinite Rocky Mountain area, and the Pacific coast region, including parts of California, Oregon, and Washington. Coal mining is yet an undeveloped industry in our territorial possessions. Alaska has an abundant supply of coal, and lesser quantities are found in Cuba and Porto Rico.

Mention has already been made of the two common kinds of coal, bituminous and anthracite. These two kinds mark different stages in the transformation from plant organism to mineral product. As the biologist traces the successive steps in the evolution of an individual of a species from germ to adult, so the geologist unfolds before us the wonderful history of a piece of coal from its first appearance on the earth to the time when it is thrown into our fire grate as fuel. Coal is the metamorphosed product of vegetable growths, changed by atmospheric agencies and the internal forces of the earth acting through a total period of perhaps millions of years. In the remote past, ages before man had appeared on the earth, the atmosphere or our globe was highly charged with carbon gases. Vegetation flourished in luxuriance. Great swamps were common. The ocean alternately covered and receded from verdure-clothed land areas. Ponds were transformed to morasses and swamps. In the swamps thus formed, the accumulated sediment of centuries upon centuries covered alternate layers of decayed plant organisms, until finally beds of peat were formed. Great masses above pressed on those underneath; the internal heat of the earth reached up and transformed the densely packed masses of peat until the beds became hard and brown, the product of the partial metamorphism being what we know as lignite, or brown coal. With the continued action of the forces of metamorphism, the lignite turned still darker, and as more gases were driven off, became heavier, until the bituminous stage was reached, which, in turn, was succeeded by the anthracite stage.

Graphite, or black lead, is a mineral containing not more than five per cent of impurities, and is generally supposed to have originated as did mineral coal, and to represent a still more advanced stage of development. It occurs in various localities both in the vicinity of coal measures and far removed from them. The chief part of the world's supply comes from Ceylon, though Germany and the United States produce quantities of graphite of excellent quality. In the Laurentian rocks of Canada, and of course with as ancient origin, extensive deposits are found. This presence of graphite in strata in which as yet no certain traces of organic life have been found has led some to believe that this form of carbon mineral may have another than organic origin.

Various uses are served by graphite. The chemist finds it of great value in making his crucibles; the engineer uses it, finely powdered, as a lubricant; the housekeeper polishes stoves with it; the electrician uses it in his arc lights; all civilized nations use it in the lead of lead pencils. The stem, _grapho_ (to write), on which so many of our words, as geography, telegraph, graphophone, etc., are formed, suggests also the origin of the name, graphite. The finest quality lead pencils are those made from graphite occurring in a state sufficiently pure to allow the cutting and grinding of pieces to the size needed. In the case of the medium and poorer grade pencils, the graphite has first been finely powdered and then pressed into the requisite shape and size.

The purest form of carbon found in nature is the diamond. The rare occurrence of diamonds indicates that the essential conditions in nature for causing the transformation of some less pure form of carbon into diamond are seldom present. While diamonds have actually been produced in the laboratory by far-seeing and indefatigable chemists, yet the cost of such products is so great as to preclude the possibility of the most precious of gems becoming at all common. The diamond is the hardest of all known substances, and will scratch any other mineral across which it may be drawn.

Three localities have successively furnished the main part of the world's stock of diamonds. A century and a half ago, practically all the diamonds came from India, where at one time 60,000 persons were employed in diamond digging. Toward the middle of the eighteenth century, when the diamondiferous districts of India were becoming exhausted, the discovery of the precious gem in Brazilian deposits was made. At present, the supply of diamonds from Brazil has much diminished, and the diamond fields of South Africa, where is located the famous Kimberley mine, produce the larger part of the world's output of diamonds.

Among famous diamonds of the world should be mentioned the Koh-i-noor of the British crown, which, Hindu legend relates, was worn five thousand years ago by one of their national heroes. The largest known diamond, weighing three hundred sixty-seven carats, was found in Borneo, and is now owned by the Rajah of Matan.

FEBRUARY.

FEBRUARY,--fortnights two--
Briefest of the months are you,
Of the winter's children last.
Why do you go by so fast?
Is it not a little strange
Once in four years you should change,
That the sun should shine and give
You another day to live?
May be this is only done
Since you are the smallest one;
So I make the shortest rhyme
For you, as befits your time:

You're the baby of the year,
And to me you're very dear,
Just because you bring the line,
"Will you be my Valentine?"
--_Frank Dempster Sherman._

The snow had begun in the gloaming,
And busily all the night
Had been heaping field and highway
With a silence deep and white.

Every pine and fir and hemlock
Wore ermine too dear for an earl,
And the poorest twig on the elm-tree
Was ridged inch-deep with pearl.

From sheds new-roofed with Carrara
Came Chanticleer's muffled crow,
The stiff rails were softened to swan's-down,
And still fluttered down the snow.
--_Lowell._

LICORICE.

(_Glycyrrhiza glabra L._)

DR. ALBERT SCHNEIDER, Northwestern University School of Pharmacy.

But first he cheweth greyn and _licorys_
To smellen sweete.--_Miller's Tale, l. 504; Chaucer._

The licorice yielding plant is a perennial herb with a thick root-stock, having a number of long sparingly branched roots and very long runners or rhizomes. It belongs to the same family as the peas and beans (_Leguminosæ_). It has purplish flowers with the irregular corolla characteristic of the family. The pods are rather small, much compressed, each with from two to five seeds.

The plant is in all probability a native of the warm parts of the Mediterranean region. There are several varieties of _G. glabra_, all of which are more or less extensively cultivated and placed upon the market.

As to the exact habitat of licorice there is some difference of opinion. According to some authorities its native home is in the vicinity of the sea of Azov. Dioscorides was among the first to give a description of the plant and designated the pontic lands and Kappadonia of Asia Minor as its home. The Romans named the plant _Glycyrrhiza_. Celsius, Scribonius Largus, and Plinius described it as _Radix dulcis_, sweet root, on account of its sweet taste. Galenus, the eminent Roman physician, made extensive medicinal use of the roots as well as of the juice. Alexander Trallianus also recommended licorice very highly. Although this plant enjoyed extensive use during the middle ages it was apparently not included in the herbal list of Charlemagne, _Karl der Grosse_. In the 13th century licorice was highly prized in Switzerland as a remedy for lung troubles. It was similarly used in Wales and in Denmark. Pietro di Crescenzi of Bologna (1305) was the first to give a full report of the occurrence and cultivation of licorice. The Benedictine monks of St. Michaelis cultivated it extensively in the vicinity of Bamberg. The eminent authority, Flückiger, reports a peculiar practice by these monks. A new hand in the horticultural work was initiated by requiring him to dig up a complete root of a licorice plant with all its branches including the rhizome. This was by no means an easy task on account of the ramification of the roots and the extreme length of the rhizome.

Glycyrrhiza is extensively cultivated in Greece, Italy, France, Russia, Germany, the Danubian Provinces, southern China, northern Africa, and to some extent in England. In the Italian province of Calabria licorice is planted with peas and corn. In the course of three years the roots are collected, the juice expressed and root evaporated to the proper consistency for shipping. New crops are grown from cuttings of the rhizomes. There is an excellent quality of licorice grown in the vicinity of Smyrna. The principal commercial varieties are grown in Spain, southern Russia, Turkey and Italy. Spanish and Russian licorice root is dried and shipped in bales or bundles. Spanish licorice root is unpeeled and occurs in pieces several feet in length. Russian licorice is usually peeled. Most of the licorice used in the United States is obtained from Italy, Russia, and Germany. Some of the licorice found upon the market is quite fragmentary and very dirty. The licorice raised in England is intended for home consumption and is placed upon the market in both the fresh and dried state. The fresh roots have an earthy and somewhat nauseous odor. The peel, or bark, of the roots contains tannic acid and a resinous oil, both of which are undesirable; hence the peeled article is usually preferred.

DESCRIPTION OF PLATE.--_A_, flowering portion of plant; 1, flower;
2, 3, 4, parts of the flower; 5, stamens; 6, stigma; 7, ovary; 8,
fruit; 9, one valve of pod with seeds; 10, 11, 12, different views
of seed.

The characteristically sweet taste of the licorice roots and rhizomes is due to glycyrrhizin and some sugar. Glycyrrhizin is a glucoside which splits up into glucose, a substance closely akin to sugar, and glycyrretin, a bitter substance. The extract of licorice is prepared by crushing the fresh roots or rhizomes, then boiling repeatedly in water, expressing and then condensing the sap in copper kettles until it is quite hard when cooled. In Calabria the condensed juice, while still warm and pliable, is rolled into sticks and stamped with the name of the locality where it was prepared. In those countries where the fresh roots cannot be obtained the dried roots are crushed and then treated as above. The licorice sticks prepared in this country usually have stamped upon them the initials of the manufacturing firm. Much of the evaporated juice is also placed upon the market in large lumps or masses. The pure licorice extract, prepared as indicated above, is a glossy black, very brittle, with a glassy fracture. For shipment it must be carefully packed to prevent its being broken into small bits. To reduce the brittleness various substances are added as starch and gum arabic.

Licorice extract is a highly appreciated sweetmeat but unfortunately it is often grossly adulterated with dextrin, starch, sugar, and gum arabic. Many of the licorice drops, etc., contain very little licorice, but even the poorest article seems to be highly prized by the average child. Licorice extract in mass is known as licorice paste and is extensively employed in preparing chewing tobacco and in brewing beer, to which substances it imparts a peculiar flavor and a dark color.

Licorice extract is a popular remedy for colds and sore throat, though its curative powers are certainly very slight. Physicians make extensive use of it to disguise the disagreeable taste of medicines, such as quinine. It is an ingredient of many cough remedies. The finely powdered roots are dusted over pills to prevent their adhesion and to give them consistency.

Licorice roots have the same properties as the extract and may be similarly used. Many children prefer the dried roots obtained at the drug store to the stick licorice or the licorice drops. This choice is in many respects a good one; the roots are at least not adulterated, but of course only the juice should be swallowed--a precaution which it is not necessary to emphasize--as the fibrous nature of the wood makes it difficult to swallow. Even if a little of it is swallowed no particular harm would be done, as it is not in the least poisonous, though the fibers may act as an irritant to the stomach.

As already indicated there are several species of _Glycyrrhiza_ of which the roots and rhizomes are used like those of _G. glabra_, but, in addition to these there are a number of other plants designated as licorice. Indian licorice or the wild licorice of India (_Abrus precatorius_), is a woody twining plant growing quite abundantly in India; it is sometimes substituted for true licorice. Prickly licorice (_Glycyrrhiza echinata_) resembles true licorice quite closely. The wild licorice of America (_Glycyrrhiza lepidota_) is found in the Northwest. Its roots are quite sweet and often used as a substitute for true licorice. The European plant known as "rest harrow" (_Ononis spinosa_), so-called because its tangled roots impede the progress of the harrow, has roots with an odor and taste resembling licorice. The roots are extensively employed by the country practitioners of France and Germany in the treatment of jaundice, dropsy, gout, rheumatism, toothache, ulcers, and eruptive diseases of the scalp. The name, wild licorice, also applies to _Galium circaezans_ and _Galium lanceolatum_ on account of the sweetish roots. The wild licorice of Australia is _Teucrium corymbosum_. Licorice vetch (_Astragalus glycyphyllus_) has sweet roots. Licorice weed (_Scoparia dulcis_) is a common tropical plant which also has sweet-tasting roots.

A WINTER WALK IN THE WOODS.

ANNE W. JACKSON.

Last week I had the good fortune to be invited with two other girls to spend a few days in the country. We hailed the invitation with delight and accepted it with alacrity, for we all three love to get out into the woods and fields.

We started on Friday afternoon, going the first part of the journey by train. The sky was cloudy and the weather mild. We watched the moving pictures that sped by the car windows as eagerly as children.