BARNYARD ILLUSIONS.
SOMEBODY in one of our exchanges tells an amusing story of his attempt at studying human nature in the barnyard. He placed a large piece of looking-glass against the trunk of a tree, and scattered corn in front of it, then took a convenient position and watched. Some of the hens came up with cautious tread, to meet what they supposed were new acquaintances, and were simply astonished and bewildered by the result. Others pecked at the glass, and were anxious to get up a fight with the supposed intruders.
The high-stepping rooster was bent on a victory. He advanced with skillful side steps, according to rooster fashion, and was amazed to lose sight of his enemy. Of course he had stepped too far to the left or right, and so gotten out of range of the glass, but this he did not understand. He gave an astonished crow, looked about him fiercely, saw no one, finally gave up and went back for a kernel of corn; behold, just in front of it was that other rooster, looking fierce. He made another attempt for a fight, with exactly the same result as before; but the second surrender to mystery brought him quite near to the mirror and his enemy. He ruffled his feathers, so did the other rooster. He made a dash forward, so did the other, and—the rooster was astonished; but you are prepared to hear that the mirror was broken into bits. The question which seemed to puzzle that rooster for hours afterwards was, What became of his enemy, that he could not find even a feather of him lying about the yard?
A GOOD man in France is said to have invented an instrument with a very fine tube to be inserted into the ear, by means of which sounds can be heard by the deaf.
Professor Dussouchet saw the experiment tried upon many deaf mutes, and in every case with success. Sounds are sent into a large bell-shaped contrivance; thence they pass down the fine tube and strike the tympanum (ear drum).
L.
A SONG FROM THE HEART.
I NEED A CHRISTMAS DINNER.
THE BOYHOOD OF TITIAN (Tish’-yan).
Pœta nascitur, non fit.
THERE, that is not Greek or German, but Latin, and some day your Pansy tongue will talk it off as readily, no doubt, as it now casts English to your cat. Won’t it be just splendid for you to be in the High School—and not at the foot of your class, either—reading Cæsar or Cicero or Horace?
STUDYING ITS CHARACTER.
“But what does that Latin mean?”
It means, “A poet is born, not made.”
“So is every one ‘born.’”
No, not born a poet, neither can be made into a poet by study; that is, a real true poet. Almost everybody can read poetry, and love it and make rhymes; but that is not being a poet.
You might just as well now learn that bit of Latin and surprise your mamma some day at the dinner-table by saying: “Pœta nascitur, non fit.” The next time you can say: “Orator nascitur, non fit,” for that is true too. It is true of an artist, and many, many others. We all have different gifts at birth. (See Rom. xii. 6.) Johnny Brown can sing and play upon almost any instrument. He is a born musician. His brother can’t play even upon a jew’s-harp, but he can make one. He can make a watch. His fingers can do all sorts of wonderful things such as Johnny’s cannot. Boys differ; girls differ. They can’t be made alike. One has one gift, one another.
Titian was born an artist.
What do you suppose he is doing there, one hand upon the limb of that tree?
“Going up for chestnuts.”
No; try again.
“Going to climb for a crow’s nest.”
Not he. See that bit of a branch in his right hand. He is looking at it to see its shape, the form and color of the leaves, and all about it. He will paint that whole tree in a little while—no, no; paint one on canvas just like it. When he is a few years older he will paint portraits, then great elegant pictures.
He was an Italian boy, born in 1477.
Columbus was then about thirty-five years old. He had just made his great voyage to Iceland and got back when Titian was a baby. I guess Titian saw the born voyager and discoverer, and as likely as not painted his portrait or ships. But one of his masterpieces, or greatest works, is St. Peter, Martyr; another, The Presentation of the Virgin.
L.