CHAPTER XXV.

Pupa-case, Larva, and Fly of Caddis-Worm.

"Will no one make me a bid? Everything is to be sold without reservation," cried the auctioneer.

"Five shillings," said Frank.

"Going at five shillings!—going! going!—gone!"—and the lot was knocked down to Frank.

"What are you going to do with them?" asked Jimmy.

"Make them into aquaria, of course. Don't you see they are just the thing. The idea came into my head as soon as I saw them."

"Then we can put some water insects in," said Dick.

The glass reservoirs were placed on a shelf in the boat-house, and the next morning before breakfast they were fitted up. They got a quantity of fine gravel and sand, and thoroughlywashed it in water, so as to cleanse it from all mud and impurity. This was placed to the depth of a couple of inches in each vessel, and a rock-work of worn flints was built upon it. Water was poured in to within a few inches of the top, and pieces of anacharis were planted in the gravel, their roots kept down by the stones. In a day or two the water had got clear, and the plants had taken root, and the boys proceeded to stock the aquaria. The small brook near afforded minnows and sticklebacks in plenty. In a stagnant pool they got some newts and water-insects. From the broad they obtained a few small perch, roach, and bream, and an eel about six inches long. They at first put these all together without any attempt at sorting them, and then the following consequences ensued. The water-boatmen fastened on the heads of the small fish and speedily killed them, and ate them up. The sticklebacks made themselves at home at once, and proved very pugnacious, fighting each other, dashing at a stick or finger, if put into the water, but, worst of all, annoying the minnows. Each male stickleback took up a position of his own, and resented any approach to within a few inches of it. With his glaring green eyes, and scarlet breast, he would wage war against any intruder; and when an unsuspecting minnow came within his ken he would sidle up to it, till within striking distance, then dash at it, and strike it with his snout in the stomach. The perch swallowed the minnows, and when they had vanished, attempted to swallow the sticklebacks, but the spines of the latter stuck in the perches' gullets and choked them. The eel, too, would writhe and poke through the gravel and stir it up, displacing the weeds and doing a lot of mischief.

Minnow.

This led to a general reconstruction of the aquaria. The perch were taken out and restored to the broad, together with the eel. The roach, bream, and minnows, were put into two of the aquaria by themselves, and the sticklebacks and water-insectsinto the other. Many a fight took place among the sticklebacks and the water-boatmen, in which sometimes the one and sometimes the other came off victorious.

Smooth Newt.

The boys then got some caddis-worms, pulled them from their cases, and put them into a glass vessel filled with water, and having at the bottom some glass of different colours broken into small pieces. In a short time the caddis-worms had made themselves new, parti-coloured cases of glass, which were quite transparent, and through which the white bodies of the grubs could be plainly seen. Frank put these in among the minnows one day, and it was amusing to see the fish darting at the caddis-worms, thinking they would be soft, succulent morsels, and to watch their evident astonishment at being foiled by the hard cases. This suggested an idea to Frank which he afterwards carried out.

None of the sticklebacks kept by the boys built nests or bred, so that they missed seeing a very pretty and interesting sight. "Fishes building nests!" I hear some of my readers exclaiming. Yes, sticklebacks do build nests, and in the number for January 1866 ofScience Gossipis an interesting account of thishabit, which I take the liberty of quoting. When I have observed any fact in natural history myself, I describe it in my own words; but when I take it from the observation of others, it is fairer to them to use their own words, and far better in the interests of truth:—

"Two pair of sticklebacks were procured about the middle of April,—the males having already put on their spring dress of scarlet and green, and the females being full of spawn.

Metamorphoses of Newt.

"After a few days a small hole was observed in the sand near a large stone. To this hole one of the males was paying the most assiduous and extraordinary attention. He was poising himself at an angle of forty-five degrees or thereabouts; he commenced a tremendous motion of his whole body, making the sand a pivot, and at the same time beating the water with his fins. This motion increased regularly in rapidity for a minute or so, when it ceased abruptly, and the fish darted off, either in pursuit of some trespasser whom he chastised (the females not even being exempt), or to obtain materials to increase his nest. These consisted of pieces of stick or moss, which being saturatedwith water, were of such gravity as to prevent their rising. He deposited these with great care, leaving a perfectly round hole in the middle, and then having procured a mouthful of sand, laid it over the looser materials to cement them together.

"When completed, the nest resembled a flattened haycock.

"For about a week after this completion it seemed deserted. But one morning it was found that some eggs had been laid. These for the size of the fish are very large, being about the size of a middling-sized shot. They hatched in about from ten days to a fortnight,—the young fish remaining in the nest until the yolk-bag was absorbed, when, being large enough to look after themselves, they went their way. The parent who had so tenderly guarded them took no further heed of them, and himself died—such being the case in both instances which came under notice, both parents sickening and dying from the effects of spawning and watching, or perhaps from the aquarium not being fitted for their recovery."

Water-Fleas.Animalculæ in Drop of Water,as seen under the Microscope.

Water-Fleas.

Animalculæ in Drop of Water,as seen under the Microscope.

Those who keep aquaria in an intelligent manner and study the habits of the creatures they imprison, will find it both interesting work, and a never-failing source of amusement. It is very little trouble. When the water is put in, and the plants begin to grow, the water need not be changed. Theoxygen produced by the plants will keep the water pure, and will supply it with air.

Fresh-water Aquarium.

The green confervoid growth which rapidly forms on the sides of the aquarium must not be all wiped off, for it assists greatly in keeping the water pure and healthy. Tie a piece of sponge to a stick, and with this you can wipe it off from that side where it obstructs the view, without disturbing the rest of the aquarium. If you have no cover, and dust accumulates on the surface of the water, it may easily be removed by means of a piece of paper laid on the surface of the water for a few minutes. The dust will adhere to this, and be taken awaywith it when it is removed. The confervoid growth is best kept down by the common water-snail, several of which should be kept in the aquarium.

You must of course feed the fish occasionally with worms, insects, and bread; but give them very little at a time, or you will foul the water and render it muddy, and the fish will sicken and die. Keep these few hints in mind, and you will have no trouble in managing your aquarium.

Metamorphoses of Frog.

From aquaria to flowers is a sudden transition, but a bunch of violets has just been held to my nose to smell, and their sweet fragrance has borne me in thought from my study, where I am burning the midnight oil, to the green woods and fields of my boyhood, and then a sudden review of events which have happened since in my life, makes me more thankful than ever that that boyhood was, as far as natural history is concerned, a prototype to the boys of whom I am now writing, and makes me wish to urge the more strongly upon youthe almost boundless advantages which follow the study to all. You will of course clearly see that my aim in writing this book is not merely to amuse, but to teach you some of the wonders which lie ready for you to explore, and the delight of seeking and discovering those wonders. I do not, however, want to moralize, because if I do you will skip my moralising, so I will pull up in time and get on with my story.

Sea-water Aquarium.

Making a Fern Case.—Ferns.—Harvest Mouse.—Mole.—Ladybird.—Grasses.

Wall Spleenwort.

Fromten till four the boys were engaged with Mr. Meredith, but they had a holiday on Saturday, and by rising early they could gain so many of the fairest and most beautiful hours of the day that lessons seemed but an interval between a long morning and a long afternoon. They thus made plenty of time for their numerous occupations.

Forked Spleenwort.

Mary said to Jimmy one day, "Will you make me a fern-case? Frank has so many things to do. I have been promised a lot of ferns from Devonshire. A friend of mine will send them to me by post, and I should so like to have a nice little fernery for my bedroom window."

Green Spleenwort.

Jimmy gladly promised to make one for her, and Dick, who would have liked to have had the commission himself, volunteered to help him. They first of all made a strong deal box, about two feet six inches long, and one foot six inches broad, and six inches deep. This was lined carefully withsheet lead, which was to make it perfectly water-tight. They then made a wooden framework, with a pointed roof, to fit on the top of it. This they glazed with ordinary window-glass, and painted all the wood-work black. It was now ready for the soil. First they put a layer, about two inches deep, of broken sandstone, in order to ensure perfect drainage, and mixed with this were some lumps of charcoal to keep it pure. Then they filled up the box with earth, mixed in the proportions following:—one-third part of garden mould, one-third part of sand, and one-third part of peaty earth, with an admixture of dead leaves. In the centre of the rockery they built up a framework of curiously water-worn flints, and then they carried the affair in triumph to Mary's room, where they planted the ferns she had received from her friend—glossy, whole-leaved hart's-tongues, delicate, black-stemmed maiden-hair, ladder-like polypodies and blechnums, feathery lady-ferns, light green and branching oak-ferns, and many another species, which, notwithstanding their removal from the Devonshire lanes, grew andflourished in Mary's fern-case, and soon became a sight most pleasant to the eye.

Oak Fern.

Fructification of Ferns.1. Asplenium. 2. Scolopendrium. 3. Cystopteris.4. Blechnum. 5. Hymenophyllum.6. Pteris. 7. Adiantum. 8. Trichomanes. 9. Woodsia.

To anyone fond of ferns nothing can be more interesting than a fern-case. Nearly all ferns grow well in them, if they are properly attended to. Whenever the soil becomes dry on the surface, they should be well watered, and this should not bedone too often, or it will encourage the growth of mould. The moisture will evaporate and condense on the side of the glass, and run down again to the earth, so that there is very little waste. The plants thus create an atmosphere of their own, and will thrive in it wonderfully.

Wall Rue.Jersey Fern.Marsh Fern.

One day it was so intensely hot that it was impossible to do anything but lie in the shade. The boys had bathed twice, and the deck planks of the yacht were so burning hot that they could with difficulty stand upon them. They sought a shady corner of the paddock, and there underneath a tall hedge and the shade of an oak they lay, and talked, and read. Frank was teasing Dick with a piece of grass, and to escape him, Dick got up and sat on a rail in the hedge which separated them from the next field, which was a corn-field. This quietly gave way, and Dick rolled into the next field, and lay amongthe corn quite happy and contented. Suddenly he called out—

"Come and look at this nest in the corn-stalks! It can't be a bird's. What is it?"

Frank and Jimmy went through the gap and examined it.

Harvest Mouse and Nest.

"It is the nest of a harvest mouse," said Frank, "and there are half a dozen naked little mice inside."

The harvest mouse is the smallest of British animals. Unlike its relatives, it builds its nest in the stalks of grass or corn at a little distance from the ground. The nest is globular in shape, made of woven grass, and has a small entrance like that of a wren's.

Mole.

"And here is a mole-trap," said Jimmy, "with a mole in it. What smooth glossy fur it has! It will set whichever way you rub it."

"Yes; and don't you see the use of that. It can run backwards or forwards along its narrow burrows with the greatest ease. It could not do that if the fur had a right and a wrong way."

"Can it see?" asked Jimmy, pointing to the tiny black specks which represented its eyes.

"Oh yes. Not very well, I dare say; but well enough for its own purposes. It can run along its passages at a great speed, as people have found out by putting straws at intervals along them, and then startling the mole at one end and watching the straws as they were thrown down."

During the autumn and winter the mole resides in a fortress, often at short distances from the burrow where it nests. Thisfortress is always placed in a position of safety, and is of a most complex construction. It is a hillock, containing two or three tiers of galleries with connecting passages, and from the central chamber it has passages, or rows, extending in different directions.

Ladybird and its Stages.

The boys returned to their couches in the long grass in the shade, and Frank was soon too sleepy to tease, but lay on the broad of his back, looking up at the blue sky through the interstices of the oak branches. Dick was studying the movements of a ladybird with red back and black spots, which was crawling up a grass-stem, and wondering how such a pretty creature could eat a green juicy aphis, as it has a habit of doing. Jimmy was turning over the pages of his book, and looking out the plates of flowers, and comparing them with some he had gathered. He was rather bewildered and somewhat discouraged at the immensity of the study he had undertaken. No sooner did he learn the name of a flower than it was driven from his head by that of another, and having attempted to do too much in the beginning, he had got into a pretty state of confusion. Hehad given up the idea of keeping pace with naming all the beautiful flowers he had found. He gathered and dried them, and left to the winter evenings the task of arranging and naming them.

"I say," called out Frank, "around my face there are at least seven different kinds of grasses. Can you name them, Jimmy?—and how many different kinds of grasses are there?"

"I can name nothing," said Jimmy dolefully, "but I will look it up in my book and tell you. Here it is, but their name seems legion. You must look at them for yourself. The plates are very beautiful, but the quaking grass, of which there is any quantity just by your head, is the prettiest."

"They seem as pretty as ferns," said Frank. "I must learn something more about them."

A day or two after this Mr. Meredith said to them, when they had assembled at his house in the morning:

"Now, boys, from something a little bird has whispered to me, I think you stand in need of a little punishment, and I therefore mean to give you a lesson. You are by far too desultory in your study of natural history. You attempt to do too much, and so you only obtain a superficial knowledge, instead of the thorough and practical one you ought to have. You are trying to reach a goal before you have fairly started from the toe-line. I allude more especially now to botanical matters, because I know most about them, and that is all I can help you in. Therefore you will be kind enough to translate into Latin this Essay which I have written on the Life of a Fern."

"That is anything but a punishment, sir," said Frank, laughing.

The boys set to work with great zest at their novel lesson. I set the English of it out in the next chapter, and I particularly request my young readers to read every word of it.

The Life of a Fern.1

1 For this chapter I am indebted to my friend Mr. William Whitwell, of Oxford.

Oneof the most marvellous of "the fairy tales of science" has now to engage our attention for a time. The growth and fertilization of the seeds—more properly called spores—of ferns, present phenomena of remarkable singularity and interest. Growth is advisedly named first, as in the present instance it really does occur before fertilization, which is not the primary event in the life-history of a fern.

But a few words must be devoted to the preliminary question: What is a fern?

The vegetable kingdom is divided into two great provinces, allotted respectively to the flowering and the flowerless tribes. The flowering plants have several distinct and visible organs for the formation and fertilization of their seed, to each of which is assigned a special and necessary office. In the flowerless section, on the contrary, there are none of these visibly separate agencies in reproduction, and what are usually termed the seeds do not show any parts representative of the developed product. In the true seeds, which belong to flowering plants alone, are contained the rudiments of a stem, leaves, and root, but in the spores of the flowerless plants nothing of the kind is found. The spores, again, are microscopic, while the smallest of true seeds can be not only seen but easily picked up. You have, doubtless, met with the peculiar fungus called a puff-ball, and amused yourselves by watching the little clouds of impalpable dust which are shaken from it on the slightest motion. Those fine clouds, not nearly so visible as a film of candle smoke, are composed of innumerable spores, and such are the representatives of seeds in every member of the great section of the flowerless plants.

Now it is peculiar to ferns, that the cases in which these spores are enclosed grow directly from the veins of what is usually called the leaf, but is more correctly termed the frond, and always appear upon the back or at the margin.

Ferns, then, are flowerless plants which bear their spores in cases growing upon the back or margin of the leaves.

In order that the phenomena of growth and fertilization in ferns may be clearly understood, it is necessary to refer to the process as taking place in flowering plants. The tulip is most appropriate for an illustration, inasmuch as its various parts will be recognised with ease.

At the bottom of the blossom is a thick green oval body called the ovary, which afterwards becomes the seed-vessel. At the top, this narrows into a short column, surmounted by a three-cleft knob. Between the ovary and the gorgeously painted flower-leaves are six curious organs, termed stamens, consisting each of a long and rather slender stalk, and a head formed somewhat like a hammer.

If the green oval ovary in the centre is cut in two, it will be found divided into three chambers, in one or another of which, not usually in all, will be seen a row of little knobs or buttons attached to the partition in the middle. These little buttons are ovules, or seed-germs, and the special office of the ovary is to produce these germs, and to contain them until their full development and complete ripening into seeds. But if the knobs are left just as they are, unfertilized, they can never become seeds, and the plant will fail to reproduce its kind.

Turn we now to the stamens. Each of their hammer-like heads has two chambers, full of beautiful little grains which are called the pollen. Each grain is tastefully and delicately marked, and holds a transparent watery fluid, in which a number of extremely small solid particles are floating. What is required for the fertilization of the seed-germs is—that this fluid should be conveyed to and taken up by them. But they are in the centre of the thick green ovary—this in the chambers of the stamens!

A simple arrangement brings all about. At a certain time we may see the black heads of the stamens covered with a fine flour, which adheres to whatever touches them. This flour is made up solely of pollen-grains, escaping in unimaginable numbers from the chambers where they are produced. At thesame time the knob which crowns the seed-vessel puts forth a thick and gummy ooze. The stamens are just long enough for their heads to rise a little above this knob, upon which the pollen, when escaping as I have stated, falls in great quantity, and is there held fast.

Each grain then begins to swell, and to sprout (as the Rev. J. G. Wood has it) something like potatoes in a cellar. All the sprouts, however, pierce the knob, and push downwards until they reach the seed-germs underneath. Each sprout is a tube of extreme minuteness, and when it reaches a germ, attaches itself thereto, and, through the channel so formed, the fluid is drawn out of the pollen-grain and absorbed by the embryo seed. Fertilization is thus effected, and the growth and development of the germ proceeds until it becomes a seed fully able, when planted, to reproduce a tulip.

Fern Spores.

In ferns, the spores ripen and are ready for dispersion and partial growth without any process of the kind. But, in truth, fertilization is as necessary to the continuance of ferns as to the perpetuation of other plants. The main difference lies in this: that the means of fertilization, and the real germs of new plants, are produced from the spores after they begin to grow.

When a spore falls upon a proper place for its development,a portion of the outer membrane begins to swell, and a tongue-shaped projection is formed, which becomes a sort of root. The one chamber of the spore gradually subdivides, and becomes two, four, and so on, until for the simple spore we have a tiny leaf-like expansion, now known as theprothallium, or representative of a leaf.

Further than this the spore alone has no power to go, and the prothallium is not truly the germ of the future plant. True germs, needing fertilization, are produced upon it, and also the means whereby they can be fertilized. These can be distinguished only by use of the higher microscopic powers. If a portion of the prothallium is examined, it will be found studded with little bladders, containing round semi-transparent bodies of a greenish hue.

There may also be seen, though in fewer numbers, pellucid cells of an entirely different character, consisting apparently only of a fine membrane, forming an angular chamber, shaped in some instances like a lantern of extreme delicacy and elegance. From the top of this chamber a funnel-like shaft descends to a little germ which is situated at the bottom. This germ is the real original of the future plant, and the round bodies in their little cells, just before described, are the means whereby it is to be fertilized and receive energy to develope into the perfect fern.

But how can the needful contact between the germs and the fertilizing bodies be brought about? Observation and experiment supply a strange answer to this question.

The round bodies in the tiny bladders acquire a spiral or shell-like form when they become mature. If a drop of water is then placed in contact with the bladders, their contents will suddenly escape, retaining for a moment the coiled appearance, but quickly lengthening and partially unrolling.

By means of hairs with which they are furnished, and which at once commence a ceaseless jerking motion, they forthwith launch out into the water, and conduct themselves therein more like creatures endowed with conscious life than mere organs of a settled and sedate member of the vegetable kingdom.

These bodies, drawing near the germ-cells in the course of their travels through the, to them, vast ocean of the water-drop, have been seen arrested in their progress and passing down thefunnel-shafts to the germs below—so fulfilling the purpose for which they were designed and their curious swimming powers were given.

The germs, so fertilized, become the underground stems of which I have yet to speak, putting forth roots and producing the tender, rolled-up buds which finally expand into the fronds whose grace and beauty we so much admire.

These germs, appearing on the prothallium or leaf-like expansion of the spore, are the true representatives of seeds, and the swimming bodies correspond to the pollen or fertilizing dust of flowers.

Thus we see that germs and means of fertilization are produced in the fern as truly as in higher plants, and that the simple agency whereby the one may reach and exert the needful action upon the other, is thedew-dropresting on the prothallium from which they are developed. Without the dew-drop or the rain-drop as a means of communication both must perish with their mission unfulfilled. This is, perhaps, one of the most singular instances ever to be found, of the mutual dependency of created things, or, to give different expression to the same idea, of the mode in which each link of the great network of existence is connected with every other.

Returning to the fern, whose "strange eventful history" we have traced so far,—the germ enlarges and becomes what is usually called the root, but is really an underground stem. The true roots are the little fibres—often black and wiry, looking more dead than alive—which descend from this.

The stem may be of two kinds—long, thin, and creeping, as in the common polypody, or short, stout, and upright, as in the common male fern.

At intervals along the creeping stem, or arranged more or less regularly around the crown of the erect stem, little buds appear, which eventually form the fronds which are the really conspicuous portion of the plant, and whose aspect is familiar to us all. The buds present a character of great interest and singularity. Instead of being simply folded together, as leaves generally are,—in all but two of our British kinds the fronds are rolled up after the fashion of a crosier or shepherd's crook. In divided fronds, the sections are rolled up first, and singly, and then the whole are rolled up again, as if forming but a single piece. The aspect of some of these young fronds—inthe common bracken, for instance—with their many divisions all partially unrolled, is often highly curious.

But in this I am proceeding too far. The first crop of fronds, even in those kinds which when mature are most deeply cut, are usually very simple in form—almost or wholly undivided.

This fact is often a source of great confusion to beginners. I well remember two perplexities of the kind in which I was involved during the earlier season of my attention to this subject.

Growing upon a rock by the roadside, I found a small fern, more exquisitely beautiful than any I had seen before. I gathered and preserved it, but for many months was wholly puzzled as to its nature. Fancies arose that I was the happy discoverer of a new species,—and what if Professor Lindley or Sir William Hooker were to name it after me—Asplenium, or Polystichum, or something else, Meredithii? That would be better than a peerage.

These were but fancies, and I was well pleased when further experience—for books helped me not at all—showed that it was a young plant of the common lady-fern. It was divided once only—into simple leaflets—while the fully-developed frond of the matured plant is one of the most highly subdivided our islands can produce.

When I began collecting ferns, I had not seen a specimen of the rare holly-fern, and it was pardonable in me on finding some fronds which evidently belonged to the shield fern genus, and were divided into spiny leaflets only, to refer them to this species and tell a friend that I had made a great discovery. But on going to the same plant a year later, my mistake was made plain, as the new fronds were much more divided, and showed the plant to be of the common kind, the prickly shield-fern.

On the rocky sides of little Welsh and Highland rivers, in glens where the sunlight seldom enters, complete series of this fern in all its stages—from the tiny simple leaf to the deeply-cut and boldly-outlined frond of nearly three feet in length—may easily be obtained, and will beautifully illustrate its varied and increasingly-divided forms.

Some fronds of course, as those of the graceful hart's-tongue, are undivided even at maturity, except in occasional instances in which, like creatures endowed with more sentientlife, they become erratic, and show a disposition to pass beyond the ordinary limitations. Curious examples of tendency to a greater than even their proper large amount of subdivision are occasionally shown in specimens of the lady-fern, which become forked at the extremities not only of the fronds but of the leaflets also.

The manner in which the fronds divide into lobes, segments, leaflets, and so on, is of course largely dependent upon the character of the veining, which differs widely from that of the flowering plants. In these, the veins are either netted or parallel, but in ferns they are forked, each branch again forking, and so on outward to the margin. This is only partially true of the scale-fern, and not true at all of the adder's-tongue; but it is the case with all other of our native kinds.

Scaly Spleenwort or "Rusty Back."

Passing now to the production of the spores, and so completing the cycle of a fern's existence,—these appear in cases which spring in some instances from leafless veins or central ribs, but mostly from the veins as they usually occur, and at the back or, in the bristle-fern and filmy-ferns, at the margin of the fronds. The cases grow in clusters which are termed sori, each of which is generally protected by a covering, though in the genus of the polypodies this is entirely absent, the clusters being fully exposed to the diversities of wind and weather. In the protected kinds, the cover assumes various forms. The filmy-ferns have it as a tiny cup, enclosing the spore-cases. In the bladder-fern it is like a fairy helmet. The shield-ferns, as their name implies, produce it as a little shield, fastened by its centre. In the buckler-ferns it is kidney-shaped, in the spleenworts long and narrow, and so on. Some kinds can scarcely be credited with the formation of a real cover, but their sori are protected by the turned-down margins of the fronds. In a few sorts, separate fronds areprovided for the production of the spores, and these mostly differ in shape from the ordinary or barren fronds.

The spore-cases are generally almost microscopic, flask-like in shape, and encircled by an elastic ring of peculiar structure, which passes either from top to bottom like a parallel of longitude, or round the sides like the equator round the earth. The exact nature of this band,—whether its elasticity be due to the mechanical arrangement of its cells, which are narrower on the inner than on the outer side, and apparently filled with solid matter, or to a quality of its substance,—I am unable to determine.

Wilson's Filmy-Fern.Tunbridge Filmy-Fern.

Wilson's Filmy-Fern.

Tunbridge Filmy-Fern.

When the spores are fully ripe, and ready for dispersion, the band, which has hitherto been bent around them, springs open with great suddenness and force, tearing the enclosing membrane and casting them forth upon the breeze, to undergo in their turn all the changes we have traced, or, as must be the case with multitudes, such are the countless numbers in which they are produced, to perish, humanly speaking, with all the beautiful possibilities of their nature for ever lost.

The botanist is led away from care, not merely into holes and corners—

"Brimful dykes and marshes dank"—

but to glorious vales and to mountain tops, where fresh health-laden breezes play around him, and he can delight in scenes of grandeur and loveliness to a degree which only a true lover of nature knows.

A poet I have read gave sweet expression to thoughts and feelings which I have often shared, when he wrote thus:—

"Oh! God be praised for a homeBegirt with beauty rare,A perfect home, where gentle thoughtsAre trained 'mid scenes so fair;"And where (God grant it so) the heartThat loves a beauteous view,The while it grows in truth and tasteMay grow in goodness too."For 'tis my creed that part to partSo clingeth in the soul,That whatsoe'er doth better one,That bettereth the whole."And whoso readeth nature's book,Widespread throughout the earth,Will something add unto his loveOf wisdom and of worth."

Happy are those who can find relief from the worry and turmoil of business in the observation and study of the myriad forms of life which flourish upon the earth, or whose record is laid up within its rocks. But blessed is he who, from the contemplation of objects so varied, wonderful, and beautiful, can with a full heart look upward to a God reconciled in Christ, and in reverential and loving worship exclaim, "MyFathermade them all!"

On the "War-path."—Rabbit-shooting.—Flapper-shooting.—Duck-shooting.—Wood-pigeons.—Life in an Oak-tree.—Burying-beetles.—Lace-wing Fly.—Stag-beetle.—Hair-worm.

Itwas a curious sight to see the boys on the "war-path." Frank generally led the way, with his eyes fixed on the hedge or tree-tops. Jimmy followed closely at his heels, and Dick brought up the rear. As their eyes were generally too much occupied in looking out for objects of interest, to take care of their feet, they lifted the latter up from the ground with an action like that of a thorough-bred colt, so as to avoid any obstacles in their path. While going along one day in this style, Frank said,

"I tell you what we have nearly forgotten, and that is to go flapper-shooting."

Flappers are young ducks only just able to fly, and in July it is great fun following them along the side of a dyke, the short flights of the young ones making them easy shots for a beginner.

"Let us go to-morrow," said Jimmy.

"You two shoot, and I will look on," said Dick, who cared very little for shooting.

Dick was not by any means an enthusiastic gunner, as the following anecdote will show.

He had taken the gun, saying that he was going to shoot rabbits by the Home Copse, a wood which belonged to Mr. Merivale. In a convenient spot the boys had fixed a hurdle close by a hedge-bank, and twined some brushwood through the bars. Between this and the hedge they used to take their seat, and watch for the rabbits coming out of their burrows in the evening. On a warm July evening Dick went to this spot alone, with a parting injunction from Frank not to shoot at the young ones, but to pick out the old bucks. Frank was busy with something or other, and Jimmy was away at Norwich.When Frank had finished what he was about he went in search of Dick. When he came to the edge of the field at the foot of which lay the wood, he saw numbers of rabbits skipping about close by Dick's shelter, and after waiting for some time he grew impatient, and wondered why Dick did not fire.

Wild Rabbits.

"He must have fallen asleep," he thought; and so with infinite care and cunning he crawled down the hedge-side, and came upon Dick from behind.

"Dick, why don't you shoot?" he said in a whisper.

"Hush!" said Dick, "they look so pretty, I don't like to disturb them. Look at the young ones frisking about."

"Give me the gun," said Frank.

Dick passed it to him through the hedge, and Frank, taking aim at two fine rabbits which happened to be in a line, shot them dead.

"I have had more pleasure in watching them than you have had in shooting them, Frank," said Dick.

It must not be thought that Dick was mawkishly sentimental, but he had not the organ of destructiveness that Frank had, and it was, as he said, quite as much sport to him to see and watch birds and animals as to shoot them. Therefore, when the others went flapper-shooting their order of going ranged in this wise:—

Frank, armed with his double-barrelled muzzle-loader (for breech-loaders had not yet come into general use), took one side of the dyke, and Jimmy, with a single-barrel he had bought second-hand, took the other side, while Dick took the punt along the dyke ready to act the part of a retriever.

It was one of those still, hot days when the distant woods lie brooding in a blue haze. The labours of the breeding-season over, the birds were resting silently, and there was no sound but the monotonous hum of insect-life. On the wide marshes all objects were distorted by the quivering of the evaporating moisture, and the long straight dykes and drains gleamed back defiantly at the sun. Frank and Jimmy trudged valiantly through the rustling flags and reeds by the water-side, and Dick pulled the punt along a little behind them.

"Shooting is no fun this weather," said Frank, stopping to wipe the perspiration from his brow.

Just then a wild-duck rose from the reeds, followed by half-a-dozen young ones. They rose on Frank's side of the dyke, so it was his turn to shoot. He dropped his hat and handkerchief and fired, but in his hurry he missed with the first barrel, and Jimmy, fearing they might escape, let off his big single, and one of the young ducks fell to the ground with a flop which told how fat he was. Frank winged another with his second barrel, and it fell into the water, where it was despatched by a third shot from Jimmy, who had hastily loaded. The old duck flew far away, but the young ones only flew short distances, and then settled on the dyke and hid in the reeds, one here and another there; and then for an hour or so they had good sport beating about the dykes, and flushing them one by one until they had disposed of the whole brood.

"There," said Frank, as he handed the last of them to Dick in the punt, "it is too hot to shoot any more to-day. We have done enough to be able to say that we have been flapper-shooting, and that is all I care for this hot weather."

"I am glad you are leaving off;" said Dick, "that villanous saltpetre smoke hangs in the air so that one can see nothing."

"Then let us have a bathe, and leave the ducks until the winter-time," said Jimmy.

"Yes, but we won't leave them quite yet. We must shoot them when they come to the corn-fields in August."

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