The Project Gutenberg eBook ofNatural HistoryThis ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.Title: Natural HistoryAuthor: Francis L. HawksRelease date: December 6, 2013 [eBook #44377]Most recently updated: October 23, 2024Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by Chris Curnow, Christian Boissonnas and theOnline Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net(This file was produced from images generously madeavailable by The Internet Archive)*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NATURAL HISTORY ***
This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.
Title: Natural HistoryAuthor: Francis L. HawksRelease date: December 6, 2013 [eBook #44377]Most recently updated: October 23, 2024Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by Chris Curnow, Christian Boissonnas and theOnline Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net(This file was produced from images generously madeavailable by The Internet Archive)
Title: Natural History
Author: Francis L. Hawks
Author: Francis L. Hawks
Release date: December 6, 2013 [eBook #44377]Most recently updated: October 23, 2024
Language: English
Credits: Produced by Chris Curnow, Christian Boissonnas and theOnline Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net(This file was produced from images generously madeavailable by The Internet Archive)
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NATURAL HISTORY ***
The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.
The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.
Uncle Philip Talking to the BoysUNCLE PHILIP TALKING TO THE BOYS.
UNCLE PHILIP TALKING TO THE BOYS.
J.&J. Harper. New-York.
UNCLE PHILIP'S CONVERSATIONSwith Young Persons.
Uncle Philip's Conversations
NEW YORKJ. & J. HARPER 82 CLIFF STṬ.1833.
WITH NUMEROUS ENGRAVINGS.
NEW-YORK:PUBLISHED BY HARPER & BROTHERS,NO. 82 CLIFF-STREET.
1835.
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1835,ByHarper & Brothers,In the Clerk's Office of the Southern District of New-York.
We must tell our little readers something about this number of their Library. It was sent to us by a very kind old uncle of ours, who, when we were young, was so much from home, visiting various places in the world, that we do not remember seeing him very often at that period. At last, the old man, finding that he could not bear fatigue as he had done when young, determined to come home; and we had heard so much about him that we were quite anxious to see him. He came to our house one evening, and appeared rather odd to us; but he was so good-natured, and told us so many curious things, that we soon forgot his odd appearance.
The old gentleman brought home with him a very large number of books, and a great many strange things which he had gathered in his travels, such as stones, and dried insects, and leaves, and flowers, and stuffed birds, and animals. He did not stay with us long, but went to the village where he wasborn, and built a small house to which he carried all his books and curiosities, and said that he should spend the rest of his days there.
We sometimes pay him a visit. The last time we were there, we found him talking to several children around him. In the beginning of the book there is a picture of the old gentleman. After you have looked at it, you may read the letter which he sent us, and learn how he came to write this book.
Your friends,The Publishers.
My dear Nephews,
I was very much pleased to receive the numbers of your Library for Boys and Girls which you sent to me. You know I am now an old man, and have travelled a great deal, and seen a great many strange things in the course of my life. I am too old to travel any more, and so I am quietly living in the cottage I built by the side of that pleasant and shady little stream where I played when I was a boy. I read my books, and especially that best of all of them, my Bible; and so am patiently waiting till my Heavenly Father shall call me to take my last journey; when I hope, for the sake of the blessed Saviour, to go to Him. Sometimes I walk out into the village, and meet the children and have a long talk with them. They all know me; and very often, some of them will come to my house, and ask me to tell them about things which I have seen in my travels or read of in books: and so I spend many happy hours with the little creatures; for youknow how much I love children. When I had read the books you sent to me, I lent them to the children, who were delighted; and I thought that if I should sometimes write down what we here talked about, it might please the little boys and girls for whom you print your books, and perhaps they might learn something from our conversations which would be useful: and so I determined to send them to you, from time to time, to print, if you pleased.
If you think fit to print what I send, just tell your little readers who I am; an aged and quiet old man, who is very fond of little boys and girls, and wishes them to be wise and good here, and happy hereafter, and that I am your
Uncle Philip.Newtown, Feb. 1833.
P.S. If you print what I send now, please to print the Preface to Parents, which I also send; in order that they may, by reading it, see what sort of a book Uncle Philip has been making for their dear children, and may be satisfied that it will not harm them to read it.
The author of the following book avails himself of the opportunity afforded by its publication, to address a word to those who sustain the delightful and responsible relation of parents.
To such of that class as may honour by a perusal this humble attempt to interest and instruct their offspring, the author need not say that the subject of his book possesses for himself peculiar attractions: it will readily be perceived that he has found a charm in the pursuits of the naturalist. The votary of a favourite science would anticipate too much, should he expect every one to partake of the enthusiasm which is apt to stimulate him; it is wisely and kindly ordered that we shall not all be enthusiasts in the same direction. The author, however, still ventures to hope, that in his subject there is enough to attract, though it may fail to fascinate. He hopes, too, that it will be found not attractive merely, but profitable also to his young countrymen. There are many reasons on which to found sucha hope. If to entertain reverence for our Maker, to admire and adore his wisdom and goodness in the illustrations of nature, thankfully to acknowledge and duly to improve the superiority which mind confers, be exercises in which a wise parent would desire to train a child,—the study of natural science is admirably adapted to the attainment of these objects. Again, if it be desirable to encourage habits of patient observation, accuracy of investigation, and soundness of thought; let the volume of nature be opened before the youthful mind. If to learnthingsbe better than to learnwords, it is important to place things before the growing intellects of the young. Let it not be supposed that to present matters of science intelligibly to the minds of children is a hopeless task. It requires not learning or maturity of understanding to perceive afact; it needs only the ordinary senses which God has bestowed alike upon children and their parents. Natural science is emphatically the science offacts; built upon any other foundation it becomes conjecture merely: and he knows but little of the mind of a child who is not aware of the facility with which a fact is impressed upon it. The secret of instructing the young will be found to consist more in the mode of communication than in the nature of the subject.
As to the style of this work a word may be said; not, of course, for the purpose of disarming criticism (for truly the writer has never supposed his trifle worth the critic's labour or notice), but simply to remark, that the object has been to write for the minds ofchildren; if the book be intelligible to them, the utmost ambition of Uncle Philip will be attained. Truth and plainness were all he sought. The first he believes he has attained; and to determine his success in attempting the last, he turns from the parents, and looks for the decision of the question to the suffrages of the children. He would rather hear the expression of satisfaction from the lips of one intelligent little reader, than receive the words of approbation from many who are elders; the first is testimony derived from experience, the last is but opinion. Children always know better than any one else does what books they understand.
In conclusion, the author owes it to himself to say to the parents of his young countrymen, and to the patrons of the "Boy's and Girl's Library," that what he has written will be found on the side of religion and morals. So far as these important points are concerned, the writer is not ashamed to avow himself a Christian; nor yet does he mean to make it the subject of boasting. In his simple view, Christianity is a very quiet and gentle thing,which eschews strife, and promotes practical goodness; and truly can he say, that he has indulged in some of his happiest and, as he trusts, his holiest musings when, in the solitary pursuit of his favourite science,—to use the language of good old Izaak Walton, that simple-hearted lover of God, and all his works,—"he has looked upon the wonders of nature with admiration, or found some harmless insect to content him, and pass away a little time, without offence to God, or injury to man."
Uncle Philip tells the Children about a Fly that can work with a Saw and a Rasp, like the Carpenter.
"Well, boys, this is a beautiful day. The sun is shining brightly, and the birds are singing, and the insects are flying about, and the grass is green, and every thing appears pleasant, and you feel happy too, and have come, I suppose, to see old Uncle Philip."
"Yes, Uncle Philip, we are tired of playing now, and so we have come to ask you to talk with us, and tell us about some of the curious things you know."
"Well, boys, I will tell you about some very strange things. I will talk to you aboutanimals that know how to work with tools like a man."
"Work with tools, Uncle Philip! That is strange; but we know it is so, if you say so; because you will not tell us any stories but true ones. But where do they get the tools?"
"Ah, boys, 'the hand that made them isdivine!' They get them where we get all that is useful and good,—from God. The Bible says that He 'is wise in heart, and wonderful in working;' and he has made many a poor little insect, and given it tools to work with for its comfort, as good and perfect as any that man can make. Yes, these poor little creatures had tools long before man had. God cares for the insects, boys, as well as for us."
"But, Uncle Philip, what sort of tools do you mean? Tell us about them."
"Very well, I will; do you think of some kind of tools that men use: think of the carpenter and his tools, and let us see if we cannot find some of them among the insects."
"Why, the carpenter has a saw. Is there any saw among these little fellows?"
"Yes indeed, there is; and a capital sawit is. Now listen, and I will tell you all about it. There is a kind of fly called thesaw-fly; it has four wings, and commonly its body is yellow, and its head is black; but the most curious part of it is the saw. The young ones feed upon the leaves of rose-bushes, and gooseberries, and raspberries, and currants, and several other kinds of bushes; and the old ones always lay their eggs on the branches of these bushes, so that the young ones may have something to eat as soon as they come out. It uses its saw to make a place in the branch to put its egg in."
"Uncle Philip, what is the saw made of?"
"It is made of something like horn, and is fixed very nicely in a case; it resembles what the cabinet-makers call atenon-sawmore than it does the carpenter's common saw. The tenon-saw is made of a thin plate of steel, and has a stiff brass back, to keep it from bending. The brass back has a groove in it, and the saw is put in that groove, and then it is fastened to it. But the fly's saw is fixed in another way: there is a back to it too, but that back is not fastened to the saw. The groove is in the saw, and there is a ridge all along the back-piece, which just fits in thegroove, and so the saw slides backwards and forwards, and the ridge always keeps it in its place. Besides all this, boys, the fly is better off than the cabinet-maker, for he uses only one saw at a time; but our little workman has two exactly alike, and they are so fixed that the creature first pushes out one, and when it is drawing that back, pushes out the other; so that it is all the time cutting, and does double work. I think the fly's saw is the best, too, for another reason. The saws of the carpenter and cabinet-maker have their teeth bent; first, one a little on one side, and then the next to it a little on the other side, and so on to the end of the saw; so that when sawing, the cut may be wide enough for the blade to move easily. Now the fly's saw has the teeth a little bent, or twisted, too; but it has something else: on the outside of every tooth there are a great many very small teeth, so that the outside of every one is just like arasp, orfile."
"But, Uncle Philip, it must take them a great while to saw a very little cut; they are so small."
"Yes, it does; but they persevere. It takes them more than an hour and a half to makeone groove, and sometimes they will go on and make as many as six without stopping. That shows, boys, what perseverance will do."
"And when it is done sawing, Uncle Philip, where does it keep its saws?"
"Oh, I told you they fitted in a case; but when the fly is done sawing, it uses the saws to put the egg in the place cut for it, and then it draws the saws almost entirely into the case, and drops upon the egg a sort of frothy stuff like a drop of soap-lather."
"What is that for?"
"I suppose it is to glue the egg fast, or else to keep the juices in the bush from hurting it."
"Well, this is a curious fly, Uncle Philip."
"It is strange, boys, because you never heard of it before; but it is a cunning fly, as well as a curious one."
"What does it do, Uncle Philip?"
"Why, when it is frightened, it will fold up its case and saws under its body, and draw up its legs, and pretend to be dead; and then it will not move, even if you stick a pin through it."
"Can you tell us any thing more about this fly?"
"Nothing very strange, boys; but we have found outtwotools, I think, a saw and a rasp, and that is enough for one poor little fly to give us. Here, boys, are pictures of these saws; I have made them a great deal larger than they are in the fly, so that you can see them plainly."
Saw of the Saw-flySaw of the Saw-fly, with Rasps shown in the Cross-lines.
Saw of the Saw-fly, with Rasps shown in the Cross-lines.
Saw-fly's comb-toothed RaspPortion of the Saw-fly's comb-toothed Rasp, and Saw.
Portion of the Saw-fly's comb-toothed Rasp, and Saw.
Uncle Philip tells the Children about Grasshoppers and Bees, that bore Holes with a Gimlet.
"Well, Uncle Philip, here we are again, to hear more about the tools that animals work with; we have seen in the bark of trees, and old wooden posts, little holes as round as a gimlet could make, and we have been thinking whether any of these little creatures have augers and gimlets, as well as saws. Do you know of any of them that can bore holes?"
"Oh yes, boys; I know of more than one that can bore as smooth and round a hole as any carpenter you ever saw. There are some of the grasshoppers that have an excellent gimlet. The contrivance has five pieces in it; two of the pieces make a case to keep the augers in, two more are the augers or borers, and the other is a piece between the two borerson which they slide; this piece has a ridge on each side of it, and the augers have a groove which exactly fits the ridge. Besides this, each auger ends in a knob, and that knob has teeth all around it. Here is a picture of it."
Ovipositors, with filesOvipositors, with files, of the Grasshopper, magnified.
Ovipositors, with files, of the Grasshopper, magnified.
"But, Uncle Philip, what is the piece with the ridge for?"
"Ah, boys, that piece shows the wisdom and the goodness of God. 'His tender mercies are over all his works:' he has placed that piece there to keep the borers stiff, so that they cannot get out of joint, or be broken, when the little workman is boring."
"Well, this is very curious."
"Yes; but there are some of these insect workmen more curious still. Did you ever see a spy-glass? You know it is a round, hollow piece of wood, with brass tubes in it, which are made smaller and smaller, so as to slide into one another, when the glass is not used. Now there is a sort of gadfly (she is a little creature, too) which has exactly such a contrivance to keep her gimlet in. It is in four pieces, and the smallest piece ends in five sharp points, three of which are longer than the other two: she twists these five sharp points into one piece, and as some are longer and some shorter, when they are all put together, they make a sharp edge running all around, and are almost exactly like an auger or gimlet. When she wants to use it, she just shoots out the different tubes, so as to make a stem for the gimlet; and when she is done, she puts all back into its case again.
"Here is a drawing of it, and I think that by looking at it you will understand what I have been telling you: I do not know whether men learned from this part of the fly how to make the case of a spy-glass; but I know they might have learned.
Ovipositor or Gimlet of the GadflyOvipositor or Gimlet of the Gadfly, greatly magnified, with a claw and part of the tube, distinct.
Ovipositor or Gimlet of the Gadfly, greatly magnified, with a claw and part of the tube, distinct.
"There is also a bee, boys, which is called thecarpenter-bee, because it is such an excellent wood-borer. It commonly looks for some old post, or dry plank, or withered part of a tree, to work in. It never works in wood that is green and has the sap or juices in it; for the bee knows, just as well as any carpenter does, that it is very hard to get tools through such wood. I expect that you have seen sometimes, when an old post or dry board was split, a long hollow groove in the middle of it,with little round thin pieces of something like paper, about as thick as a wafer, fastened in it by their edges, one above the other, all the way through. These show the work of the carpenter-bee: she bored the hole, and she put those little partitions like paper in it, to separate the cells; and more than that, she made the partitions out of the dust she got by boring. She always likes, too, to get a piece of wood in a place where the sun can shine on it; and when she has made her choice, she begins to bore at first into the post in a slanting direction, and as soon as she has gone far enough in, she then turns and bores straight, with the grain of the wood."
"Does she do it quickly, Uncle Philip?"
"Not very quickly, for sometimes the wood is very hard; I have seen one of these holes nearly twelve inches long in a very hard oak board. Sometimes she has to work at it for months; but she works steadily, boys, and that does a great deal. What makes it more tiresome is, that the poor little creature has to bring out all the dust she makes by boring."
"How large is the hole?"
"Oh, large enough to put my forefinger in, and sometimes fifteen inches long. After she has bored it as deep as is necessary, she beginsto divide it into separate cells. So she commences at the bottom, and puts in a quantity of what is called bee-bread, until it reaches about an inch in height; on the top of this she lays an egg, and the bread is put there to feed the young one as soon as it comes out of the egg. She then makes a floor over it out of the dust, as I told you; she knows how to glue this dust together, and she brings it grain by grain from the heap in which she put it when she first brought it out: and she always begins by gluing the dust around the outside of the hole she has bored, and then glues another ring to that, and then another, and another, making each ring smaller and smaller, until she has it all filled; so that her floor, when it is done, appears like a parcel of rings of smaller and smaller sizes placed within each other. On the top of this floor she puts bee-bread, as before, and places another egg on it, and then covers it with a floor again; and so she goes on making cells and filling them with bread, and covering each with a floor, until she has filled up the hole."
"Uncle Philip, how do the young bees get out when the egg is hatched? It seems as if they were shut up for ever in prison."
"No, boys; there is a way for them to getout, and it shows the wonderful wisdom of God in teaching this poor bee how to contrive the matter. The egg which is put in the lowest cell being the oldest, the little worm that is afterward to be a bee will come out of that one first: now, you know, he never could get through all the cells over his head, filled as they are with bee-bread, so as to come out at the top of the hole. If he gets out at all, then, it must be at the bottom. The old bee knows this, and she so arranges these eggs that when the worm comes out it will be with his head pointed downwards; he falls to eating his bread, and so eats himself down to the bottom of his cell, and there he finds that his mother has bored a hole from his cell to the outside, and through that he comes out. When his brother in the cell above him has eaten his way down to the bottom of his cell, he just eats through the floor and gets into the cell below, which is then empty, you know, and walks out at the same hole which his older brother used before him. And so all the rest one after another eat their way downwards into the empty cells below them, and get out at the same back-door, which their mother made by what we call herinstinct,which just means the share of wisdom which God gives to the lower animals to show them how to take care of themselves."
Post tunnelled by carpenter-beesA, represents a part of a post, tunnelled in several places by the violet carpenter-bee; the stick is split, and shows the nests and passages by which they are approached.C, a piece of thin stick, pierced by the carpenter-bee, and split, to show the nests.D, perspective view of one of the partitions.E, carpenter-bee.F, teeth of the carpenter-bee, greatly magnified;a, the upper side;b, lower side.
A, represents a part of a post, tunnelled in several places by the violet carpenter-bee; the stick is split, and shows the nests and passages by which they are approached.C, a piece of thin stick, pierced by the carpenter-bee, and split, to show the nests.D, perspective view of one of the partitions.E, carpenter-bee.F, teeth of the carpenter-bee, greatly magnified;a, the upper side;b, lower side.
"Why, that instinct, as you call it, Uncle Philip, is a curious thing."
"Very curious, very curious indeed, boys; and at some other time, if you wish, we will talk more about it, and I will tell you a great many stories of animals, which will show you their instinct. But for this time I have told you enough to keep you thinking until we meet again. So now just look at this picture of the carpenter-bee's house, and then you may go home."
Uncle Philip tells the Children about Animals that are Tailors.
"Uncle Philip, we are very glad to see you, and we think we have found out something to ask you, about a kind of work which men do, that no other animal can accomplish. As we came along this morning to visit you, and were talking of what you had told us of insects that, like carpenters, could saw woodand bore holes in it, we passed by the tailor's shop, near the church; 'and now,' said we, 'we have found out something which will puzzle good Uncle Philip: there are surely no tailors among the lower animals; so we will ask him to-day to talk about creatures that can cut out cloth and sew it up with a needle.'"
"Ah, my dear children, there are a great many things which would puzzle Uncle Philip. I do not know every thing; nor do I suppose that I can findeverytrade in the world among the dumb creatures which God has made. But you have made a bad choice of a puzzle this morning, my boys; for there are tailors among the inferior creatures, and some pretty nice ones, too; at any rate, they always cut so as to fit exactly."
"Why, Uncle Philip! You do not mean to say that they can cut outcloth, and then sew it up again with a needle and thread!"
"No, boys; I do not think it is to be expected that they should take a pair of shears and cut a piece of cloth, or put a piece of thread through the eye of a steel needle; any more than we expect the insect that saws, to go to the cabinet-maker, and borrow his toolto work with. But with the instruments which God has given to them, they will cut what is cloth to them, the leaves of trees and flowers, and will sew them together too: and, now I think of it, there is one that will cut his garments out of our cloth."
"Pray let us hear about them, Uncle Philip."
"Softly, boys, softly. I have two things to say to you before I begin. In the first place, I am very glad to hear that you think and talk among yourselves about the things which I tell you: and in the next place, I know that you loveme, and, therefore would not wish, bypuzzlingme, as you call it, to produce mortification or vexation; nor do I think that I should have felt either vexed or mortified had I not been able to find tailors among the lower animals; but I do not wish you to take pleasure in puzzling people; for it is very apt to produce in you a feeling of triumph, and to make you vain: and you must remember that foroneof your questions which cannot be answered, athousandmight be put to you, of the answer to which you would be ignorant. No man, my dear boys, knows every thing. Wise men talk with each other, thatthey may learn from each other; and the wisest are not ashamed to acknowledge their ignorance of some things; and I believe they take very little pleasure in puzzling. It is our duty to learn all that we can, and to be always willing at a proper time to teach others what we know."
"Thank you, dear Uncle Philip, for your advice. We did not mean to triumph overyou, if you had not been able to tell us of tailors among the animals. But we see that you are right. We might get a foolish habit, which would do us harm."
"Exactly what I meant, boys; and now let us begin. And first we will talk of the cutting out, as the tailor always does that before he sews. There is a kind of bee[1]which, like some of the insects we have already spoken of, is furnished with a borer. With this she forms a round hole, like that made with an auger or gimlet, in a hard-trodden path, or sometimes in a piece of soft decayed wood. It is in making her nest in this hole that she plays the part of a tailor, for the nest is made of leaves, sometimes taken from the rose, at others from the birch, ash, or othertrees. The little creature cuts them commonly, and I believe always, into two shapes. They are either half-oval, that is, half the shape of the bowl of a spoon, or round, and are of different sizes. Sometimes she makes a mistake in the size, and when she finds it out, she alters it. These leaves are prepared to line the hole which she has bored, and she begins with the largest pieces; taking them into the hole, she winds around in it, until she has spread very smoothly a tube of leaves the whole length of it; she then closes up one end of it by rounding it off and doubling the pieces of leaf one over another. In this case she sets about making hercells. She takes three of her half-oval pieces which have been cut to fit, and contrives to roll them, so that the edge of one piece will just lap over the edge of the next; these, when she has finished rolling them, make the hollow of the cell, which is not quite an inch high. She next turns up the ends of these pieces, which are cut to fit, so as to form the bottom: she then sets to work with three other pieces rolled in the same way inside of the cell just finished, turning up their ends as before to form the bottom; and within these she againworks three others, so that her cell, when it is done, is of nine thicknesses of leaves. And you see why, though she cuts the pieces of the same shape, they are not all of one size: they are of three sizes, so as to make the cells within each other smaller and smaller."
"But, Uncle Philip, you have not said any thing about the round pieces which she cuts; how does she use them?"
"I will tell you: after she has finished one cell she lays an egg in it, and fills it all round with food nearly liquid; now as the cell is lying down on its side, all this liquid food would run out if it were not corked up, and the bee therefore uses her circular pieces to stop up the cells."
"And does she really make these round pieces to fit the cell?"
"Yes, boys, exactly; and they are cut too as regularly as if they had been first measured and marked with a pair of compasses. And, more than this, the little creature will fit one in in less than a minute. But the most curious thing is, that sometimes she will fly off to a distance to get this round piece, and bring back one which will exactly suit; so that it really seems as if she carried the size in herhead. After finishing one cell she will make another, until she has completed as many as she wants; and then, as she always builds them one upon another, they appear like a parcel of thimbles stuck into each other and put into a case: and here is a picture of it."
Rose-leaf-cutter BeesRose-leaf-cutter Bees, and Nest lined with Rose-leaves
Rose-leaf-cutter Bees, and Nest lined with Rose-leaves
"This is very wonderful, Uncle Philip; and it does seem like cutting out pieces to fit."
"Very true: but this is not the only cutter-out of leaves among the bees. There is another kind, called the poppy-bee,[2]because it uses the scarlet leaves of the poppy-flower to line its cell. It makes its hole in the ground, as smooth and regular and polished as can be, and then proceeds to line it all around with pieces of the leaves, and cuts them to fit as she goes on. If a piece is too large she will trim it down to the proper size and shape, and always carries away the scraps. Now if you should take a pair of scissors and try to cut the leaf of a poppy-flower, you would wrinkle it, but this little workman will spread out what she cuts as smooth as glass. When she has lined this hole throughout, and carried the lining out beyond the entrance, she fills it with honey andpollen, or bee-bread, as it is called, about half an inch high, lays an egg, then folds down the leaves on it, and finally fills the upper part with earth."
"Then she was not working for herself?"
"No; she was providing a house for her young, and God has taught her thus to take care of it.
"I will now tell you of another little workman,which I have heard called the cloak-maker, because it makes for itself a mantle which really appears very much like a cloak; and, stranger still, this cloak is lined throughout with silk."
"Can it be possible, Uncle Philip?"
"Listen, and you shall hear. These mantle-looking cases are made by thelarva, as it is called, or grub of a little moth which forms a covering of pure silk; this silk it spins from itself; it is not woven so as to appear like our silk, but still it is real silk, and is worked into a great many thin scales, which lap over one another like the scales of a fish. But this is only the lining of the cloak. This little tailor is the field-moth, which first eats what it wants from a green leaf, and then, from the thin membranes left, sets about making its mantle: and it makes it of two pieces cut out and joined together with a seam, just as a tailor would make it."
"How does it go to work, Uncle Philip?"
"Why, I will give you the account as it was given by a gentleman[3]who was very fond of observing insects, and who watched one of these little creatures. He says that from thethin membrane of the leaf it first cut two pieces just equal in size and of exactly the same shape; each of these pieces was to form one-half of the cloak, and this he says was done wonderfully fast. He noticed, too, that one end of each piece, that which was meant for the bottom of the cloak, was just twice as long as the other end, which was the top. The insect then placed itself between the two pieces while they were lying flat; it afterward brought the two sides where the seam was to be, together, and fastened them at certain places, still leaving, however, considerable spaces open. It then began to turn and twist its body about in all directions, until it moulded the pieces into a hollow form to fit. When it found that it would fit its body, it brought the edges of the seam close together through the whole length, and contrived to sew or fasten them so neatly together, that when the gentleman looked, even with a magnifying-glass, he said he could hardly find the seam. The whole was lined with the silk spun from itself, and was finished in about twelve hours."
"Why, this little workman is the strangest of all: but, Uncle Philip, you said there wasone of these animal tailors that cut his garment out ofcloth: pray tell us of him."
"When I said that, boys, I was thinking of the clothes-moth.[4]They make their coats of wool commonly taken from our cloth, and silk drawn from their own mouths; and the strangest thing concerning them is, that when they outgrow their clothes they will piece them to make them larger. Suppose the insect wants it longer, it adds a new ring of wool to the end: suppose it wants it wider, it slits the case or garment, not from one end to the other, for this would leave it naked, but it splits it half-way down the sides, and when it has filled it in with proper pieces, it splits the remaining half, and puts other pieces in them. There is another curious thing about this tailor: it always makes its coat of the same colour with the cloth from which it takes the wool; so that if it has first made its garment of a piece of blue cloth, and is placed on a bit of red cloth when it wishes to enlarge it, you will see its work exactly, for the pieces which it puts in will be red. This is the little fellow, boys, which does so much mischief to our clothes."
"Well, Uncle Philip, one can almost forgive his mischief for the sake of his ingenuity. But you have said nothing yet aboutneedles; how do these little creatures sew?"
"Why, they have what serves as a needle to them: but I can tell you of another animal which sews with a needle a great deal plainer to be seen than that of these little insects."
"Pray let us hear of him, Uncle Philip."
"I must go among the birds to find this workman. There is a kind of starling, called the orchard starling,[5]about which, Mr. Wilson, a gentleman who has written a great deal concerning the birds of our country, gives a very curious account. He says that this bird commonly hangs its nest from the twigs of an apple-tree, and makes it in a very singular manner. The outside is made of a particular kind of long tough grass, that will bend without breaking, and this grass is knit or sewed through and through in a thousand directions, just as if done with a needle. The little creature does it with its feet and bill. Mr. Wilson says that he one day showed one of these nests to an old lady, and she was so much struck with the work that she askedhim, half in earnest, if he did not think that these birds could be taught todarn stockings? Mr. Wilson took the pains too to draw out one of these grass threads, and found that it measured thirteen inches, and in that distance the bird who used it had passed it in and out thirty-four times."
"Why, this was sewing, sure enough."
"Yes; and I saw, when I was in the West Indies, another kind of starling[6]which will cut leaves into a shape like the quarter of an orange-rind, and sew the whole very neatly to the under side of a banana-leaf, so as to make one side of the nest. But, boys, there is another most beautiful little bird, which is called the tailor-bird, because it sews so well.[7]It first picks out a plant with large leaves, then it gathers cotton from the shrub, and with the help of its fine long bill and slender little feet it spins this cotton into a thread, and then using its bill for a needle, it will sew these large leaves together to hide its nest, and sew them very neatly, too."
"Why, dear Uncle Philip, this is the most wonderful tailor of them all."
"He is, indeed: but, my children, what dowe learn from all that I have been telling you? Who made these little creatures with such curious skill, and taught them to work so well? It was the same God who made us; for such wonderful things never came from what people callchance. Chance, boys, never made any thing: and how very wise he must be to form such nice little workmen; and how very good thus to teach them how to take care of themselves. The Bible says, truly, that 'his tender mercies are over all his works.' And I think, boys, we may learn another thing: it is, not to be so very proud of what we know; for I rather suppose that we shall often find that the lower creatures around us understood many of our trades long before we found them out."
"Yes, Uncle Philip, it is likely that these little fellows you have been telling us of this morning were the first tailors in the world."
"Very likely, very likely indeed, boys. But now I must bid you good morning; for here comes our good clergyman, and I am going with him to see a poor sick woman."
"Good morning, Uncle Philip; we will come again on Saturday."