[to be continued.]
[THE ROCKS.]
BY CHARLES BARNARD.
THE ROCKS TELLING THEIR STORY.
Not long ago I saw some men at work in a stone quarry on Second Avenue, at the corner of Seventieth Street, New York. In this part of the city there are many empty lots not yet built upon. These vacant squares are in some places covered with great masses of rough rocks, that must be cleared away before the houses can be built. So it happens there are stone quarries right in the midst of the city. In talking to you about the sea, you may remember I told you the world is like a great picture-book. Here is one of the leaves lying wide open, where we may read a strange old story. Those of you who live in New York can go up to Seventieth Street and see it; but the men are busy tearing it down, and before you get there, there may be nothing left but a fine row of cellars or a block of houses. Many of you can not visit New York, so I carried my camera to the place, and took a photograph of the rocky wall. The engraver has made a picture from my photograph, and here you can see it. At the left you can look down Seventieth Street, and see part of the rocky hill on the next block. On top is an old shanty, a tree or two, and a tumble-down fence. Directly in front is the solid wall of stone, just as it has lain there for perhaps tens of thousands of years. In the foreground are the broken fragments of rock that have been torn down by the blasts. One of the quarry-men looked up from his work just as I set up my camera, and got nicely caught in the picture.
You must study these rocks. See how they are split into thin sheets and layers. The rocky wall is full of horizontal seams. It looks as if made of thin layers laid one over the other. The middle part of the rock, that is in the shadow of the overhanging layers, is divided into very fine layers, so close together it is hard to tell them apart, yet you can see by the broken edge against the sky that all the rocky pile is in sheets and layers one above the other.
I carried some of the small pieces home, and rubbed them together over a sheet of paper, and soon had a small heap of black and white dust. Here we have two things about these rocks. The picture shows you the rock is arranged in layers. Rubbing the pieces together showed that it was made up of fine dust that when wet would resemble mud or wet sand. These things plainly point to the water. The rock must have come from the sea.
The rain and the frost may have begun the work. The rain wet some old rocks, and the cold turned the water to ice, and the ice worked its thin fingers into every crack, and broke off millions of small pieces. The spring torrents swept this dust into the streams, and these carried it to the sea that then covered all this part of the country. Perhaps it was the surf beating on some ancient shore that ground up the rocks; but of this we can not be so sure as we may be concerning some other rocks we shall see presently. One thing is pretty plain. The loose dust or mud was swept hither and thither by the tides and currents. Very likely the moon arranged all these sheets of stone. The tides rose and fell as the moon swung round the world. Each tide carried up some of the soft glittering and silvery mud, and left it on the shore to dry in the sun. The next tide brought a little more, and laid it over the first sheet. In this way, for perhaps hundreds of years, the moon bid the sea spread carpets of mud and soft sand one over the other upon its floor. Under the shadow of the overhanging part of the rock it seems to be of quite a different kind. Something happened, and the tides and currents brought a different kind of material.
In time the soft mud became pressed together into solid rock, and was lifted above the sea. Perhaps not suddenly, but so slowly that a thousand years passed before it was all dry. Then terrible days came. The rock was bent and twisted by strains and heavings as the earth moved. None of these layers as we see them to-day are level. All are tilted up toward the northeast. Hot rocks, liquid, like melted lead, burst up and filled the cracks with new kinds of stone. The old rocks were frightfully burned, and changed so much that in looking at some of the pieces we can not be quite sure whether they came from the sea or not. For this reason they are sometimes called the changed rocks. However, much of the rock to be found in this part of the city clearly came from the sea; and perhaps the whole of it, except that which has been melted, was born in the ocean.
Afterward the pile of rocks was buried deep under solid ice, that ground and crushed over it as it moved toward the south. To-day you can see where the ice tore off great pieces, and scratched and polished the low hills into their present curious shapes.
I have chosen these rocks on Second Avenue because they tell so much. They show you how to read the great picture-book of the world. How do we know all these things happened? Because we see such things going on to-day all about us. The sea, the ice, the wind, the tides, and the rain are ever at work tearing down and building up. We can see the sea making sand and mud that will one day be solid rock and dry land. Surely these things are worth studying, and you must look about for other rocks, and try to read their story.
Everywhere in New York city, and in many other Eastern cities, you will see a rock that you may be very sure came from the sea. A smooth and beautiful stone that is like a story-book telling of old beaches where the surf beat with terrible fury in great storms, where the tides kept time with the moon, and of long summer days when the sea was smooth, and gentle waves fell on the white sand glistening in the sun. This is the brown stone used in building houses. It is a real sandstone.
Upon the beach you saw the sand arranged in wavy lines and curves by the water. Each creamy wave that ran up the beach left a trace showing just how far it went. The smaller and lighter particles of sand swept along by the water were dropped just at the place where the water stopped for an instant before it turned back. As the wave retreated, you remember the larger grains of sand were to be seen sorted out along the lower edge of the beach.
Look at these blocks of sandstone. Here are the same markings. Look carefully and you will soon find a piece where the sand is arranged in horizontal layers just as the water left it. Perhaps you can count a hundred layers in a single piece of stone. Some will be thick, and full of large grains of sand. There must have been a high tide that day, or perhaps there was a bad storm. Some of them will be thin, and of about the same thickness for several inches. It must have been pleasant weather then, when the sea was smooth, and each tide brought up about as much sand one day as another.
The masons in getting out the stone from the quarry cut across the layers in every direction, so that these marks are not everywhere equally plain. Yet with a little search you can soon find a perfect picture of that old, old beach. Each piece bears the finger-marks of the sea, the tracings of the moon and tides, the very handwriting of the waves. Afterward the white sand was stained with iron rust. The water bearing the iron left it mixed with the sand, and when it became dry, and was lifted above the water, the iron bound all the sand firmly together into this beautiful red sandstone, this story-book of the sea.
THE CAPTURED MOUSE.
[THE PRINCESS SUNNYLOCKS AND THE RUNAWAY SUNBEAM.]
BY LILLIE E. BARR.
One day a Sunbeam determined to run away from all his merry brothers and sisters, and go upon an excursion by himself.
And as his mamma, the Moon, was off on a visit to the other side of the earth, and his papa, the Sun, was busy flirting with all the brooks and flowers he could find, instead of minding the little Sunbeams, as he had been told to do by the Lady Moon, he thought it a capital time.
So making use of the limbs of an old elm-tree to hide him from his papa's view, he slipped through the dancing leaves, and stopped just one minute on the outside of a gray old palace to consider what he should do with himself.
"Oh, you darling Sunbeam!" called a sweet voice from a little latticed window, "how ever did you get there? You are the first sunbeam that ever managed to slip through that old elm's leaves. Do come in and play with me."
"With all my heart," answered the Sunbeam, gliding through the open casement right down beside the loveliest little girl; and before she could say a word he had played at hide-and-seek among her golden curls, peeped into her bright blue eyes, and kissed her rosy lips a dozen times.
The little girl did not get angry; she just laughed, and said, "Oh, you dear Sunbeam!" And then she added, sadly, "No one kisses me, now that my mamma has gone away."
"Where did she go to?" asked the merry Sunbeam.
"Ah! that is what I do not know. But come, and I will show you her picture;" and as she spoke the Princess let the Sunbeam into a room where hung the portrait of a lovely lady, whose rosy lips looked as though they would say, "My darling child," and whose white hands seemed as though they would lift the Princess up and fold her to her breast.
"See, this is my mamma," she cried. "She used to call me Princess Sunnylocks, but no one calls me that now; for since the other Queen came in her place I have been so lonely and so sad. Ah! if I only knew where my mamma was gone, I would go and find her out; for I am sure she wants her little Sunnylocks. Oh, I must go to her! Dear Sunbeam, tell me where you think she has gone."
The Sunbeam glided first upon the rich gilt frame, and then he kissed the small white hands, and then he kissed the lovely face all over, and as he came back to the Princess, said, "She is just like you; and she is so beautiful that she must have gone to Fairy-Land."
"Gone to Fairy-Land," cried the little Princess. "Why, if she has gone there, so will I; I too will go to Fairy-Land." And catching up her cloak and hood, she fled as fast as her feet could carry her, away from the gray old palace, and out into the forest that bounded her father's kingdom.
All day she travelled gayly on, as happy as the birds who brought her berries, or the squirrels who brought her nuts; and just as evening fell, she found a lovely spot where seven oaks grew, and underneath their shadow was a fairy ring, as soft as velvet and as fresh and green as could be. Here she determined to pass the night; so, commending herself to the care of the good God, she lay down in the centre of the ring and fell fast asleep.
The next morning when she opened her bright blue eyes she had to shut them quickly; for there was the runaway Sunbeam laughing right down into her pretty face from among the branches of the largest oak.
"Oh, I am so glad you have come, you dear, dear Sunbeam," she cried, "for I am sure you know the way to Fairy-Land."
"To be sure I do; but you must go to the great white Stork who lives in the ruins over there, and he will tell you where it is, and how to get there too. Come now with me, and I will find you some sweet ripe dew-berries."
The Princess tripped by the Sunbeam's side, and at last they came to the ruins. Then she knocked at the door, but the Sunbeam jumped through the window right down upon the Papa Stork's shoulder.
"Ah! you are welcome, my dear Sunbeam—take a chair, I pray," said the Papa Stork, gravely.
"So I will; but first send some one to open the door, for a sweet little princess knocks there to gain admission."
Mr. Stork opened the door himself, and led little Sunnylocks in, who said,
"Dear Mr. and Mrs. Stork, I bring you a gift of sweet ripe dew-berries which the Sunbeam found, and I gathered fresh from the grass this morning."
"We are much obliged, my dear, and will accept them gratefully," said Mrs. Stork; "and now thou and the Sunbeam will stay and take breakfast with us, and then thou mayst go upon thy journey."
Sunnylocks thanked Mrs. Stork, and after she had eaten her breakfast she inquired the way to Fairy-Land.
"Why, I thought every bird and beast and flower knew the way. But then thou art neither bird nor beast nor flower, consequently thou canst not know the way. Fairy-Land lies on the other side of the moon."
"Alas! alas! how can I get there, then?" said the little Princess, sadly.
"Cheer up thy heart, my pretty maiden, for I will direct thee to one who will take thee to Fairy-Land if thou art as brave as thou art fair," said Mr. Stork.
"I fear nothing," cried the Princess, "and will brave all dangers to reach dear Fairy-Land."
"Then thou must go three days' journey through this wood, when thou wilt come to a range of mountains; climb that one whose head is crowned with clouds, and there, upon a projecting cliff, stands King Eagle's castle. He alone can take thee to Fairy-Land."
The Princess then kissed the Storks all round, and the Sunbeam kissed her, after which they ran upon their journey, seeking berries, and playing hide-and-seek the whole day long.
At last night came, and Sunnylocks lay down beneath an old oak-tree. Here she slept sweetly until the Sunbeam coaxed a frolicking Breeze Fairy to shake some dew-drops down upon her lovely face. That made her laugh and shake her golden curls, and then she ran a race with them, until she was quite tired out, when they caught and kissed her.
Presently they met a merry little Robin-Redbreast, who was busy getting his breakfast, and he invited them to sit down and have some too, which they accordingly did; and Robin had a long story to tell of how a wicked white owl had eaten a dear little wren who was his sweet companion.
When he had finished, the Sunbeam vowed he would tease that owl all day, and so did the Breeze Fairy.
The Princess now thanked the Robin, who sang her a sweet song, and even accompanied her a little way; then they parted, and Sunnylocks ran gayly on her journey.
Just at sunset she found a lovely bank of white violets, which, of course you know, are the Fairy Queen's own flowers, shielded by her magic power from all evil; consequently on them Sunnylocks slept sweetly all that night.
When she awoke she looked about for the Sunbeam, but neither he nor the Breeze Fairy was to be seen; so she ate her breakfast, and then began her last day's journey.
At last she reached the mountains, but as it was fast growing dark, she began to search for a resting-place. Now as she looked uncertainly about her, a beautiful long-eared Rabbit came out of a little cave in the mountain-side, and asked her what she sought.
"For a place to pass the night, madam," said the Princess Sunnylocks.
"Come in and sleep in my pretty house. There is a soft bed in the warmest corner, and there is new fruit for your supper," replied the grave gray Rabbit.
The Princess readily consented, and was soon asleep in the Rabbit's cozy bed. The next morning, after thanking the Rabbit for her kindness, she began her journey again; but the mountain was rough and steep, so she was forced to travel very slowly now; but as she clambered wearily up, out jumped Sunbeam, and kissed her on both cheeks before she could say, "Oh!"
"Where have you been, you darling Sunbeam?" cried she, clapping both her hands.
"Oh, I have had such a glorious time! We killed the owl, and then I ran down into a great city, where a bad man was beating his poor horse, and I gave him such a stroke right on his head that all the people cried: 'He is dead! he is dead! A sun-stroke, poor man! Take him to the hospital!' And then all the papas and mammas looked at the tell-tale mercury, and forbade their boys to play ball that day."
"Ah, you naughty Sunbeam!" cried the little Princess—"not naughty for hurting the bad man, but for getting all the little boys shut up."
At that the Sunbeam laughed, and said, "Oh, that did not matter; most of them slipped away, anyhow; boys do do such things, you know," he added, gravely.
"What else did you do?" asked Sunnylocks.
"Oh, I kissed all the little girls I met, and I freckled the runaway boys, and I teased all the fat people, and I made a crying baby laugh by jumping on the wall, and I went into the King's palace and kissed the Queen before his face, and I did ever so many things besides."
"And now you have come to help me to Fairy-Land," said the little Princess, gayly.
"Yes, and I might have carried you there, only I was afraid my lady mamma would set me to work again," laughingly said the Sunbeam.
"You are a lazy fellow," said sweet Sunnylocks; and then they went on, the Princess laughing gayly at his freaks, for never did Sunbeam behave so wildly before or since. In fact, he performed so many wonderful feats that Sunnylocks never felt tired once, and was surprised when she found herself fairly in the Eagle's castle, and standing before that monarch himself.
He listened gravely to all her entreaties to take her to Fairy-Land, and then he stretched his mighty pinions, and bade her follow him.
This both the Princess and the Sunbeam did, gliding swiftly down the mountain-side until they reached Cloud-Land, where the Eagle bade her step into a tiny skiff made of a fleecy cloud.
No sooner had she done so than away it floated, King Eagle just a little in advance, and the Sunbeam making beautiful rainbows over it, just to amuse himself and her.
Soon the skiff moored in a lovely arbor, where the water made sweet music as it rippled by the amber steps, up which the Princess now went alone, for the Sunbeam fled back to the mountain-side again, as he was afraid his lady mamma would set him to work.
And now if you want to know what Fairy-Land looks like, you just ask your baby brother or sister the first time you see them smiling in their sleep, and they will tell you; for only babies and angels have the right words to describe it with.
All I know is that Sunnylocks was led to the palace of the Fairy Queen, which is built of all the lovely actions which are unheeded in this world of ours, and that she dropped upon her knees and said:
"Dear Fairy Queen, the Sunbeam saw my beautiful mamma's picture, and he said she was so lovely that she must have come to Fairy-Land. Oh, if she has, please give her to me, for I want her—oh, so much!" and little Sunnylocks stretched out her arms as though to clasp her dear mamma in them.
"Dear child," said the Fairy Queen, "thy mother is not here; she went to the Land of the Blessed to dwell; but be thou of good cheer, and I will send thee thither also." And as she spoke she came down from her gleaming throne, and taking Sunnylocks by the hand, she led her to the shore of the mighty Ocean Space.
Here she waved her magic wand, and instantly a bark made of a purple cloud, with golden masts and rosy sails, drifted swiftly to the shore; and after a loving farewell, Sunnylocks was borne by it onward, and still onward.
At last she stepped upon a land whose glory far exceeded that of all God's other worlds; and as she stood upon the wondrous shore, great bands of little children came singing down to meet her, led by One beyond all beautiful, who smiled upon them as they pressed about His steps.
Now when Sunnylocks saw the beauty of the children, and perceived that He who walked with them was indeed the King, she feared she would not be received; but He stooped down, and set His seal upon her brow, while the children robed her in such garments as they wore, and then the great King led her toward a lovely lady seated on the ocean's shore, as though she watched for some one.
But as soon as Sunnylocks beheld her lovely face, she cried, "My beautiful mamma!" and this time the lips did say, "My darling child," and the white arms did fold her closely to her breast; and all the children rejoiced with great joy because Sunnylocks had found her dear mamma, and come to dwell forever with them.
"But what became of the runaway Sunbeam?"
Well, when the Sun, his papa, discovered that he was gone, he sent six of his brothers to catch and bring him back; but the little Sunbeam was too fleet for them, for before they could even touch him, he jumped right into the Lady Moon's arms, and as he was the very littlest and the very youngest Sunbeam, it was not likely his mamma would send him back to be punished.
So the six little Sunbeams went back, and standing before their papa, with their little fingers in their sweet little mouths, they all told him what the Lady Moon had said.
At that the Sun got into a tremendous passion, and hid himself and all the little Sunbeams behind some ugly clouds for three whole days; and when he next came out, the astronomers declared they saw dark spots upon his face.