—Courtesy of "Boys' Life".Copyrighted, 1918, by "Boys' Life", The Boy Scouts' Magazine.
All begin at the same moment. You may take thirty seconds to prepare to tell this story.
All begin at the same moment. You may take thirty seconds to prepare to tell this story.
An American private spied a rooster prowling around a farm house in No Man's Land just after the Americans had captured Very. Being hungry, and having an appetite for roast chicken, this American private decided to crawl up on the rooster and trap him in the building.
The American was about to lay his hands on the astonished rooster when a German entered the rear door of the building bent on the same mission. Both were so surprised that they stood for a moment and glared at each other, then the American motioned for the German to do a right flank on the prey they were after and both closed in on him. The rooster was captured by the American, who later returned to the American lines with both rooster and German in tow.
Later, at the regimental P. C., the German roasted the chicken for his captor, who shared it with him.
—Association Men.
Here is one of the beautiful Greek myths that everyone is supposed to know.Try to read it so carefully in five minutes that you can tell it from start to finish without being questioned or prompted. Your teacher will let two or three of you tell the story. Perhaps some of you can do it well enough to tell it to one of the lower classes in the school.
Here is one of the beautiful Greek myths that everyone is supposed to know.
Try to read it so carefully in five minutes that you can tell it from start to finish without being questioned or prompted. Your teacher will let two or three of you tell the story. Perhaps some of you can do it well enough to tell it to one of the lower classes in the school.
In the ancient days in Greece, people believed not only in the great gods and goddesses, such as the god of the sea, the god of the sun, the goddess of the moon, or the goddess of the harvest, but also in many less important beings who took care of smaller things in the world of nature. In every river lived a god, for whom the stream was named. The woods were full of fair maidens called nymphs, whom mortal eyes could not see. They had various names, according to the particular objects which were their care. The nymphs who lived each in her own tree were calleddryads; those who dwelt in the springs and brooks werenaiads; while those whose home was in the rocks and hills wereoreads.
Of all the mountain nymphs, or oreads, the most beautiful was a maiden named Echo. She was one of the troop of maidens who followed and attended Diana, the goddess of the woodlands. Echo was very faithful to all her tasks, devoted to her mistress, and beloved by all her companions. Her one fault was that, like many another girl, she was too fond of talking. Her tongue ran all day long. It did not matter whether or not she had anything important to talk about; talk she must. The other nymphs were used to it, and didn't pay much attention; indeed, they hardly listened to her, a thing which often happens to people who neverknow when to stop talking. But Juno, the queen of the gods, one day grew so tired of Echo's ceaseless chatter that she condemned her to lose her power to speak, except to repeat the words of someone who spoke to her.
This was hard enough when it meant simply that the maiden could no longer talk to her companions. If you have ever had so severe a cold that you have lost your voice for a day or two, you know how many things you think of that you want to say simply because you are unable to say them. That was poor Echo's case, only it was to last forever instead of for a few days. But far worse than this was to happen to the unfortunate maiden. One day, not long after she had lost her tongue, as we say, she saw for the first time the beautiful youth Narcissus, son of one of the river gods. From that moment Echo's heart was gone as well as her voice, for she fell in love immediately. But alas! how could she let him know it? She could not speak at all, except to mimic his last words whenever he spoke. And his words did not at all express the feelings which she wanted to utter. For instance, when Narcissus, who did not care anything about the lovesick Echo, and who was anxious to get away, cried to her, "Let us leave one another," she answered with all her heart, "One another," and tried to hasten after him. But he could not or would not understand, and did not wait for her.
At last Narcissus, who you can readily see was not as kind as he was beautiful, growing utterly weary of having the forlorn nymph pursue him, said rudely to her, "I cannot bear to come near you." "Near you," repeated Echo with all her heart, ready to fling her arms about his neck.
"Hands off!" he cried, starting back. "I would rather die than thou shouldst have me." "Have me," pleadedthe unhappy Echo, but all in vain. The cruel youth would have nothing to do with her. From that time on she withdrew herself from the company of the other nymphs, and wandered alone in hidden caves and among the remotest cliffs of the mountains. Gradually she faded away till there was nothing left of her but her voice, which still repeated the last part of any sound she heard. Sometimes when you are in the woods or mountains, if you call aloud, you will hear your own voice seeming to come back to you like an answer. It is not your voice, you see, but that of the unfortunate oread; so we call the sound that rings and rolls along in answer to our voices, by the maiden's name, Echo.
Perhaps you would like to know what happened to the unkind Narcissus. Echo was not the only maiden whom he scorned. He avoided all the nymphs, for the only person whom he really loved was himself. As time went on he loved himself more and more, especially as he saw the reflection of his own beautiful face in the water. He spent his days stooping over the deep, still pool that made the best mirror. He talked to his own image in the still surface; he tried to embrace it, stooping so far over that he almost fell in. But the mirrored face made no response to all his pleadings. He was being well paid for his treatment of Echo. At last, in despair because his love was not returned, he pined away and died of a broken heart. Like other people who love themselves best, he got no happiness from his vanity and selfishness.
Perhaps you are wondering why the youth whom Echo loved bore the name of our delicate white spring flower. It is because that flower first sprang up from the ground on the spot where the beautiful Narcissus was buried.
—Mabel Dodge Holmes.
Before you begin to read this selection, look up the wordreclaim.This is a good selection for outlining. You can write four or five topics that will cover the substance of the piece.Your teacher will keep track of the time it takes each of you to read the selection and make your outline.
Before you begin to read this selection, look up the wordreclaim.
This is a good selection for outlining. You can write four or five topics that will cover the substance of the piece.
Your teacher will keep track of the time it takes each of you to read the selection and make your outline.
There are some learned people who tell us that a great many years ago the island which we call England, Scotland, and Wales was one with the continent of Europe. They say that the sea gradually made its way through a stretch of low-lying land, till at last Great Britain was completely cut off from the continent. We all know that the Eastern counties of England which face the little country of Holland are just as flat and marshy as the opposite shores. The farmers and laborers in these countries are continually endeavoring to make good pasture-land of the unhealthy marshes and fens, as they are called, and each year sees acres of land reclaimed and turned to good use; but also each year a little land is stolen from these counties by the greedy sea. The patient Dutch people on the other shore are carrying on the same kind of work. They make wonderful dykes and drive the sea always a little further and further back; and though much of their country is actually beneath the level of the sea, they jealously guard the treasure they have captured, with so much perseverance and energy that the tyrant sea is kept in subjection. Of course, as the land lies lower than the water, the natural result would be that the water would flood the land unless it were kept out by an embankment; and this wonderful little nation, so brave and daring as to defy the sea, have surrounded their land with dykes, which are huge bankstowering above the lowlands of the country, and preventing the sea from obtaining entrance. Of course, these dykes could be made only gradually as the sea was turned from one spot to another by dams and locks, and these facts will give you a far better proof than any other I could find of the wonderful character and the great courage and perseverance of a nation which has reclaimed its fatherland from the sea.
You will not be surprised to be told that such a land is very damp and misty. All the surface is cut up by innumerable canals. If you could see the whole country from a height, it would look like an enormous puzzle. It consists of hundreds of green patches cut up by the waterways, and decorated with red-roofed villages and towns. Through all of these canals flows the same water; all of them are connected with one another. Here and there the canals are wide, and bear much traffic on their placid surfaces. Through miles of green fields wander little baby canals, draining the pasture-lands, and bravely carrying barges which drift slowly in single file from one busy centre to another.
There are plenty of railways, but the trains are generally slow, and in many places the land perceptibly gives way as the heavy train presses it, so most of the conveyance is done on the canals.
It is still part of the everyday life of Holland to reclaim the stretches of mud and marsh from the sea. When this has been done, the land is first enclosed with a dyke to prevent any water flowing into it. On the edge of this dyke wind-mills are erected, each of which works a pump. You remember how every picture of a Dutch landscape shows a country dotted with windmills with wide-spreading arms and sails. As the mills draw up the water, it is dischargedinto a canal, which takes it to the sea. Only fifty years ago, an immense piece of submerged land called the Haarlem Lake was drained and rendered fit for cultivation, and one of the favorite projects of certain Dutch ministers is the draining of the Zuyder Zee, an enormous stretch of water of which you have certainly heard, and which once must have been dry land.
When I traveled in Holland, one of the greatest discomforts which I experienced was the want of good drinking water. The Dutch people are used to it, and drink a good deal of tea and coffee; but both are taken so strong and so bitter, that, even if made with the purest water, they would be undrinkable for you and me. Once, when I was staying in a tiny village called Volendam, I had taken a little crying child home to his mother, whom I knew. She wanted to wash his face which I could hardly see through dirt and tears, and from where do you think she drew her water? She lifted a loose board in the floor of her room, and there, immediately underneath, was a canal which passed under her house. The house was built on piles over the water, and the whole family used this dirty water for everything—to wash in and to cook with and to drink. Besides much dirt, there were two or three tiny fish in the bucket that she took up when I was there, and when I asked her if she filtered the water at all for drinking, she shook her head, not understanding the reason for anything of the kind. So I told her how much better it would be for her and her family if she boiled the water before drinking it; but she replied that she thought this would take away all the taste. Just imagine wanting your water to taste of dirt and fishes!
—From "A Peep at the Netherlands",by Beatrix Jungman.
Here is an article from a cyclopedia for schools. The farther you go in school, the more frequently you will need to consult such books. In such cases you should learn to turn quickly to the part of this article you want without reading it all through. Sometimes the topic you are looking up will be the same as one of the headings in the book. Often it will not. Instead of reading the whole article, however, you will generally be able to judge what heading is likely to cover your topic.
If you don't find what you want, keep looking. For example, if you wished to find more about wheat, oats, poultry or cattle you would turn to other volumes of this cyclopedia and read the special article on the subject you were seeking.
Your teacher will assign different individuals or different sections of the class one or more of the following topics covered in this selection. Of course you will not think that you have in this brief selection anything like a complete discussion of each of these topics. You will, however, find something interesting about each of them.
1. How much time it takes to raise a bushel of corn.2. How barren areas can be made productive.3. Four causes of progress in agriculture.4. Four different kinds of agriculture.5. Where America raises her cereals.6. What agriculture does for each of us.7. Good roads and the farmer.8. Things the farmer has to fight.9. Truck farming.10. Where animals thrive.11. Agriculture experiment stations.12. Changes in agriculture methods.
1. How much time it takes to raise a bushel of corn.
2. How barren areas can be made productive.
3. Four causes of progress in agriculture.
4. Four different kinds of agriculture.
5. Where America raises her cereals.
6. What agriculture does for each of us.
7. Good roads and the farmer.
8. Things the farmer has to fight.
9. Truck farming.
10. Where animals thrive.
11. Agriculture experiment stations.
12. Changes in agriculture methods.
Agriculture is the art of cultivating the soil to produce material for feeding and clothing the human race. It is the oldest of all occupations. "The first farmer," says Emerson, "was the first man, and all historic nobility rests on possession and use of the land." Agriculture is also the mostwidely-extended of all occupations, and it lies at the foundation of all other industries. Daniel Webster once said, "When tillage begins, other arts follow. The farmers, therefore, are the founders of civilization." Unless man were fed and clothed the race would perish.
Illustrating its Importance.
Mr. and Mrs. Adams with their children, John, aged 14, and Mary, aged 12, lived in the city. Like many other city children, John and Mary knew but little of the country, and did not seriously consider farming or anything connected with it. Their father and mother, however, had come from the farm, and they decided to help John and Mary to obtain correct ideas of the country and of a life such as they lived in their younger days.
"John, where did this bread come from?" asked Mr. Adams, at dinner.
"Why, mother bought it at the baker's, I suppose."
"Very well, but where did the baker get it?"
"Oh, I know," said Mary, "he makes it."
"But what is it made of?" continued the father.
"There is flour in it," said John, "and water, and—and—lots of other things."
"A boy never knows anything about cooking; let me tell," said Mary. "Bread is made of flour, water and yeast and—what else do they put in it, mother?"
"I don't see as you know much more about it than I do," said John.
"You children can learn how to make bread some other time," said Mr. Adams; "I want to know where the baker got his flour."
"He bought it of the wholesale grocer," replied John.
"Well, where did the grocer get it?"
"That is about as far as I can go," said John. "I have often wondered where all the things we eat come from, but I have so many things to study in school that I don't have time to read about anything more."
"Well," replied the father, "suppose we make a little study of these things at dinner. Let us begin with the bread. What you and Mary have said is true, but we need to look into the subject a little further, if we would know the real source from which we obtain bread and all other articles of food. The real source of all these is the farm, and were it not for the farmers all the people who live in the city, as we do, should soon be without food."
"Why, I never thought of that before; I never supposed the farmer amounted to much, anyway," said John. Mary expressed a similar idea, and both asked their father to tell them about those common articles of food which we all eat without giving a thought to the source from which they come or the labor required to prepare them for our use.
During the next few days Mr. Adams took the children on a number of imaginary journeys. With him they visited in fancy the great wheat fields of the Dakotas and Canada, the corn belt in Illinois and Iowa, thecattle ranches of Texas and Montana, the fruit orchards of the Pacific states, the dairy farms and creameries of Wisconsin, the sugar plantations of Louisiana, the beet farms of Michigan and Colorado, and the poultry farms near some of our great cities. Then he took them to far-off lands—to the coffee plantations of Brazil, the tea gardens of Formosa, the rice plantations of China and the spice groves of India.
Before these imaginary excursions were ended, John and Mary learned that everything they ate, except salt, came from a farm in some part of the world and that agriculture was carried on in every country. But Mr. Adams did not stop here. In the same delightful way he led the children to the study of cotton, flax, wool, and silk, so that they were convinced that we depend upon the farm for what we wear as well as for what we eat. In their minds the farmer at once became a very important individual.
Progress of Agriculture.—Agriculture began when the first man selected plants for his food. His next step was to scratch the ground with a stick and plant seed. Then he took a forked stick and made a plow of it. Two or more men hauled this plow while another held it in position. But this labor was too hard, so man tamed the ox and the ass and made them do the hauling and the carrying of his burdens, as well. From these simple beginnings, agriculture has advanced through the centuries until to-day traction engines haul over our great wheat fields gang plows that turn more than fifty furrows at a time. Later these same engines haul over the fields of ripened grain a machine which at one operation harvests, thrashes and sacks the grain ready for market—does everything, one humorist says, except to cash the check for the crop.
Such has been the progress in agriculture since the middle of the last century that the labor of producing a bushel of wheat with the most modern appliances has been reduced from a little over three hours to about ten minutes. Formerly it required four and one-half hours' labor to produce a bushel of corn; now it requires less than forty minutes. Then, it took thirty-five and one-half hours' labor to grow a ton of hay; now, it takes eleven hours and thirty-four minutes. But this is not all. Production has been increased many fold; new and better varieties of grains, vegetables, fruits and live stock are being constantly produced; the use of agricultural machinery has enabled the farmer to give more attention to the business side of his affairs, and the best farms are now operated on a systematic plan which includes both the fields and the home.
Causes of Progress.—While the progress of agriculture may seem to have been slow, it has advanced about as rapidly as other arts. The more rapid advance of recent times is due chiefly to the following causes:
Transportation.—It is of no advantage to the farmer to raise crops that he cannot market; therefore, good roads form one of the most essential conditions to his success. Of thesethe country has far too few, but railways have become so numerous that most farms are now within a few miles of a station if not directly on the railway itself. Increased facilities for marketing his crop have greatly increased the farmers' production.
Machinery.—The machines which have done most towards the progress of agriculture are the harvester, or reaping machine, the gang plow, the seeder and the horse hoe. What these have accomplished in reducing the cost of production is told in the preceding paragraph. Without these inventions cultivation of the large farms in the Prairie states and the Canadian provinces of the Northwest would be impossible. Many other machines have also contributed their share. Among these are the steam thrasher, the traction engine, the gasoline engine, and the cream separator. Moreover, we must not forget the improvement in the simpler farm implements such as the hoe, the spade, the rake, and the ax, which, by being made lighter and of better material than in the long-ago, have enabled those using them to do more work with less expenditure of strength.
Chemistry.—The application of chemistry to soils, plants, and fertilizers lies at the foundation of scientific agriculture. The farmer can now learn from the nearest agricultural experiment station what fertilizer is best suited to his soil and what crops he can grow with greatest success. Agricultural chemistry is now applied to the study of soils, of plant food and of fertilizers wherever there is an agricultural college.
Education.—Not many years ago the average farmer was glad to express his contempt for what he styled "book farming". Happily, that day is past, and agricultural education (see subheading, below) now occupies an important position in the educational systems of all civilized countries. In the United States and Canada the demand for graduates from agricultural colleges and high schools is greater than these institutions are able to supply. Furthermore, the outlook for supervisors and teachers of agriculture is so promising that young men from the city constitute no inconsiderable portion of the student body of these institutions. This is the beginning of a right sort of movement from the city to the country, and it is increasing.
Scientific Agriculture.—All the foregoing movements have combined to make agriculture a science as well as an art. The influence of the agricultural colleges and experiment stations extends to the remotest regions, and everywhere the trained scientist is helping the farmer to solve his problems and to make his farm more profitable. No longer can the old hit-or-miss methods maintain themselves in competition with the scientific methods of the "new agriculture", which in the near future will not only render productive vast areas still barren, but also reclaim the so-called "worn-out farms" and repopulate with prosperous families those which have been abandoned.
Prevention of Disease.—The application of scientific methods to the study of those diseases of plants andanimals which are ever robbing the farmer of his profits constitutes one of the most important contributions of science to agriculture, and is saving annually millions of dollars to the farmers. While not all of these diseases are conquered, many of them have been; the ravages of others have been checked, and new victories are gained each year.
Insect Pests.—What has been said about the study of disease applies with equal force to the study of destructive insects. These pests also deprive the farmer of a portion of his income every season, and, now and then, they destroy his crop altogether. Through the discoveries made by the Department of Agriculture at Washington and in Canada by the same department of government, and at the various experiment stations, we are now able to deal successfully with these pests on the American continent.
Branches.—Agriculture is so widely extended over the earth and so varied in its industries that it is naturally divided into a number of branches. While many farmers are interested in several of these branches, each gives special attention to one or two. The farmer in the corn belt, for instance, makes corn the chief product of his land, but he must give enough attention to growing other crops and to dairying to produce sufficient food for his family and live stock, unless he would purchase this food at an expense considerably greater than would be required to raise it. Likewise, the dairy husbandman must raise most of the feed for his herd to make his business profitable.
The following are the chief branches of agriculture in America:
Raising Cereals.—In some regions the soil and climate are especially suited to raising cereals. For instance, Canada, Minnesota and North Dakota are adapted to raising spring wheat, and this constitutes their chief crop. On the other hand, Kansas is especially suited to raising winter wheat. Illinois and Iowa are the great corn states, because of the particular adaptation of the soil and climate of the corn belt to the production of this cereal. The growing of cereals is more widely extended than any other branch of agriculture.
Other Crops.—In some of the Northern states having a cool climate and in Southern Canada, flax is extensively grown on new soil. Potatoes are also successful in these regions. Oats is an extensive crop throughout the northern half of the United States and in most of the Canadian provinces. In Texas, Georgia, South Carolina, and a number of the other Southern states, cotton constitutes the chief source of revenue. Fodder crops, including corn for ensilage, clover, timothy and alfalfa, are also of great importance in those localities where live stock is raised or dairying is the chief line of agricultural industry.
Horticulture.—Horticulture is that branch of agriculture which includes the raising of flowers, garden vegetables, and fruit. The growing of vegetables and other garden produce for market is usually calledtruck farming, and this branch of horticulture is very common near largecities and in those localities where soil and climate admit of raising two or more crops a year. The raising of fruit is probably the most extensive branch of horticulture, particularly in those regions which depend upon irrigation for their supply of water. All forms of horticulture are intensified farming—that is, the thorough cultivation of small tracts of land that is highly fertilized.
Live Stock.—Some localities are especially adapted to raising live stock. Iowa and Illinois, for instance raise large numbers of hogs, which are fattened on corn. Iowa also raises beef cattle. Kentucky is noted for its fine horses; Montana, Wyoming, and several other states contain extensive grazing lands where thousands of sheep find pasturage, and in Texas beef cattle are raised in large numbers.
Dairy Husbandry.—Sections of the country having a cool climate, an abundance of pure water, and soil adapted to growing alfalfa and other ensilage crops are suited to dairying, and this branch of agriculture is of great importance in those states.
Poultry.—The proceeds from the poultry raised in the United States exceed those received from the wheat crop; strange as this statement may seem, the hen is a mighty asset. Some poultry is found on nearly every farm, but there are numerous small farms which are devoted entirely to raising chickens, and when rightly managed, they prove a profitable investment.
—From "The World Book".Courtesy of W. F. Quarrie & Co.
Here is another little nonsense test. Be sure that you do exactly as the test directs.
Here is another little nonsense test. Be sure that you do exactly as the test directs.
At the top of your paper copy the longest of these three words: boy, noise, trouble—and then, if there are more than seven letters in the word that you have just written, write the figure 7 underneath the word, but if not, do not write anything but pass on to the next paragraph.
If you think that Christopher Columbus used an ocean steamer to discover America make three crosses at the bottom of your paper, but if you think he must have used a canoe make only two crosses. Now no matter whether there are five days in the week or not, write five days in the center of your paper, sign your first name below it and hand in your answers.
Read the poem through as fast as you can, but not so fast as to fail to get the full meaning. When all have finished, your teacher will ask you to write the story the poem tells.It will be interesting to keep track of the exact time it takes each of you to read the poem and to see whether those who read it more quickly tell the story better than those who read more slowly.Can you take in every word without speaking, whispering, or moving your lips?
Read the poem through as fast as you can, but not so fast as to fail to get the full meaning. When all have finished, your teacher will ask you to write the story the poem tells.
It will be interesting to keep track of the exact time it takes each of you to read the poem and to see whether those who read it more quickly tell the story better than those who read more slowly.
Can you take in every word without speaking, whispering, or moving your lips?
No stir in the air, no stir in the sea,The ship was as still as she could be,Her sails from heaven received no motion,Her keel was steady in the ocean.Without either sign or sound of their shockThe waves flow over the Inchcape Rock;So little they rose, so little they fell,They did not move the Inchcape Bell.The good old Abbot of AberbrothokHad placed that bell on the Inchcape Rock;On a buoy in the storm it floated and swung,And over the waves its warning rung.When the Rock was hid by the surges' swell,The mariners heard the warning bell;And then they knew the perilous Rock,And blest the Abbot of Aberbrothok.The sun in heaven was shining gay,All things were joyful on that day;The sea-birds scream'd as they wheel'd round,And there was joyance in their sound.The buoy of the Inchcape Bell was seenA darker speck on the ocean green;Sir Ralph the Rover walk'd his deck,And he fix'd his eye on the darker speck.He felt the cheering power of spring,It made him whistle, it made him sing;His heart was mirthful to excess,But the Rover's mirth was wickedness.His eye was on the Inchcape float;Quoth he, "My men, put out the boat,And row me to the Inchcape Rock,And I'll plague the priest of Aberbrothok."The boat is lower'd, the boatmen row,And to the Inchcape Rock they go;Sir Ralph bent over from the boat,And he cut the bell from the Inchcape float.Down sunk the bell, with a gurgling sound,The bubbles rose and burst around;Quoth Sir Ralph, "The next who comes to the RockWon't bless the Abbot of Aberbrothok."Sir Ralph the Rover sail'd away,He scour'd the seas for many a day;And now grown rich with plundered store,He steers his course for Scotland's shore.So thick a haze o'erspreads the skyThey cannot see the sun on high;The wind hath blown a gale all day,At evening it hath died away.On the deck the Rover takes his stand,So dark it is they see no land.Quoth Sir Ralph, "It will be lighter soon,For there is the dawn of the rising moon.""Can'st hear," said one, "the breakers roar?For methinks we should be near the shore;Now where we are I cannot tell,But I wish I could hear the Inchcape Bell."They hear no sound, the swell is strong;Though the wind hath fallen, they drift along,Till the vessel strikes with a shivering shock;Cried they, "It is the Inchcape Rock!"Sir Ralph the Rover tore his hair,He curst himself in his despair;The waves rush in on every side,The ship is sinking beneath the tide.But even in his dying fearOne dreadful sound could the Rover hear,A sound as if with the Inchcape Bell,The fiends below were ringing his knell.
No stir in the air, no stir in the sea,The ship was as still as she could be,Her sails from heaven received no motion,Her keel was steady in the ocean.
Without either sign or sound of their shockThe waves flow over the Inchcape Rock;So little they rose, so little they fell,They did not move the Inchcape Bell.
The good old Abbot of AberbrothokHad placed that bell on the Inchcape Rock;On a buoy in the storm it floated and swung,And over the waves its warning rung.
When the Rock was hid by the surges' swell,The mariners heard the warning bell;And then they knew the perilous Rock,And blest the Abbot of Aberbrothok.
The sun in heaven was shining gay,All things were joyful on that day;The sea-birds scream'd as they wheel'd round,And there was joyance in their sound.
The buoy of the Inchcape Bell was seenA darker speck on the ocean green;Sir Ralph the Rover walk'd his deck,And he fix'd his eye on the darker speck.
He felt the cheering power of spring,It made him whistle, it made him sing;His heart was mirthful to excess,But the Rover's mirth was wickedness.
His eye was on the Inchcape float;Quoth he, "My men, put out the boat,And row me to the Inchcape Rock,And I'll plague the priest of Aberbrothok."
The boat is lower'd, the boatmen row,And to the Inchcape Rock they go;Sir Ralph bent over from the boat,And he cut the bell from the Inchcape float.
Down sunk the bell, with a gurgling sound,The bubbles rose and burst around;Quoth Sir Ralph, "The next who comes to the RockWon't bless the Abbot of Aberbrothok."
Sir Ralph the Rover sail'd away,He scour'd the seas for many a day;And now grown rich with plundered store,He steers his course for Scotland's shore.
So thick a haze o'erspreads the skyThey cannot see the sun on high;The wind hath blown a gale all day,At evening it hath died away.
On the deck the Rover takes his stand,So dark it is they see no land.Quoth Sir Ralph, "It will be lighter soon,For there is the dawn of the rising moon."
"Can'st hear," said one, "the breakers roar?For methinks we should be near the shore;Now where we are I cannot tell,But I wish I could hear the Inchcape Bell."
They hear no sound, the swell is strong;Though the wind hath fallen, they drift along,Till the vessel strikes with a shivering shock;Cried they, "It is the Inchcape Rock!"
Sir Ralph the Rover tore his hair,He curst himself in his despair;The waves rush in on every side,The ship is sinking beneath the tide.
But even in his dying fearOne dreadful sound could the Rover hear,A sound as if with the Inchcape Bell,The fiends below were ringing his knell.
—Robert Southey.
Such a poem as this one is called aballad. A ballad always tells a story; it is never a very long poem; and it is always a poem of the sort that could be set to music and sung.Each group of lines in any poem is called astanza, not a verse, as perhaps you have been used to calling it. In this poem you see that there are stanzas of four lines each.Two lines that rhyme with each other are called acouplet. How many couplets are there in each stanza? Can you find the two words from which the most rhymes are made?
Such a poem as this one is called aballad. A ballad always tells a story; it is never a very long poem; and it is always a poem of the sort that could be set to music and sung.
Each group of lines in any poem is called astanza, not a verse, as perhaps you have been used to calling it. In this poem you see that there are stanzas of four lines each.
Two lines that rhyme with each other are called acouplet. How many couplets are there in each stanza? Can you find the two words from which the most rhymes are made?
Can you read this selection thoroughly in four minutes? Some of you can read it in less time than that.One of the most really democratic countries in the world today is Switzerland, the little republic among the Alps. It has a long and glorious history, for it is the earliest of modern republics. Its sections, instead of being calledstates, are calledcantons. Switzerland originally belonged to Austria, in the early days when Austria was ruled not by an emperor but by a duke. The dukes of Austria were cruel tyrants, and this story tells how the Swiss mountaineers first began to free themselves from Austrian rule, in the battle of Morgarten in the year 1315.As you read the story, notice:1. The differences between Swiss and Austrians in numbers and equipment.2. What gave the Swiss an advantage over the Austrians.
Can you read this selection thoroughly in four minutes? Some of you can read it in less time than that.
One of the most really democratic countries in the world today is Switzerland, the little republic among the Alps. It has a long and glorious history, for it is the earliest of modern republics. Its sections, instead of being calledstates, are calledcantons. Switzerland originally belonged to Austria, in the early days when Austria was ruled not by an emperor but by a duke. The dukes of Austria were cruel tyrants, and this story tells how the Swiss mountaineers first began to free themselves from Austrian rule, in the battle of Morgarten in the year 1315.
As you read the story, notice:
1. The differences between Swiss and Austrians in numbers and equipment.
2. What gave the Swiss an advantage over the Austrians.
There are people who doubt the story of William Tell and Gessler, the Swiss archer and the Austrian tyrant; but no one can doubt the great and decisive victory won at Morgarten by the Swiss on the 15th of November, 1315. Three cantons beside the lake—Schwyz, Uri, and Unterwalden: the three Forest Cantons, as they were called, because of their great woods—were resolved to be free of Austrian rule. The Austrian Duke determined to crush them once and for all.
He regarded it as a very easy matter. He had vast numbers of horsemen and footmen, all splendidly armed and well trained in warfare; his opponents were a few peasants, who clung to their native hills, and loved freedom, and were ready to die for it. The Austrians looked upon the affair as a mere hunting excursion. They provided themselves with cartloads of ropes to lead back prisoners and the herds of cattle they expected to seize.
When the men of the forest heard that their enemies were marching upon them, they gathered to defend their rights as freemen. They mustered thirteen hundred fighting men, armed with the rudest of weapons, many having nothing in their hands save heavy clubs, spiked with iron. But before night fell those spiked clubs had been dipped in the best blood of Austria.
Twenty-four thousand of the Duke's finest troops, led by his brother Leopold, advanced against these shepherds and herdsmen, and the two armies met on the slopes of Morgarten. At this point a narrow pass ascends the hill-side; upon one side of the pass lies the mountain, upon the other the deep waters of the lake. At the head of the pass stood the small band of Swiss, calmly surveying the splendid host of steel-clad knights and men-at-arms which rode against them. The Austrians pushed up the slope confident of victory.
But as the latter rode up the pass an avalanche was loosed upon them—not an avalanche of snow, but one prepared by the Swiss themselves. Great stones, rocks, and trunks of trees had been poised on the edge of the heights above the pass. When the Austrians were seen below, these were thrust over the brink of the descent, and came rolling, leaping, thundering down the mountainside, and crashing in among the horsemen. Many were struck down, and the horses became so terrified that the whole body of the assailants was thrown into utter confusion.
Here was the opportunity of the Swiss, and they did not let it slip. Down the pass they swept upon the bewildered foe, and assailed them furiously with their swords, their halberds (a heavy shaft of wood fitted with axe and spear-point), and with their great iron-spiked clubs.
The Austrians tried to turn back and escape, but in vain. They were caught in the narrow pass as in a net. Many sprang from their horses and tried to get away on foot; but they slipped on the rocks, and the nimble mountaineers, whose nailed shoes gave them good foothold on their native slopes, and who were used to climbing over perilous heights, caught and destroyed them easily.
It was hardly a battle: it was a mere slaughter. Great numbers of the Austrians were slain on the spot; many were driven into the lake and drowned; the rest fled. Among the latter was Duke Leopold, who himself narrowly escaped with his life. One who saw him on his flight from this fatal field said that he looked "like death, and quite distracted". Well might he look distracted. He had left behind him a battleground drenched with the best blood of Austria; while of the brave Swiss only fourteen men had fallen.
The latter could scarce believe at first that they had won so mighty a victory; but when they saw the Austrians flying for their lives, and knew that the day was indeed their own, they fell on their knees upon this forever famous field of Morgarten, and thanked God for deliverance from the power of Austria; and to this day a service of thanksgiving is held every year on the anniversary of that great fight. Year by year, on the 15th of November, Swiss men and women visit that sacred spot where the liberty of their land was won in one of the decisive battles of the world, for after Morgarten the Forest Cantons never lost their freedom again.
—From "A Peep at Switzerland",by John Finnemore.
This is another drill that asks you to make a careful choice of words.Do notwrite your name at the top of the paper this time, but beginning on the first line, write the figures 1 to 12 in the margin.
Below are ten sets of words. In each set, the first word is followed by four other words. Among these four words there is one that is exactly opposite in meaning to the first word in the group. Look at the first group.summeris the first word. Of the four words that follow it which one is the opposite in meaning tosummer?winter, of course. Write this pair of opposites after figure 1 on your paper as follows:
1.summerwinter
After figure 2 write the second pair of opposites:
2.tightloose
Complete the drill by selecting the opposites from each remaining group, and writing them after the proper figure on your paper. When finished, sign your name in the lower right-hand corner of your paper and wait quietly for the others.
1.summer(snow, winter, skating, January).2.tight(small, larger, loose, bind).3.long(straight, heavy, short, reach).4.left(before, right, corner, wrong).5.storm(calm, rain, sun, wind).6.round(box, cake, seat, square).7.beautiful(picture, flower, girl, ugly).8.cold(winter, ice, warm, weather).9.help(mother, book, lift, hinder).10.rough(place, smooth, cotton, paper).11.sweet(candy, sour, smile, lemon).12.polite(courtesy, manners, rude, clumsy).
Here is a story of Mekolka, a little boy whose home is in the far northern part of Russia. Mekolka is a Samoyad; that is, a dweller on the northern coast of Russia or Siberia. The Tundra is a wide, almost level plain without any trees.As you read, make a list of the things Mekolka can do with his hands.What do you think adishamust be? What is atoor?Mekolka does not know how to read print, but he can read in the book of "all out-doors". What is the lesson he knows best?Mekolka's clothes have queer Russian names. See if you can tell, from the way each is described, what is amilitza, what is asoveek, and what arepimmies?How does Mekolka keep track of the months and days?
Here is a story of Mekolka, a little boy whose home is in the far northern part of Russia. Mekolka is a Samoyad; that is, a dweller on the northern coast of Russia or Siberia. The Tundra is a wide, almost level plain without any trees.
As you read, make a list of the things Mekolka can do with his hands.
What do you think adishamust be? What is atoor?
Mekolka does not know how to read print, but he can read in the book of "all out-doors". What is the lesson he knows best?
Mekolka's clothes have queer Russian names. See if you can tell, from the way each is described, what is amilitza, what is asoveek, and what arepimmies?
How does Mekolka keep track of the months and days?
If you were a little Samoyad boy, it is more than likely that you would not go to school, unless you were one of a family that went off in a procession of sleighs at the beginning of every winter to some small town on the Petchora, or even farther on to Mezen or Archangel on the White Sea. Then there would be some small school for you to go to while the days were dark, till the approach of spring brought with it a new packing up and long sleigh drive back to the haunts of seal and walrus. But it is just as likely that there would be no school and no lessons. Mekolka, for instance, though he has picked up a little learning—a very little—from the Russian traders, and from friends who have traveled over the Tundra, knows very few of the things you know.
But he can use his fingers with great skill, and if he cannot write much, he can make a beautiful pattern with one knife on the horn handle of another one. In fact, he is quite skilful in carving the reindeer horns. He is alwayson the lookout for a good piece of horn, and whenever he finds the shed antlers of a reindeer—for the deer cast off their antlers and grow new ones every spring—he picks them up and puts them to "season". There are regular piles of these antlers about. It is the custom for everyone to put the ones he finds on to one of these heaps, and to take the horn he wants to work from the more seasoned pieces at the bottom of the heap. Mekolka always chooses his piece with great care, cuts it down to the right shape, and as often as not decorates it with a metal pattern. For this he has to cut his design in a regular groove all over the horn. Having got his grooves deep and wide enough he puts some white-looking metal on the fire in a piece of wood scooped out like a cup. The metal soon melts, and Mekolka pours it into the groove and prevents it from running off by holding a piece of paper tight round the horn. The metal cools, and the edges are cut away. Then he polishes it with sand, after which he possesses a beautiful knife-handle.
Sometimes Mekolka goes in for ornaments without regard to use, and makes himself a ring. This time he makes the groove in a round piece of wood, which he has pared down to the right size, and runs in the same metal as before, with the piece of paper held tight, to support the metal on the under side. Then he cuts away the wood, and brings out knife and sand for the finishing; at the end he puts it on his finger with a look of proud content. Some of the patterns he makes on the knife-handles are really very beautiful, so that the Russian traders are glad to take them away in return for snuff and tobacco.
Mekolka can make a sleigh and mend it when required, throw thedishawhen he wants to catch a reindeer, and bring it round its horn at the first throw. He can harness a teamof five correctly, and drive them like the wind. At the gullies he is splendid; he puts the deer to a gallop when he sees the ravine ahead; then over they go, sleigh and all, Mekolka sitting there, proud and unmoved. Sometimes the ravine cannot be treated this way. Then Mekolka brings the team up to the edge and holds histoor—the long driving pole—across them to make them stand evenly. Then he dexterously removes the pole and shouts to the deer; at once they leap together across the cleft and climb up the steep snow wall on the other side by the grip of their outspread hoofs. They are not long at the top with the sleigh before Mekolka has slithered down and scrambled up the walls of the ravine, where they are less steep and where the ravine is not quite so narrow. He is quickly on to his sleigh again while the deer race forwards.
It is cold work racing through the chill air, which is frequently thick with an icy mist; but Mekolka is clad from head to foot in fur. Hismilitzaof reindeer-skin with fur inside often has a hood and mittens attached to it and covers him like a smock from head to knees. On his feet he wearspimmies, which reach up to themilitza, and are generally made of sealskin with the fur cut into strips to form an attractive pattern. Over themilitzahe sometimes puts asoveek, the Samoyad overcoat. Here the fur is worn outside, and the garment is big and roomy.
After a long journey the reindeer must be unharnessed for feeding. They find their own food, of course, and Mekolka seizes the chance to go to sleep. He always goes to sleep in the same queer way; he sits down on the ground, pulls his arms out of the sleeves, and then lies flat on his back. The empty sleeves stretch out stiffly by his side, and look, of course, as though the arms are in them, though the hands have found a warmer spot inside on his chest.
The air on the Tundra, and, indeed, in all the Arctic region has a curious way of deceiving the traveler. It makes things look like something else. Take a day when the sunshine lights up the scene and the grey, lichen-covered mounds take wonderful colors in the distance from the blue sky and the haze. Though lakes of water appear to grow and fill the far-off hollows, Mekolka knows they are not lakes, but little snowdrifts. It is the mirage that plays these little tricks. So when he sees mighty ships sailing over the sea, he knows it is nothing more than blocks of ice, while what looks like a great headland on the coast is nothing but a little mound thirty or forty feet high. And if, when alone, he sees half a dozen other Samoyads come to the river-bank within a couple of hundred yards and then stop while one sits on a stone, he doesn't call out or walk toward them; he knows quite well that in a minute or two they will form themselves into a group of bernacle geese, or a family of snow buntings; in fact, he is quite prepared to hear one suddenly burst into song (for the snow bunting is the gayest warbler of the Arctic), and to find a cleft in the peat where there will be a nest, lined with dead grasses and the white feathers of the willow-grouse, and holding half a dozen eggs.
He knows every bird that flies overhead, and can name them, too, though his names are very different from ours. He knows that the snow bunting arrives about the middle of April, and he begins to watch for its appearance as soon as the days are getting long. He has no calendar of months and days to look at, but he makes notches on a stick—one for each day, with an extra cut at the seventh—and he is just as quick in glancing at his stick and telling you the date as an American boy would be with his printed calendar. He will watch for the purple sandpiper in May, and findits eggs in June, though they are very hard to find for anyone with eyes less trained than Mekolka's. The nest is always built in some hollow among the Arctic willow or lichen, and the eggs are difficult enough to see, as is the bird itself when sitting on them—they all look so exactly like the ground. And the bird will let you come ever so close to her—in fact, almost tread on her—before she will leave her cherished eggs.
Mekolka can tell you about the behavior of the little stint when he came upon her nest one day. It had four precious eggs in it. When the old bird found she was really discovered, she jigged about like an acrobat, squeaked like a mouse, and did everything she could to take off Mekolka's attention from the nest. As that did not work, the little bird twittered and pretended to be lame, running about as though asking to be caught; but all she wanted was that no one should notice that deep hole in the ground half full of dried birch-leaves where her four cherished eggs were laid. The little stint had been into a creek in Scotland early in June, and wanted to get back there with four chicks before the end of July. She did not want to lose those eggs and go back all that long journey without any little ones. Not that she is very kind to them after they begin to grow, for on the very earliest opportunity she kicks them out of the nest to teach them self-reliance!