Domestic Pleasures, or, the Happy Fire-side Part 12

Remembrance and reflection -- how allied!

What thin part.i.tions sense from thought divide!"

"It is astonishing how completely some animals will accommodate themselves to circ.u.mstances. I will relate to you an anecdote which a friend of mine told me a few weeks ago."

"Pray do, dear mamma," said Ferdinand; "I quite enjoy an anecdote. I suppose it is true?"

"Yes, my dear, it is quite true," returned Mrs. Bernard: "the gentleman of whom I spoke, has a little monkey, which frequently affords him much amus.e.m.e.nt, by his sagacious, imitative tricks. As he was one day sitting near the pen in which the monkey was confined, he observed him making many ineffectual efforts to regain a nut which had rolled beyond his reach. After several vain attempts, he took up a stick, and with this he endeavoured to draw it towards him, but still without success.

Baffled, but not discouraged, he proceeded to select a second stick, from a bundle that lay beside him, measuring it against the one he had before found useless. With this longer twing he set himself again to his task. This proving aslo insufficient, he adopted the same plan in the selection of a third, and so on; always discarding the shortest, til he found one that was long enough to touch the nut. But this increased his difficulty, by rolling it to a still greater distance. Upon this he sat himself in a contemplative posture for a few minutes, as if considering what was best to be done in this emergency; when, hastily turning over the whole bundle of sticks he made choice of one of considerable length, and hooked at the end, by means of which he, with much apparent delight, accrued his prize."

"Well, that was a most capital contrivance," said Ferdinand; "and it puts me in mind of a clever plan which I saw our own dog, Brush, adopt yesterday. A bone that was thrown him, fell, like the monkey's nut, beyond the reach of his chain, and, finding he could not obtain it by means of his fore paws, he turned round, and throwing out his hinder legs, readily reached it, and drew it to his kennel."

Just as Ferdinand had concluded his story of Brush, his attention was caught by a beautiful dragon-fly, which flitted above his head. He hastily threw up his handkerchief, and took the insect prisoner.

"It is rather late in the season, is it not, mamma, to see these insects abroad?" said he, carefully unfolding his handkerchief, and discovering his prize. "Do look what a beautiful crature. Do they sting, pray?"

"No, my dear, but they bit sometimes, rather fiercely. Their bite, however, is perfectly harmless, therefore you need not look so much alarmed, Ferdinand. Examine its eyes. You perceive they are very large and prominent, covering almost the whole head. As it seeks its food flying in the air, this seems a very necessary provision. By means of these eyes, it can see in almost every direction at the same instant.

Dragon-flies are extremely voracious, and are the greatest tyrants of the insect tribe. When we think them idly and innocently flitting about in the cheerful sunshine, they are, in fact, only hovering up and down to seize their prey."

"Which are the insects upon which they particularly feed, mamma?"

enquired Ferdinand.

_Mrs. B There is none, how large soever, that they will not attack and devour. The blue fly, the bee, the wasp, and the hornet, are their constant prey; and even your favourite b.u.t.terfly is often caught, and treated without mercy. Their appet.i.te seems to know no bounds; and they have been seen to devour three times their own size, in the s.p.a.ce of a single hour.

"Oh, the greedy creatures; I cannot forgive them for destroying the pretty b.u.t.terflies," said Ferdinand: "to wasps and hornets they are perfectly welcome. Are they produced from eggs, like other insects, pray, mamma?"

"Yes, my dear: the female deposits her eggs in the water, where they remain some time, apparently without life or motion. The form they first a.s.sume, is that of a worm with six legs, much resembling the dragon-fly in its winged state, the wings being as yet concealed within a sheath peculiar to this animal."

"What do they feed upon in this state, pray, mamma?" enquired Louisa.

"Upon the soft mud and glutinous earthy substances that are found at the bottom," replied her mother.

"Pray, mamma, how long do they continue in their reptile state?" said Emily.

"For a whole year, my dear," returned her mother. "When they parepare to change to their flying state, they move out of the water to a dry place; such as into gra.s.s, to pieces of wood, stone, or any thing else they may meet with. There they firmly fix their sharp claws, and, for a short time, continue quite immovable. It has been observed, that the skin first opens on the head and back, and out of this aperture they exhibit their real head and eyes, and at length their six legs; whilst the hollow and empty skin remains firmly fixed in its place. After this the creature creeps forward by degrees; drawing, first its wings, and then its body, out of the skin; it then sits at rest for some time. The wings, which were moist and folded together, now begin to expand. The body is likewise insensibly extended, until all the limbs have attained their proper size. The insect cannot at first make use of its new wings, and is, therefore, obliged to remain stationary until its limbs are dried by the air. It soon, however, begins to enter upon a more n.o.ble life than it had before led at the bottom of the brook; and from creeping slowly, and living accidentally, it now wings the air, adorning the fields with beauty, and expanding the most lively colours to the sun."

"Well, my pretty fly," said Ferdinand, "you have afforded me much amus.e.m.e.nt, and now I will release you from your captivity." So saying, he opened his handkerchief, and gave his prisoner liberty.

In a few minutes they reached home, highly pleased with their morning's ramble.

CONVERSATON IX.

Mr. Bernard having dined from home, the children had not, till they met round the tea-table in the evening, an opportunity of telling him how pleasantly they had spent their morning, and how much information their mother had given them respecting the habits of the swallow tribes. "But even now," added Edward, "I do not feel quite satisfied with regard to their migration. Pray, papa, what is your opinion upon that subject?"

_Mr. B._ I am decidedly of opinion that they do migrate, my dear. The internal structure of such animals as continue during winter in a torpid state, is peculiar: both the formation of the stomach, and the organs of respiration, differ from such as are constantly in a state of activity and vigour. Mr. John Hunter, one of our most celebrated English anatomists, dissected several of these birds, but did not find them in any respect different from the other tribes; from which he concludes the accounts of their turpitude to be erroneous. Now, although I feel no doubt myself, that such instances have occurred, yet I by no means believe them to be frequent. Indeed, a particular friend of mine, a skilful navigator, tells me he has not infrequently seen, when many hundreds of miles distant from sh.o.r.e, large flights of these birds; and that his ship has often afforded the poor little travellers a most seasonable resting-place, in their toilsome journeys.

"Oh, well papa," said Edward, "if a friend of yours has really seen them, I can believe they do migrate; but I do not like to give up an enquiry, till my mind is satisfied upon a subject."

_Mr. B_. Within certain restrictions, your resolution is good, Edward; but if you can believe nothing but what I, or some friend of mine, can attest from our own observation, your incredulity will deprive you of much valuable information. The great advantage of reading is, that it enables us to gain instruction from the observation of others, on subjects beyond the reach of our own experience.

_Edward._ Very true, papa: but do you not think that many authors make mistakes, and put things in books that are not facts?

_Mr. B._ I do, my dear boy; and I always endeavor, when I meet with a difficulty, to consult a variety of authors upon the same subject, and, by this means, generally find I can discover the truth.

"In future I will endeavour to do so too, papa," said Edward, "and will not allow my doubts to prevent my improvement; for I am sure I am at present very ignorant. Every day, and almost every hour, I meet with something that I do not understand--something that surprises me. Papa, you have read, and thought, and seen so much, I should think you would never meet with any thing new."

_Mr. B._ Indeed, my dear boy, you are much mistaken; I seldom read any book without gaining from it some new idea, or some additional information upon a subject with which I was before but imperfectly acquainted. This very morning, for instance, in the book you saw me reading at breakfast-time, I gained information that was entirely new to me.

_Louisa._ Oh, pray papa, was it upon a subject we could understand, if you were to be so kind as to tell us?

_Mr. B._ Yes, my dear girl, I think you might understand it, if you were to pay attention to it; although it was a treatise upon comparative anatomy I was reading.

_Louisa._ Oh, then, papa, I am sure I could not understand any thing about it. I never heard of such a subject before.

_Mr. B._ Is that any proof that you will not understand it when you do hear of it, Louisa? Do not allow yourself to be frightened by a hard name, my dear; it is a proof of great weakness of mind. Edward, endeavour to explain to your sister the meaning of the word anatomy.

_Edward._ I believe, papa, it is the study of animal bodies; more particularly, their internal organization.

_Mr. B._ Yes and it also implies the dissecting, or cutting them to pieces, to ascertain the structure and uses of their several parts.

Well, Louisa, what do you now think of anatomy? You have been much pleased with your mother's description of the external structure and habits of the swallow, this morning; now pay the same attention to my account of the internal organization of the ostrich and ca.s.sowary, to- night, and I think you will find it quite within the limits of your comprehension.

_Louisa._ I will, indeed, attend, papa; and I hope I shall understand you.

_Mr. B._ The more minutely, my dear children, you investigate the hidden wonders of nature, the more firmly will you be convinced of the unlimited power, as well as infinite mercy, of its Supreme Author. The superintending providence of G.o.d, is as plainly manifested in the provision made for the meanest reptile, as it is in the wonderful formation of man. Each bird, beast, fish, and insect, is endowed with powers best suited to its wants, and most calculated to promote its enjoyment. In the ca.s.sowary of Java, a region of great fertility, the colon is no more than one foot long; whilst in the ostrich, doomed to seek its food in the wide and sandy deserts of the African continent, it is _forty-five_ feet in length.

"Pray, papa, what is the _colon?_? enquired Louisa.

"It is one intestine," replied Mr. Bernard, which converts the food into nourishment. You will now instantly perceive the wisdom of this arrangement. In the ca.s.sowary, the food pa.s.ses very quickly through this short channel, by which means, but a very small portion of its nutritive particles is taken into the system, and the bird is thereby preserved from many diseases, to which it would be liable, if the whole of the food it devoured were converted into fat and nourishment. The ostrich, on the contrary, who can gain but a slender supply of food in the desolate regions which it inhabits, is provided with a colon so long, that every particle of nourishment is extracted, before it has pa.s.sed this channel; hence, the latter derives as much actual support from her slender supply of food, as the former does from her abundance.

_Louisa_. Thank you, papa. I understand what you have told us, quite well, and think it a very curious and a very wise contrivance.

_Mr. B._ Now then, tell me, in your turn, Louisa, how history has gone on since we last met.

_Louisa_. But, papa, we have not yet concluded the account of our walk.

Had we not better finish one subject first?

Mr. Bernard agreed to the propriety of Louisa's remark, and she entered with great animation upon the description of the beautiful little cottage, the pretty, innocent cottager, the nice, neat old woman, and the bashful-looking youth, and concluded by expressing her sorrow, that Mary and Henry could not be married; because she was such a pretty creature, she had no doubt they would make the happiest couple in the world.

Mr. Bernard endeavour to explain to Louisa, that beauty was by no means the only requisite in a companion, where happiness was the object.

"Oh, no! I know that, papa," returned Louisa; "I recollect that Mrs.

Horton told us, that the peac.o.c.k, beautiful as it is, has but few really amiable qualities; but I cannot help admiring pretty people, and if you saw Mary, I am sure you would admire her too; for she looks so good- humoured and so modest, so cheerful, so industrious, and so very pretty, papa, that you could not help loving her. Don't you think so, mamma?

_Mrs. B._ I think there certainly is something very interesting in her appearance, and, I a.s.sure you, Louisa, I am quite disposed to think favourably of her; but we shall have an opportunity of seeing more of her, probably, and then we can form a more decided opinion of her character. There is always danger in giving way to a sudden prepossession in favour of a stranger.

_Edward._ But, mamma, do you think it possible not to feel a prepossession in favour of such a sweet-looking girl as Mary?