HOW BIRDS LEARN TO SING
How do birds first learn to sing?
From the whistling wind so fleet,
From the waving of the wheat,
From the rustling of the leaves,
From the raindrop on the eaves,
From the children's laughter sweet,
From the plash when brooklets meet.
Little birds begin their trill
As they gayly float at will
In the gladness of the sky,
When the clouds are white and high;
In the beauty of the day
Speeding on their sunny way,
Light of heart and fleet of wing—
That's how birds first learn to sing.
—Mary Mapes Dodge.
[THE GREATEST OF BEASTS]
| grasp | Hindu | smelling | urge |
| straight | feeling | earrings | trunk |
| roamed | jungle | processions | tusks |
Nandi, the Great One, was the baby's nurse. He was one of the strongest nurses that ever took care of a baby anywhere on this round earth.
In the first place Nandi was large, as you have already guessed. He was twice as high as the baby's father, and he was almost as tall as the roof of the tiny hut where the baby lived.
Nandi had a long nose. It was a very long nose indeed. Perhaps you will not believe it, but his nose was as long as you are tall, my little reader.
And it was a wonderful nose. It was always moving, always feeling, always smelling. With his nose Nandi could rock the cradle, and brush away the flies that buzzed about the baby's face. With it he could pick up the smallest toys from the ground, or open the door of the hut.
But you, my little readers, have another name for this wonderful, long nose. You call it a trunk.
Nandi had two long, sharp teeth. They were longer than a man's arm, and they were very strong. With them he could lift heavy logs and move great stones.
But you have another name for these long, strong teeth. You call them tusks. And you have already guessed that the baby's nurse was an elephant.
The baby was a little Hindu boy, and he lived on the other side of the world. He had a brown skin, black eyes, and black hair.
The Hindu baby had played with great Nandi's trunk ever since he could grasp anything with his tiny hands. He had crawled around the elephant's feet and slept on the ground in the shadow of the great beast. For, in the warm country of India, where the baby lived, it is always summer.
One morning, the baby's father perched himself upon the elephant's head and rode away from his home. The child screamed with grief for his companion.
"Be still, love of my life," said the mother. "Thy father has need of Nandi. He can no longer be idle. There is harder work for him to do than to care for thee, O small one."
The elephant's work was to pile heavy timbers in the lumber yard, and to help unload the ships. Often he worked alone, for he needed no driver to urge him to his task. His piles of wood were always straight, and his work always well done.
Once Nandi belonged to a Hindu prince and walked in long processions through the streets of cities. Then he wore gold rings in his ears and silver rings around his tusks. Red cloth, trimmed with gold, covered his great sides and hung almost to his feet. And he proudly bore upon his back the officers of the prince.
And longer ago than that, when he was young, he had lived in the jungle. Ah! those were happy days! Then, with other elephants, he roamed the forest, ate the tender branches, and swam the rivers.
But one day he was driven by the hunters through the forest and across the hills. Suddenly he found himself shut in on every side by a strong, high fence. Then he was caught and chained to a tame elephant who afterwards taught him how to work.
Nandi often took part in great hunts for wild beasts, and he bore the marks of a fierce tiger's claws upon his side. He helped to catch other elephants in the dark forest, and taught great beasts like himself to do many kinds of work.
Nandi did not care to be free. Truly, if he had wished to go back to the jungle what could hinder? For he worked without chain or harness.
He was well cared for. He loved the evening bath in the river and the evening meal of fresh leaves. He loved his master, who was always kind.
But best of all he loved the brown baby who fed him with bananas, and always welcomed his return with childish glee. How old Nandi's bright eyes would sparkle when his little friend came near.
And when the baby could run to meet him, and sit upon his great strong neck, there was no prouder elephant in all the land of India.
[THE STORY OF GIANT SUN]
| globe | cannon | planets | wax |
| finish | million | minute | travel |
"Sister, I wish you would tell me a story about the sun," said Harry. "Where does it go at night, and where does it come from in the morning?"
"We live on a big round globe called the earth," replied his sister, "and we travel around the sun once every year. The sun is like a great lamp in the sky. When we face the lamp, we see the light, and when we turn away from it, we are in darkness.
"As the earth travels around the sun, it whirls like a huge top. When the side of the earth on which we live is turned toward the sun, we have day. But when the earth turns around so that the sun can not shine on us, we have night.
"If the sun stopped shining, there would be no daylight, and soon there would be no heat on the earth.
"The sun is very, very hot. If it should come nearer and nearer to the earth, every plant and animal in the world would die. The rivers and the seas would dry up, and at last the great earth would melt like a ball of wax."
"How far away is the sun?" asked Harry.
"It is so far away that it would take more than a hundred years to travel the distance by the fastest railroad train."
"Is it more than a thousand miles?"
"Yes, it is more than a million miles."
"Suppose there were a road all the way to the sun. How long would it take me to walk there?"
"Let me see," said sister Mary, taking out her notebook. "If you should walk four miles an hour and ten hours a day, you would be more than six thousand years old before you could finish your journey."
"But suppose," asked Harry, his eyes bright with wonder, "some one fired a big cannon at the sun. How long would it take the cannon ball to get there?"
Mary looked in her notebook again. "If a cannon ball could be shot to the sun, it would take nine years to reach it. Now what else do you want to know about the sun, little brother?"
"I should like to know how large it is. Does any one know? Is it as large as the earth?"
"Very much larger," replied Mary. "It is so large that if it were cut up into a million parts, each one of the parts would be larger than the earth.
"If a train should run at the rate of a mile a minute, it would take five years for it to go around the sun. A train going at the same rate could travel the distance around the earth in less than three weeks."
"Then the sun must be very large," said Harry. "It is larger than anything I ever heard about. Let us call it Giant Sun."
"There are stars far away in the sky that are larger than the sun," said his sister. "And there are planets like our earth which are near the sun. But I will tell you about them some other day. Now do not forget what I have told you about Giant Sun."
"Forget! How could I, sister? It is better than any fairy tale I have ever heard. Why, you have told me enough about Giant Sun to keep me thinking all day."
From "Stories of Starland." Copyright, 1898.
By permission of the publishers, Silver, Burdett & Co.
[SUMMER SUN]
Great is the sun, and wide he goes,
Through empty heavens without repose;
And in the blue and glowing days
More thick than rain he showers his rays.
Though closer still the blinds we pull
To keep the shady parlor cool,
Yet he will find a chink or two
To slip his golden fingers through.
The dusty attic, spider clad,
He through the keyhole maketh glad;
And through the broken edge of tiles
Into the laddered hayloft smiles.
Meantime his golden face around
He bares to all the garden ground,
And sheds a warm and glittering look
Among the ivy's inmost nook.
Above the hills, along the blue,
Round the bright air with footing true,
To please the child, to paint the rose,
The gardener of the world, he goes.
—Robert Louis Stevenson.
[THE STORY OF PHAETHON]
| Phaethon | welcome | chariot | dawn |
| advice | promise | columns | fiery |
| flashed | dwelling | lightning | hurled |
You have read the true story of the great sun. Now you shall hear a strange old tale told of Giant Sun, in the days of long ago.
PHAETHON AND THE SUN CHARIOT.
Do you remember the beautiful picture of Aurora, and the story of Apollo, the driver of the sun car? Here is another picture of the sun chariot, in its flight across the heavens.
Once upon a time Phaethon, the son of Apollo, said to his mother, "I go to-day to my father's palace," and he started for the land of the sunrise.
For days and for nights he traveled until he came to a high mountain. On its top was the shining palace of the sun. It had golden columns and silver doors. On its wall were pictures of the wonders of the earth and of the sea.
But Phaethon hurried by these beautiful sights. He entered the great hall and found the Sun god just ready to drive his horses through the clouds of dawn.
"Welcome, welcome, my son!" said Apollo. "I have waited long for thy coming. What is thy wish? Tell me, and thy wish shall be granted thee."
"Oh, my father," said Phaethon, "let me drive the chariot of the sun for one day across the sky."
"No hand but mine can hold these fiery horses," said Apollo. "Change thy wish, foolish boy. You ask for death, not for honor."
"My father never breaks his promise," said Phaethon. "I will not change my wish."
"Then follow my advice," said Apollo. "Hold fast the reins. Use not the whip, and drive neither too high lest the earth freeze, nor too low lest it burn."
Phaethon sprang into the sun car and grasped the lines. The horses darted across the sky. Lower and lower they plunged. The heat of the shining sun car dried the lakes and the rivers, and burned every green thing upon the land.
The people cried for rain, and the great ruler of earth and air heard their cries, and looked down from his dwelling place. He flashed his lightnings at the mad driver, and hurled him from his seat.
Then the great ruler led the horses and the chariot to their old track across the sky. But Phaethon never rose from the cold waters of the river into which he had fallen.
[A SUNFLOWER STORY]
| Clytie | coral | blazing | Greek |
| maiden | petals | swiftest | lulled |
Clytie was a sea maiden, so the old Greek stories tell us. She lived at the bottom of the ocean. The white sea sand was her carpet, a beautiful shell was her bed, and the seaweed was her pillow.
One morning Clytie arose, put on her moss-green dress, and went to ride in her seashell boat. A pair of fishes drew her over the beautiful sea bottom. They swam around rocks with sharp, ragged edges, and they passed through forests of sea weed and coral.
Indeed, so long and pleasant was the ride that Clytie fell asleep, and she did not awaken until a big wave rolled her boat upon the shore of a green island.
Then the little maiden opened her brown eyes very wide, for she had never before seen the land. There was green grass at her feet, and such flowers as never grew in her garden at the bottom of the deep sea.
In the trees were birds whose songs sounded sweeter than the music of the waves that had so often lulled her to sleep.
Across the blue sky rode the Sun king in a chariot which shone like blazing gold.
Clytie saw that all living things looked up and smiled when the golden chariot rolled above the earth.
"Oh, that I were a land child!" she said; "then I too might gaze upon the Sun king the whole day long."
Day after day the sea maiden came to the island. There she stood hour after hour watching the bright Sun king until his golden chariot sank into the western sea.
But one evening Clytie found that she could not move. Behold, she was no longer a maid of the sea. Her dress was but a slender green stalk with dark green leaves.
Her yellow hair had become a circle of golden petals. From their midst looked out the brown eyes of Clytie, no longer a sea maiden, but a beautiful sunflower with its face turned toward the sun.
[WYNKEN, BLYNKEN, AND NOD]
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night
Sailed off in a wooden shoe—
Sailed on a river of crystal light
Into a sea of dew.
"Where are you going, and what do you wish?"
The old moon asked the three.
"We have come to fish for the herring fish
That live in this beautiful sea;
Nets of silver and gold have we,"
Said Wynken, Blynken, and Nod.
The old moon laughed and sang a song,
As they rocked in the wooden shoe;
And the wind that sped them all night long
Ruffled the waves of dew;
The little stars were the herring fish
That lived in that beautiful sea.
"Now cast your nets wherever you wish,
But never afraid are we!"
So cried the stars to the fishermen three,
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod.
All night long their nets they threw
To the stars in the twinkling foam,
Then down from the sky came the wooden shoe,
Bringing the fishermen home;
'Twas all so pretty a sail, it seemed
As if it could not be;
And some folks thought 'twas a dream they'd dreamed
Of sailing that beautiful sea;
But I shall name you the fishermen three:
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod.
Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes,
And Nod is a little head,
And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies
Is a wee one's trundle-bed;
So shut your eyes while mother sings
Of the wonderful sights that be,
And you shall see the beautiful things
As you rock in the misty sea
Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three,—
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod.—Eugene Field
From "With Trumpet and Drum." Copyright, 1892, by Mary French Field.
Published by Charles Scribner's Sons.
[A LITTLE GIRL WHO LOVED ANIMALS]
| chubby | amused | wandered | proper |
| Bonheur | eldest | firelight | passers |
| France | sewing | landscape | auburn |
A little four-year-old girl stood in her room making pictures upon the white walls. On every side could be seen drawings of horses and dogs, cows, rabbits, and sheep. The walls were covered with pictures as high as the chubby hand could reach.
In the doorway stood the father, watching his little daughter. So wonderful were her drawings for a little child that the neighbors often came into the tiny room to look at the pictures on the walls.
"My little Rosa will be an artist some day," said the father, "but she can never be a great artist because she is a girl. How I wish she were a boy!"
In those days it was not thought proper for a girl to do anything that would take her away from home. "A girl should stay in the house," people said. "She should spend her time in sewing and in helping her mother."
Rosa Bonheur.
Rosa Bonheur's home was in France. She was the eldest of four children. Her father gave lessons in drawing and made pictures for books. The little cottage in which she was born was in a beautiful part of the country. Here, with her two younger brothers and a baby sister, she lived a happy life.
Rosa loved animals, and she had many pets. Dogs that had no home came to her, and they were never turned away. She fed the wild rabbits and tamed the squirrels. If a stray horse wandered by, it was given food and water, and cared for until its owner could be found.
The child artist drew pictures of all these animals. She studied them as they ran or walked or lay down to rest.
When her little brothers were old enough to run about, they loved to follow their sister from place to place. Often they went with her to the roadside, where she made pictures for them in the sand with a pointed stick.
Sometimes her dogs came too and sat for their pictures. The passers-by stopped to see the rosy-cheeked little girl drawing animals and landscapes along the sandy way.
In the long winter evenings Rosa amused herself and her brothers by cutting pictures of animals and people from pieces of paper.
[A LITTLE GIRL WHO PAINTED ANIMALS]
| Paris | earnest | relatives | absence |
| bunch | models | galleries | cherries |
| pencil | modeled | contented | studio |
But this free and happy life came to an end all too soon. When Rosa was seven years old, the family moved to Paris, where they lived in small rooms. The street was crowded with houses, and there was no yard for the children to play in.
How Rosa longed for her old home and for the animals she loved. Sometimes she ran across the street to pet a wooden pig which stood just outside the door of a meat shop.
About this time a great sorrow came to the little Bonheur children. Their beautiful mother died, and then they were all sent away from home.
Poor little Rosa! She did not like to study or sew, and she was very unhappy in the girls' school to which she was sent. Her only pleasure was in visiting her father's studio. Here, if she could have a pencil, or a bit of clay, she was always contented.
How she begged to leave school and stay with her father! Her relatives thought this a foolish thing for her to do. "What would people think," they said, "to see a girl doing a boy's work?"
One day, when her father returned to the studio after a short absence, he found that Rosa had painted a bunch of cherries. He looked at her picture for a long time, and then he said, "If you can do as well as that, I will give you lessons."
"And I will cut off my hair and wear boy's clothes," said Rosa. "Then I can study with you, and no one will notice me." So she dressed like a boy and went everywhere with her father.
Lessons in drawing and painting now began in earnest. It was not long before she could help her father. Soon she was able to copy pictures in the famous picture galleries of Paris.
And now the girl who did not like to study books, and who hated to sew, became one of the hardest of workers. She painted from early morning until night to earn money for her father and the younger children.
At last the Bonheur family were able to have a home together once more. In a quiet street in Paris, up six flights of stairs, they found a few small rooms.
But what should they do for a garden and for a place to keep their animals? It was Rosa's greatest wish to learn to draw and paint animals from life, and she needed to study living models.
The windows of their rooms opened on a broad, flat roof. Here Rosa and her brother made a roof garden and planted flowers. Here they kept singing birds, a hen and chickens, and a pet sheep.
Every morning the two boys carried the sheep downstairs, and led it to the pasture. In the evening they carried it up the long flights of stairs to the studio. It was drawn standing and lying down, eating and sleeping. It was painted and modeled in clay, again and again, by Rosa and her brothers.