Chapter II: Part 2

Thus the annual recurrence of this phenomenon has been going on not since the creation, as many suppose, but for units of ages whose lapse can be reckoned only by millenniums of calendar years. It is not the time and place here to discuss the means by which this length of time can be even approximately determined, but there are certain inferences and conclusions which are well endorsed by scientific research.

For our present purpose it is quite sufficient to say that the Glacial Epoch wholly changed the climatic relations of the polar and middle latitude regions of our globe. From the semitropical conditions which once perennially existed there, these regions have since and for ages been subject to the intense cold which now periodically prevails within those limits.

There is a growing conviction among geologists that the intense cold of the Glacial Epoch was caused by a change in the eccentricity of the earth’s orbit. If this be true, then the “Great Winter” of astronomers was reigning in all its severity 210,000 years ago.

The wild goose, his near relatives, the brant and swan, and other aquatic feathered races, made their appearance on the fifth day of creation. “And God said, Let the waters bring forth abundantly the moving creature that hath life, and fowl that may fly above the earth in the open firmament of heaven.”

Now this fifth day of creation very nearly corresponds to the Triassic and Jurassic periods of Mesozoic Time in Geology.

Although “every winged fowl after his kind” is included in the bird category of this creative act, it has been thought, and for good reasons, that the more highly organized birds other than the aquatic tribes, did not make their appearance till the sixth day of the Mosaic account, which would be exactly represented by the Tertiary Period of Cenozoic Time. According to this view, then, the wild goose is an older denizen of our world than the smaller birds of passage which make their home on the land only.

But Geology fills up many niches and supplies many details left blank in the first chapter of Genesis. It is now one of the firmly established tenets among geologists that between the Mesozoic and Cenozoic times there came a tremendous disturbance in the earth’s crust.

In his “Story of the Earth,” Dr. J. Dorman Steele says, “The Mesozoic time, like the Palaeozoic, was closed by mighty upheavals. The conditions of life were changed. All the Mesozoic types disappeared; hardly any species survived the shock.” A few individuals did survive, however, and among them was our venerable friend, the wild goose.

Having now finished the prefatory portion of our story, the reader will be better able to understand what may follow.

There is something wonderful, a conception, indeed, which smacks little short of the sublime in contemplating the protracted journeyings of the larger aquatic birds of passage. Especially is this true of the American wild goose, the brant and the swan. The brant is the wild goose of Great Britain and continental Europe; a much smaller bird than his American relative; and its migrations are of comparatively short range.

The European domesticated swan, remains, of course, the year round in the country of his adoption.

Not so, however, with the American goose and swan. Both the former, Anseres hyperboreas, and the latter, Cygnus buccinator, rear their young in the Arctic regions and spend the succeeding winter with their offspring in the Gulf States and Central America.

Think of these magnificent birds, those on the Pacific coast flying from the shores of the Arctic ocean in northern Alaska and British America, crossing the Rocky Mountains, and, after a journey of four or five thousand miles, complacently settling down in Texas, Mexico, Yucutan, or Nicaragua, as the experienced leaders may determine. Then turn to those on the Atlantic side of the continent and watch them as they leave the Baffin’s Bay country, cross the great lakes and the Appalachian mountain system to make a short winter sojourn among the everglades of southern Florida.

In the tactics of these great birds while performing their immense journeys there is something remarkable even to the casual observer. More than two thousand years ago it was recorded by a student of natural history that, “Olores iter facientes colla imponunt praecedentibus; fessos duces ad terga recipiunt.”

“Swans performing a journey rest their necks upon those preceding; and the leaders receive the weary ones upon their backs.”

And this significant remark has often been confirmed by modern observation.

Owing to the fact that they are more sparsely distributed, that they fly much higher and in smaller numbers than wild geese, the swans are comparatively seldom seen during their migratory flights save in the fastnesses of mountainous districts or at the extreme points of arrival and departure. Hence we see why so little is known concerning the details of their aerial movements.

On the contrary, the semi-annual passage of wild geese is not only a folk-lore phenomenon, but a familiar spectacle to the residents of cities and towns as well as those who spend their days in the rural districts. Now, there is more military precision in the alignment of a large flock of wild geese than the most careful observer ever dreamed of or science investigated.

Here in the fastnesses of our Rocky Mountains there are many exceptionally good opportunities for watching the marvelous evolutions of these birds.

While their flight may be a mile high or more when spanning a level scope of country, as in the prairie districts, they barely clear the more elevated peaks while crossing lofty mountain ranges. Hence it will be seen that an observer on either slope is much nearer the passing birds than an inhabitant of the lower levels or plains.

The well known acute angled form assumed by wild geese in their annual journeys is not a mere fortuitous conceit on the part of the birds, but a true pattern of that diagram formulated by the anserine leaders of long agone prehistoric ages; brave old heroes that piloted their snowy hosts over the storm-lashed wastes of northern latitudes while frost and fire and glacier and drift were so radically changing the topography of our globe.

It can be shown that this particular form of alignment in the flight of geese is just as essential to the convenience and vital interests of the birds as the hexagonal form of honeycomb cells is to the bees that construct and fill them with honey. Nay, it is also true that no other form of alignment in flight could fulfill the conditions required; but we cannot here explain the principles involved in the interesting discussion.

L. Philo Venen.

THE DIAMOND.

The Diamond is generally conceded to be the most beautiful as it is the most important of precious stones. While other stones at times exceed it in value, weight for weight, in total importance as an article of commerce other gems are hardly to be compared with it. Out of thirteen and one-half millions of dollars’ worth of precious stones imported into the United States in 1900, twelve million dollars’ worth were Diamonds. Not all this amount was employed for jewelry, since there is a large utilization of the stone for industrial purposes, but even for jewelry the Diamond has a largely preponderating use. Its points of superiority are its hardness, high refractive powers and hence play of colors, its transparency and its luster. In all these qualities it excels any other known mineral. Hence when in addition to these it exhibits different body colors, as is sometimes the case, no other gem can equal it in value.

Usually the Diamond is colorless or white, although shades of yellow are also common. It is also known in shades of red, green and blue and in brown and black. The two latter are rarely transparent and grade into the varieties known as bort and carbonado, which have no value as gems but are highly important for industrial purposes.

In composition the Diamond is pure carbon, thus not differing chemically from graphite or such forms of carbon as lamp-black, bone-black, etc. It is crystallized, but this can be said of graphite as well. Why carbon should assume the form of Diamond in one case and graphite in another, as well as being amorphous in other occurrences, is not known. Such behavior of a substance is known as dimorphism, and numerous illustrations of it are to be found in Nature.

Being pure carbon, Diamond can be burned in the air. The finely divided dust can be burned in the ordinary blow-pipe flame, and for stones of ordinary size a temperature of about 900° C is sufficient. The possibility of consuming the Diamond by heat is said first to have been suggested by Sir Isaac Newton, who reasoned from the high refractive index of the stone that it was “an unctuous substance coagulated,” and hence probably combustible. Following this suggestion two Italians, Averani and Targioni, succeeded in 1695 in burning some Diamonds in a furnace, and since then the experiment has been repeated many times. The Diamond does not fuse in burning, but after becoming heated to redness gradually grows smaller, emitting sparks, till it entirely disappears. It leaves no ash except in the case of the impure form known as carbonado. The gas given off has been collected and analyzed and found to be carbon dioxide just as would result from the combustion of other forms of carbon. If protected from the air or free oxygen, the Diamond can be exposed to high heat without change.

Being a crystallized substance and excessively hard the Diamond is usually found in the form of more or less perfect crystals. These have forms such as the cube, octahedron, etc., which belong to the isometric system, and it is in this system that the Diamond crystallizes. The crystals do not possess, however, the highest isometric symmetry, but belong to the class designated by Groth as hexakistetrahedral, being tetrahedral with inclined face hemihedrism. It is very common for the faces to be curved instead of flat and to show etching figures of various kinds. The crystals are often considerably distorted so as to produce pointed and rounded forms, and twin crystals are common. Although so excessively hard the edges of the crystals as found in the beds of streams are often rounded from the wear of the other pebbles, probably chiefly quartz. Only the wear of centuries could produce such a result, however, for, as is well known, it is only with its own dust that the Diamond can be abraded to any appreciable degree by any of the means now used for cutting it.

First row:
Sapphire Crystal.
Diamond in Matrix (Brazil).
Cut Sapphire.
Second row:
Ruby Crystal.
Cut Ruby.
Third row:
Diamond in Matrix (South Africa).
Fourth row:
Bort.
Black Diamond, Carbonado (Brazil).
Fifth row:
Spinel Crystal, Rubicelle.
Spinel Crystal, Balas-ruby.

One important property of crystallized Diamond is that of cleavage parallel to the faces of the octahedron. This cleavage is of much service in preparing the gem for cutting, as by taking advantage of it, broad, flat surfaces can be obtained without grinding. This property also distinguishes Diamond from quartz, for which its crystals as found in sands are sometimes mistaken. Quartz has no cleavage. The fracture of the two minerals is the same, however, being conchoidal.

The massive forms of the Diamond known as bort and carbonado possess little or no cleavage, thus increasing their value as abrasives and for setting in drills, saws, etc. The true bort occurs as rounded forms made up of a confused aggregate of crystals and is harder than ordinary Diamond. Fragments of crystals of no value as gems or any crude Diamond dust are also known as bort in trade. Carbonado is a name given to black Diamond which has more or less crystalline structure. This graduates into the crystallized mineral. Either of these is more valuable than the crystallized Diamond for industrial purposes, although of no value as gems.

As already noted, Diamond occurs of various colors, about half the stones found being tinged to some degree. If the color is but slight, the stone is considered less valuable than if perfectly colorless, but a Diamond of pronounced color is the most valuable gem known.

Among colors of Diamonds, blue is the rarest. The largest and most valuable colored Diamond known is the Hope Blue, weighing 44½ carats. This is valued at about one hundred thousand dollars. It has a brilliant deep blue color and is without a flaw. A deep blue Diamond weighing 67-2/16 carats was long worn in the French crown, but it was stolen in 1792 and has never been recovered. Red Diamonds vary in hue from ruby red to rose, the latter being the most common. No large red Diamonds are known, the largest being one of 32 carats in Vienna. Another famous one is that in the Russian treasury, for which Paul I paid one hundred thousand roubles. It is of a ruby color. The finest green Diamond known is the “Dresden Green” preserved in the Green Vaults of Saxony. It was purchased by August the Strong in 1743 for sixty thousand dollars. It is apple green in color and weighs 40 carats. Diamonds of yellow color are comparatively common, many of the Cape Diamonds being lowered in value by possessing a yellow tinge. It is said that this injurious yellow tinge can be overcome by dipping the stone several times in a solution of potassium permanganate, the violet color of the latter neutralizing the yellow of the Diamond. The yellow tinge usually also disappears in artificial light. Of large Diamonds possessing a yellow color the Florentine and the Tiffany are the best known. The color of colored Diamonds is generally permanent, but that of some is said to fade on exposure to light. It can also be destroyed or changed by heat.

The luster of the Diamond is a peculiar one, and such as is possessed by few other minerals. In reference to its occurrence in the Diamond it is known as the adamantine luster. It combines the peculiarity of an oily luster with that of glass and that of a metal. It is doubtless due to the high refractive power of the mineral, which causes more than the ordinary number of rays of light to come to the eye. In the impure forms of Diamond the greasy or oily luster becomes more pronounced. Once the eye becomes accustomed to the peculiar luster of Diamond the stone may easily be distinguished by it from glass or minerals with a vitreous luster, such as quartz. Certain other minerals, however, such as cerussite, zircon, and to some extent sphene, exhibit the adamantine luster. In the glass known as strass, used to make imitation Diamonds, the adamantine luster is well imitated.

Diamond is usually transparent, but it may be translucent and even opaque, especially the black varieties. Even otherwise transparent Diamond often contains inclusions which cloud and interrupt its clearness. These constitute the “flaws” which so often injure the value of a Diamond and prevent it from being of the “first water.” These inclusions may be simply small cavities, sometimes so numerous as to make the stone nearly black, or they may be particles of other minerals, such as chlorite, hematite or carbonaceous matter. If the latter, the flaws can sometimes be burned out by careful heating.

As already remarked, the refractive power of the Diamond is very high. The rays of light entering it are bent at a high angle, causing a large degree of what is called total reflection within the stone. The effect of this is to light the stone’s interior. Moreover, the rays of light are concentrated on a smaller part of the surface than is the case with less highly refracting minerals and thus also internal illumination is produced. The most important result of the high refractive power of the Diamond is the wide dispersion of the spectrum, causing the red rays to be widely separated from the blue rays and strong lights of one color to be transmitted to the eye as could not be the case were the different rays less widely separated. It is this power of flashing different colored lights which gives the Diamond one of its chief charms. The index of refraction ranges from 2.40 for the red rays to 2.46 for the violet rays. Ordinary glass has an index of refraction for the red rays of only 1.52 and for the violet 1.54, making the spectrum only about half as long as that produced by the Diamond.

Another pleasing property of the Diamond is the fact that it is usually more brilliant by artificial light than by natural, although some individual stones have a reverse behavior.

Diamond is much the hardest substance known in Nature, and as the proverb says only the Diamond is able to “cut Diamond.” It is ranked 10 in the scale of hardness on which minerals are classified, corundum being the next below it. It is really separated by a wide gap from the latter mineral, however, and its hardness is as much greater than that of corundum as that of corundum is greater than that of the first mineral in the scale. This hardness of Diamond affords a ready means of identifying it, as it will scratch all other substances. It is popularly supposed that Diamond is the only mineral which will scratch glass to any extent, and a stone found is often reported to be Diamond because it will do this. As a matter of fact, however, all quartz will scratch glass and the harder minerals, garnet, topaz, beryl and others will do so easily. Minerals which will scratch glass are therefore common. The Diamond cuts glass instead of scratching it, and is the only mineral that will do this. Although the Diamond is so hard, it is not tough, and can be easily broken with the blow of a hammer. It was a tradition of the ancients that if a Diamond were put upon an anvil and struck with a hammer, both hammer and anvil would be shattered without injuring the Diamond in the least. One occasionally hears this statement made even at the present day. It is entirely untrue, however, the Diamond being as brittle as at least the average of crystallized minerals. The specific gravity of the Diamond is about three and one-half times that of water, determinations showing variations between 3.49 and 3.53. Carbonado is lower, ranging between 3.14 and 3.41. Diamond is thus a comparatively heavy mineral, the only ones among the gems which much exceed it in specific weight being hyacinth, garnet, ruby, sapphire and chrysoberyl.

Diamond becomes strongly electric on friction so that it will pick up pieces of paper and other light substances. It does not retain its electricity long, however, usually not over half an hour. It is not a conductor of electricity, differing in this respect from graphite, which is a good conductor. Diamond becomes phosphorescent on rubbing with a cloth, giving out a light which is visible in the dark. Some stones emit such a light after being exposed to the sun’s rays for a time, as if they took it up from the sun and gave it out again. This has often been stated to be a property of all Diamond, but this is not true, only certain stones exhibiting it. As first suggested by Mr. Geo. F. Kunz, it is probable that this phosphorescence is due to minute quantities of hydrocarbons which emit light on being heated by the friction given the stone. It is curious to note that the light is in some cases given out only from certain crystal faces of the stone. Thus Diamonds are known which give out light from the cubic faces but not from the octahedral, while others are reported as giving out light of different colors from different faces.

The name Diamond comes from the Greek adamas, which means unconquerable. This term was doubtless applied because of the great resistant power assigned to it by the ancients. Besides the well known tradition that it could not be broken by hammer and anvil, they believed that it could be subdued or broken down only when dipped in warm goat’s blood. Our words adamant and adamantine are also derived from adamas, the latter term still being used to describe the luster of the Diamond. The change of adamas into the word Diamond is thought by some to have come from prefixing to it the Italian diafano, transparent, in allusion to its possessing this property.

According to classical mythology the Diamond was first formed by Jupiter, who turned into stone a man known as Diamond of Crete, for refusing to forget him after he had ordered all men to do so. Many medicinal virtues were ascribed to the Diamond, it being regarded as an antidote for poisons and a preventive of mania.

The world’s supply of Diamonds has come almost wholly from three countries—India, Brazil and South Africa. Up to the beginning of the eighteenth century India was the only source of Diamonds known. The Diamond fields of India occur chiefly in the eastern and southern portions of the peninsula. The famed region of Golconda is in the southern part. This is the territory whence have come the most celebrated Indian stones, such as the Kohinoor and the Hope Blue. The French traveler Tavernier reported when he was there in 1665, that sixty thousand men were then employed in these mines. Now the mines have all been given up and the region is abandoned.

The present yield of Indian Diamonds comes almost wholly from mines in a district south of Allahabad and Benares. The Diamonds occur here, as universally in India, in a conglomerate or sandstone made up of the remains of older rocks.

The mines are worked almost wholly by natives of the lower caste, attempts of Europeans to conduct the mining not having met with success. The natives separate the Diamonds by washing, or where the rock is too hard for such methods, break it up by heating and throwing cold water upon it. The production of Diamonds from all of India is at the present time very small, not reaching a million dollars a year in value. It is likely in time to disappear altogether since most of the old mines have been abandoned and even their location forgotten and the returns from the present mines are not very profitable.

The Brazilian Diamond fields were the first important ones to become known after those of India. Diamonds were first found here in 1729 in river sands which were being worked for gold by adventurers who penetrated into the region from the coast. The gold miners paid no attention to the bright crystals sometimes seen in the bottoms of their pans, but a monk who had seen Diamonds mined in India recognized them as gems indeed. While for many years the Diamonds obtained came wholly from the river sands, later, upland deposits were discovered which now afford a part of the supply. Diamonds have been found in the following provinces of Brazil: Bahia, Goyaz, Matto Grosso, Minas Geraes and Parana. In all except Bahia and Minas Geraes the mining is desultory and consists simply in washing river sands by means of wooden bowls. Enough Diamonds are thus obtained to afford a precarious living to the garimperos, as they are called, who follow this occupation. The chief Diamond bearing region of Brazil at the present time is in the province of Minas Geraes, centered about the city of Diamantina. The black variety of Diamond known as carbonado comes chiefly from the province of Bahia and is in large demand for industrial purposes. The Brazilian Diamonds are as a rule small, but exceed all others in luster. The largest Brazilian Diamond known is that named Star of the South, which weighed in the rough 254.5 carats and was valued at one hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars.

As is generally known the chief source of Diamonds at the present time is South Africa. As in Brazil, Diamonds were first discovered here in the river sands and these still afford a small supply. These were first known in 1867, but in 1871 the deposits in place near Kimberley were found and these constitute today the world’s great Diamond mines. The mines now being worked are four in number, and all occur within an area hardly three miles square. Geologically the formation seems to be that of a filling of old volcanic necks by an influx of mud from below. It is this mud which now considerably hardened contains the Diamonds. The largest Diamonds of the world have been obtained from these mines, some exceeding the Kohinoor in size. Their quality is also generally good, although sometimes injured by a yellow tinge.

Besides the above countries, Diamonds have been found in Australia, the Ural Mountains, British Guiana and the United States. The finds have usually been in the beds of streams and are not of sufficient abundance to make systematic mining profitable. The localities where Diamonds have been found in the State of Wisconsin, in this country, are on the terminus of a moraine which came from the North, somewhere in the region of Hudson’s Bay. It is hence not improbable that the “mother lode” will some day be found there.

Finally it is interesting to know that Diamonds occur in meteorites, and hence doubtless exist in other worlds than ours.

Oliver Cummings Farrington.

INDIAN SUMMER.

With your hazy distances,
And your fine insistences,
Of russet, amber, brown,
From what region dost thou journey
Hither to our fields a-tourney,
Flinging thy dim gauntlet down?
Dost thou come from Southern seas?
Or from mountain fastnesses?

Ho, we call thee Indian Summer,
O thou late and languid comer,
Loitering our forest aisles;
Idling with the sunshine dreamy,
As with wandering a-weary,
Chary, ever, of thy smiles.
Thou hast come to claim the glamour
Of the dear, departed Summer.
—M. D. Tolman.

THE HORNED TOADS.

The Horned Toads form an interesting group of Lizards which are related to the iguanas of the tropical forests of America. They are, however, terrestrial lizards, inhabiting the plains of Southwestern United States and Mexico. Their short, broad and more or less flattened bodies, rounded heads and short tails give these animals quite a striking resemblance to the common toad. Hence their common name. In one respect, however, they are not at all like the toad. The head is armed behind with a row of quite formidable horny spines, and in some of the species shorter ones are also present on the top of the head and on various parts of the body. As these lizards are slow in motion, the horns constitute one of their chief means of defense. When in the presence of an enemy “the muzzle is depressed and the horns are elevated. The back is also arched.” The utility of the horns as a means of defense has been amply proven. The dead bodies of snakes have been found with the horns protruding through the skin of the body near the head. But this is not their only means of defense. From birds they are protected by their coloration, which is a somber mixture of brown, black and yellowish, and when quietly resting on sands or rocks in the open they quite closely resemble stones covered with lichens of varying shades of color. Abundant as they are in some arid regions of the Southwest, they frequently escape the notice of the observer because of their coloration. In such regions, too, they can take refuge beneath the protecting spines of the Agaves and the branches of the prickly Opuntias. Dr. Leonhard Stejneger considers the Horned Toads a most striking illustration of protective mimicry. Of one species he says: “In the cedar and pine belts of the San Francisco Mountains the dark color of the soil and stones covering the surface is closely matched by the ground color of the Horned Toad, while the greenish gray and orange-colored markings which somewhat irregularly adorn their backs are perfect imitations of the lichens covering the rocks and pebbles among which these odd looking creatures live. Near the rim of the Grand Canyon of the Colorado, on the other hand, the ground is covered with small pebbles of variously colored sandstone, ranging from a clayey white to brick red and dark brown, and the specimen which I collected there is such a faithful reproduction of the surroundings that it would undoubtedly have remained undetected had it not been moving. Even more remarkable are the specimens which Dr. Merriam collected in the black lava belt. One of these was brought to camp alive.” Dr. Stejneger made a careful study of this specimen and found that it had very closely imitated the color of the lava, including even its glossy appearance.

One of the most remarkable habits of at least one of the species, and possibly of all the Horned Toads, is the power of ejecting jets of blood from the eyes. This power is rarely exercised and seemingly only when greatly irritated. Professor L. M. Underwood relates the following instance, which also illustrates some of the other habits of the Horned Toads when angered: “In 1885 a student of mine received a specimen of Horned Toad from California. In examining the animal I took occasion to turn him on his back, using a lead pencil for the purpose. The animal resented this treatment and showed considerable anger, opening his mouth and puffing up his body. Irritating the animal still more, he grew more and more enraged, until finally blood spurted from just above his eye, which was fired at least a foot from the animal, as several spots struck my arm considerably above my wrist. After spurting the blood the toad became limp and collapsed, and remained in a stupor for some time, and, when handled, behaved as if dead. After a time, possibly not over five or six minutes, certainly not over ten, the animal revived and commenced to run about the table.” Irritating him again in the same manner, Professor Underwood caused the toad to go through the operation a second time, which was followed, as in the first instance, by collapse and stupor. “No amount of irritation could produce a third discharge, although the animal showed some anger.”

This habit of the Horned Toads has been observed by a number of scientists and it is said that the Mexicans have called them Sacred Toads, “because they wept tears of blood.” An examination with a microscope clearly shows that the ejected liquid is blood. As to the purpose of this habit, Dr. O. P. Hay says: “It appears to me quite likely that it is done in order to defend itself from the attacks of its enemies, although it would not seem likely that blood would hurt the eyes much. Nevertheless a discharge of blood into the eyes of some persevering bird or snake might so seriously interfere with its clearness of vision that the lizard might make its escape while the enemy was wiping its eyes.” One investigator, at least, has had the experience of having the stream of blood enter his eye. It was followed by pain which lasted for some time, but was relieved as soon as the blood was entirely wiped from the eye. Some inflammation followed, but soon it disappeared.

Unlike some of the other lizards, the Horned Toads are not provided with a protrusive tongue. This fact, together with their clumsy form, prevents them from preying on the more lively insects. They chiefly feed upon the beetles and other slowly moving insects that inhabit the region in which they live. The food is captured in the evening, and if undisturbed the toads remain quite passive throughout the day. In captivity they are interesting pets and if they will take food they bear confinement for a long time. “They not infrequently, however, starve themselves to death, though their capacity to live without food is marvelous.”

DOWN IN DIXIE-LAND.

One never has to travel very far from home to see something new and interesting; so I wonder if all of the readers know of the “frizzly chicken” which is so popular among the colored people of our southern states.

It is of ordinary size and like the rest of the chicken family, except that its feathers stand on end like the quills of an angry porcupine. It reminded me of a chicken perpetually blown before a March wind. Of course, their feathers become ragged and “frizzled,” like the hair of their proud possessors, and I imagine the motherly inclined do not find their sittings quite so comfortable as do our meek-looking hens.

As a rule, the negroes are very humane in their treatment of domestic animals. The dogs are treated as well as the children, and nearly every cabin door has a hole cut in it for the entrance and exit of the family cats. As the weather is seldom cold, these ventilators are really good for the larger inmates.

Lee McCrae.

MY BAT.

When I discovered the bat he was hanging by his hind feet, head downward between the blind and the window. I could not see him breathe and thought he must be dead, but he was only sleeping.

We closed the shutters of the blind as softly as we could, but it awoke him, and he began to wiggle and twist. He could not get away and we lowered the window from the top and grabbed the little fellow.

How he did scold and snap his jaws together! His little teeth were sharp and he tried his best to bite us.

We put him in a box and put a piece of coarse wire netting over the top.

Mr. Bat did not enjoy being made a prisoner, and did not quiet down until he found he could hang head downward from the netting.

He was quite a pretty little animal, his body being about two inches long, with soft, thick, reddish brown fur on its upper and under part and on his head. His eyes were small and dark, and his head looked like a tiny bear’s, but there was no hair on his ears.

His wings also were without hair and nearly black in color. When hanging by his hind legs he kept his wings folded tightly against his body.

The bat’s hind feet were very small, having five tiny toes with the smallest possible nails. By having one toe around the wire of the netting he could hold himself suspended in the air.

The little fellow’s mode of walking on the bottom of the box was very awkward. He would thrust forth the claw at the end of one of his wings and hook it into the box, then advance the hind foot and tumble forward, repeating the process with the opposite side, thus tumbling and staggering along, falling first to one side, then to the other.

If he wanted to hang from the netting he would reach up a hind foot and gain a foothold in the side of the box, then raise the other, thus climbing backwards until he could clasp the netting.

In the evening the bat got out of the box and was flying about the room before we knew he had escaped. He flew round and round in a circle, sometimes striking the walls of the room. His wings made considerable noise and he looked many times larger when flying.

We thought we should have to shut him up in the room until morning, but at last succeeded in catching him by hitting and knocking him to the floor with a coat, then throwing it over him.

The little fellow struggled and tried his best to get away, but it was no use. We put him back into the box and put a weight on the netting. He scratched around in the box and scolded all the evening, but he did not get away again.

The next morning I thought he would be hungry and tried to get him to eat and drink. He lapped a little water and a little milk out of a teaspoon, running out his tiny red tongue and making a little hacking noise.

He would not be tempted to eat a fly, shaking his head and spitting the flies out as fast as I could put them into his mouth.

As he would not eat we thought the little fellow would starve if I did not let him go. I waited until evening and took the box outdoors. He was hanging to the netting, and I took it off and turned it over so he could fly. He spread out his wings and away he went, glad to be at liberty once more.

I have looked every morning to see if the bat is hanging against the window, but have not seen him since I set him free.

Martha R. Fitch.

THE ATLAS MOTH.
(_Attacus atlas_.)

India is not only noted for its large and ferocious beasts, but also for its gorgeous flowers and beautiful insects. Among these is the splendid Atlas Moth, noted not alone for the extravagance of its coloring, but also for its immense size, for it is the giant of the moths and butterflies. The largest specimen recorded is now in the British Museum. Expanded and measured from tip to tip of the fore wings, it is only one-quarter of inch less than one foot. Measured in the same manner, the specimen of our illustration is a trifle over ten inches. The average expansion, however, is only about eight or nine inches. Its large size influenced Linnaeus to give this moth the specific designation of Atlas, the name of one of the Greek gods, by whom the pillars of heaven were supposed to be supported. In later years the word has been used in a figurative sense indicative of an ability to sustain a great burden. Truly no other name would be more appropriate, for the large wings of the Atlas Moth enable it to fly swiftly and to long distances, though its flight is somewhat erratic.

The larvae or caterpillars of this regal moth are fully as interesting and beautiful as the adult insect. They have a long, thick and fleshy body, which bears several rows of tubercles, crowned with spiny hairs. When young they are black with white spines, but afterwards become a rich green color and bear bluish-green or black spines. It is said that the larvae eat their skins after moulting and it has been suggested that the object of this habit is to prevent the cast off skins from indicating their presence to birds and other enemies.

The Atlas Moth varies considerably in the color of its wings and, when compared with the expanse of its wings, its body is very short. A peculiar and striking characteristic is the large and triangular transparent spot near the center of each of the four wings.

Among its allies are some of the most important of the silk producing moths of India, China and Japan, and the common emperor moth of England. Other species of the genus Attacus inhabit Central and South America, but they are much smaller and not as beautiful as the Atlas.

A BUTTERFLY.

Lazily flying
Over the flower-decked prairies, West;
Basking in sunshine till daylight is dying,
And resting all night on Asclepias’ breast;
Joyously dancing,
Merrily prancing,
Chasing his lady-love high in the air,
Fluttering gaily,
Frolicking daily.
Free from anxiety, sorrow, and care!
—C. V. Riley.

WHEN BILLIE CAME BACK.

Billie is the handsomest Flicker that comes to the grove of oaks on the north campus of the college and that is saying a great deal. For several years he has occupied a splendid house hollowed out with much labor in the great oak by the power house. Just above the portico of his house Billie has his xylophone. This remarkable instrument is just seasoned enough and has just the correct spring in its splinters. Here every morning, at this season, he beats a series of tunes, monotonous perhaps, but rather pleasing to Billie and me. After beating a tune, he screams at the top of his voice, “Get up; get up.” He is an alarm clock and a great nuisance to those who love their morning nap, but I would not allow him to be disturbed, he seems so business-like and earnest. My wife was disposed to disparage his musical attainments, but when she saw the marvelous rapidity of his strokes and the beauty of his red crest flashing in the slanting sunlight she became a partisan.

It should be said, of course, that after the brief season of courtship is over and Billie’s wife is busy about her housekeeping, he is less musical and we do not have our reveille so regularly.

Early last spring a pair of English sparrows took possession of Billie’s house and worked with a diligence worthy a better cause to fill it with sticks and bits of straw. I was interested at once and waited eagerly to see what Billie would do when he should return. I did not have many days to wait. One fine day I heard Billie hammering a gay tune. I watched and was soon rewarded. Billie seemed taken aback, but soon recovered from his surprise and proceeded to clean house at a great rate. Meantime the sparrows could do nothing but scold, and I confess to a degree of satisfaction in their discomfiture. For once the speckled little Ishmaelites were impotent.

Finally the last straw was thrown out and Billie perched upon the limb that served as a portico for his house, screamed with defiance and satisfaction. Soon he flew to a distant part of the grove in search of the future Mrs. Flicker, I suppose, and was gone for perhaps an hour. The sparrows worked desperately and had nearly all of the material replaced when Billie, disappointed in his quest and in no very good humor, returned. This time Billie’s patience was entirely gone and he threw sticks right and left, stopping occasionally to scream with anger. He seemed to know there would be little use in chasing the pesky sparrows. He did not go far from home after that, so that the sparrows were compelled to go house hunting elsewhere.

Billie mounted guard over his fireside and his altars for several days, treating us to a quantity if not a variety of drum solos, and the seductive notes of his cross cut saw of a voice were in constant evidence. He never knew the sorrow of the human performer of like merit when his best friends are willing for him to rest.

One fine day a demure looking female, attracted by his music, came and critically examined the house. I knew she was already won, but Billie did not, and it was amusing to watch his antics. Did you ever see a Flicker desperately in love? It was evidently love at first sight with Billie. He spread his wings, showed the jet black crescent on his vest, displayed the crimson glory of his crest, played his most catchy tune on the xylophone and sang his most melodious song. Meantime the coy female, already decided, still appeared to be unable to make up her mind. She made as if to go on, and Billie was in despair, and redoubled his persuasion. She had never heard such a tattoo, nor seen such a xylophone, nor yet so fine a fellow as Billie. Soon she stopped her pretended search for larvae under the loose bark and made another inspection of the house. She exemplified the maxim, “To hesitate is to be lost,” and soon she and Billie were busy with their housekeeping. The sparrows got no further chance to occupy Billie’s summer home. A happy family was reared and educated and in the autumn disappeared.

As I write Billie has returned and is beating a merry tune, while six or more sparrows sit around listening as if to learn how. Mrs. Flicker has not yet returned, but I believe the sparrows have given up the idea of taking his house. I am in doubt about Mrs. Flicker, but I know Billie. He is larger and handsomer than ever. I have studied his every beautiful feather. Sometimes I think he jumps behind a limb just to tease me, but I am fond of him and I hope he may return for many years.

Rowland Watts.

BEAUTIFUL VINES TO BE FOUND IN OUR WILD WOODS.
II.

A vine of great beauty in our autumn woods, with its great masses of scarlet berries, is the Celastrus scandens—Climbing Bittersweet or Wax-work.

It belongs to the order Celastraceae—Staff tree family—to which family belongs the wahoo or burning-bush, with which we are all familiar, from seeing its abundant red berries in the autumn woods and in the parks.

The flowers of the Celastrus or Bittersweet are small, greenish and regular, growing in clusters at the end of the branchlets, the staminate and pistillate forms usually on separate plants, which accounts for the fact that we often see a beautiful vine that has bloomed profusely bearing no flowers; the flowers have five distinct spreading petals, inserted with the alternate stamens on the edge of the disk that lines the base of the calyx. Its five united sepals form a cup-shaped calyx. It has five stamens, one thick style and a three-celled ovary, with three to six seeds. It can be found in full blossom about the first of June.

The leaves of the Bittersweet are from two to three and a half inches in length, simple alternate, slightly fine-toothed, and are found from egg shaped and oblong to the reversed of egg shaped, the apex always pointed, while the base is sometimes pointed and sometimes rounded. The fruit of the Bittersweet is about one-third of an inch in diameter, round and a deep orange color, three-celled with two seeds in each cell; when it is ripe, it opens into three parts, showing six bright scarlet berries within.

The Celastrus is a strong, woody climber, twining upon itself in coils and swirls, over fences and walls and bushes to great distances, often to the top of immensely high trees.

It is immensely showy and beautiful in the very late fall when its leaves are all fallen off and its woody branches are left thickly studded with its orange and scarlet fruit. I remember especially one Christmas eve, in Kentucky, that we gathered great bunches of it; we found it growing over an old stone ruin in great masses and gathering it, with large bunches of mistletoe, it made ideal decorations for our Christmas festivities.

J. O. Cochran.

COMPTIE.

When winter, with its blasting, icy hand, has touched every green thing exposed to its wantonness, and Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year’s and other feast days call loudly for the festive greenery with which to adorn churches, halls and dwellings, longing eyes are turned towards the Southland, where King Winter’s scepter is unknown and green things flourish the year around.

A walk through the dark hummuck woods—so dark that owls overhead hoot at one in the daytime—holds the naturalist and the florist spell-bound.

The numerous varieties of chirping and twittering birds, the many-hued spiders, lizards, bugs and beetles, and, yes, the wriggling snakes, with now and then the sounds of snarling ’coons or ’possums, the scream of a wild-cat, or the dashing by of the deer suddenly aroused from his noon siesta—all this makes the naturalist feel as though he had entered into an enchanted land; but he who loves “the green things growing” more than the things flying, creeping or snarling will feast his eyes on the ever varying verdure.

Tall palmettos, wide-spreading oaks, orchids, trailing vines and festooning mosses sweeping the greener mosses beneath, ferns, lilies!—but, ’twould fill a volume to enumerate the many beauties which meet the eye at even a single glance, each plant and flower in itself being worthy of a chapter.

There is one plant which especially attracts our attention and admiration; and this plant is one of the prettiest and most useful of the greeneries used for decorations in the far north in winter. It is called, variously, “Comptie,” “Coontie,” “Starch-root,” or “Indian-bread.” The two latter names are due to its large, bulbous root, which, when grated, makes a good starch, and which was also made, by the primitive Indians, into ash-cake, or bread—as Indians knew bread.

It is fern-like; but, unlike most ferns, it is of a sturdy, independent growth, bearing handling as well as cedar, yet with all the graceful pliancy of the more tender ferns. Its stems grow two or three feet long; the fronds on each side of the stem being three or four inches in length, and of a glossy dark green color. From one to two dozen such stems put out from a single stalk, growing up into the most graceful curves.

Seeds, deep crimson in color, and of the size of a chestnut, form in the center of the plant, and so compactly as to present one continuous bulbous form, the size and shape of a round quart bottle with part of its neck broken off. This crimson seed-form, surrounded by the dark green foliage, is, of itself, a pretty curiosity, more novel than a flower.

The reason why it is especially valued for decorations is, because it can be had at all seasons of the year, and retains its verdure for several weeks, even after it has been shipped long distances. Many of these plants, cut close to the ground, have been shipped from Florida to Canada, and have retained their fresh, glossy appearance for two months. Even without placing the stems in water, using them for motto work, they will last two or three weeks.

And this is but one of Florida’s novelties in plant life.

Mary Stratner.

THE RIVER PATH.

There’s a path beside the river,
Winding through the willow copse
Where I love to walk in autumn
Ere the season’s curtain drops.

On far hillsides beech and maple,
Touched by early nipping frost,
Have their brown and crimson jackets
To the boisterous breezes tossed.

Still the willow leaves are clinging,
Latest foliage of fall,
Shading yet my river pathway
Underneath the osiers tall.

On the wimpling water’s surface
Drift a million truant leaves,
Stolen from the woodland reaches
By the wind, the prince of thieves.

All along the river edges
Verdure’s turned to brown and gray,
Rustling through the dying sedges
Autumn’s low voiced breezes play.

Nowhere sweeter walk or rarer
Than my path beside the stream.
There I love to stroll in autumn,
There to loiter and to dream.
—Frank Farrington.

EGG PLANT.
(_Solanum esculentum_ L.)

The Egg-plant, also known as bringal, aubergine, egg-apple and mad-apple, is an herbaceous plant belonging to the Nightshade family (Solananæ), therefore kin to the potato and tomato. It is a tender annual, readily killed by the early frosts. It has rather large, simple, somewhat incised leaves. The fruits are large, egg-shaped, tomato-like in structure, hence berries.

It is quite extensively cultivated in gardens. The seeds are sown in hot beds early in April but transplanting is not done until about the first of June, when all danger of frost is past. The soil should be very rich and the plants set about three feet apart. Like most transplanted plants they require shading and watering for a few days. Careful cultivation is required during the entire season. Propping may be necessary to keep the large, heavy fruits from the ground. The Colorado beetle is a very annoying enemy of the growing plants and must be effectually fought to insure a crop.

There are several varieties of Egg-plant. The purple variety is by long odds the greatest favorite. There are also white and yellow varieties.

Most people consider the properly prepared fruit of the Egg-plant a delicacy. In some tropical countries it forms an important article of diet. The ripe fruit is prepared for the table by peeling and boiling. After boiling the fruit is sliced, seasoned and fried until well browned, in rolled crackers or bread crusts and a liberal supply of butter. When well prepared it is a very palatable article of diet but when insufficiently cooked or fried it is indigestible. It does not seem to be prepared in other ways nor does it seem to have any noteworthy medicinal properties.

Albert Schneider.

There comes, from yonder height,
A soft repining sound,
Where forest leaves are bright,
And fall, like flakes of light,
To the ground.

It is the autumn breeze,
That, lightly floating on,
Just skims the weedy leas,
Just stirs the glowing trees,
And is gone.
—William Cullen Bryant, “The Voice of Autumn.”

A MYSTERY.

I saw the wheat in billows roll,
A verdant ocean, stirred with joy,
It set a-throbbing in my soul
The madcap freedom of a boy:—
The blue sky bended far above,
A stagnant sea from pole to pole,
Clouds, like aerial ice-bergs, drove
On that still ocean, without shoal:—

The subtle spirit of the sky,
Alastor of my solitude,
Thrilled all my working pulses high
With visions of life’s magnitude—
(The wondrous vision of the whole!)
At once upon my startled eye,
Stood naked the primeval law,
Life’s noiseless currents eddied by,
The universal heart I saw,
Swayed by the cosmic oversoul.—