A FABLE.
A wagoner, whose business it was to transport goods from one town to another, had a fine horse, upon whose saddle he was accustomed to carry several bells, which kept up a cheerful jingling as he trudged along the road. The horse got used to these bells, and was so much pleased with them, that he seemed dull and out of spirits when, for some reason, they were left off. The wagoner, perceiving that his horse did not work so well without the bells, restored them to their place, remarking, that his horse was like himself—he liked music and merriment, and even hard work came more easy for a little recreation by the way.
There was much truth and good sense in the observation of the wagoner. “All work and no play,” says the proverb, “makes Jack a dull boy.” It is right and proper that we should devote some part of our time to amusement, for by this means we are cheered and enlivened, and qualified to engage in our severer duties with good effect. But we should be careful of two points: first, that we choose innocent amusements, and second, that we do not permit our recreations so far to engross our thoughts or our time, as to interfere with the sober business of life.
The Crane Family.
I am not going to talk of Ichabod Crane, or Jeremiah Crane, or of their wives or families. I shall leave these respectable people for the present, and say a few words about certain long-legged birds which are very interesting, though not very familiarly known to most of us. The storks and cranes are so nearly alike that they might seem to be cousins. They have both enormously long legs and bills, and seem particularly well fitted to wading in the water—a thing they can do without rolling up their pantaloons. Look at this tall fellow at the head of this article, and tell me if he need be afraid of wetting his clothes by taking a ramble in a brook.
The engraving represents a crane. Let me first say a few words of his cousin stork. This bird, that is spoken of in the Bible as one that “knoweth her appointed time,” is not found among us, but it is well known in some parts of Europe. In Holland, it arrives in small bands or flocks, about the first of April, and universally meets with a kind and welcome reception from the inhabitants. Returning year after year to the same town, and the same chimney-top, it reoccupies its deserted nest; and the gladness these birds manifest in again taking possession of their dwelling, and the attachment they testify towards their benevolent hosts, are familiar in the mouths of every one. Nor is the stork less remarkable for its affection towards its young; and the story is well known of a female bird, which, during the conflagration at Delft, chose rather to perish with her young than abandon them to their fate. Incubation and the rearing of the young being over by August, the stork, in the early part of that month, prepares for its departure. The north of Africa, and especially Egypt, are the places of its winter sojourning, for there the marshes are unfrozen, its food is in abundance, and the climate is congenial. Previous to setting out on their airy journey, multitudes assemble from the surrounding districts, chattering with their bills as if in consultation. On the appointed night, a period which appears to be universally chosen by the migratory tribes, they mount into the higher regions of the air, and sail away southwards to their destined haven.
The nest of the stork is formed of twigs and sticks, and the eggs, from three to five in number, and nearly as large as those of a goose, are of a yellowish white. Of the countless multitudes in which the stork assembles in order to perform its periodical migrations, some idea may be entertained from Dr. Shaw’s account of the flocks which he witnessed leaving Egypt and passing over Mount Carmel, each of which was half a mile in breadth, and occupied a space of three hours in passing. When reposing, the stork stands upon one leg, with the neck bent backwards, and the head resting between the shoulders. Such also is its attitude when watching for its prey. Its motions are stately, and it stalks along with slow and measured steps. Its plumage is pure white.
The cranes bear a close resemblance to the white stork, which we have been describing, but become even more familiar in some of the countries they inhabit, and, in consequence of their larger size, render more essential service in the removal of carrion, offal, and other nuisances. This important office they share with the vultures, and, like those birds, are universally privileged from all annoyance, in return for so meritorious an exertion of their natural propensities. They seem to be constantly attracted by the heaps of offensive substances collected in the villages and towns, which they devour without scruple, and in immense quantities.
The adjutant arrives in Bengal, in India, before the rainy season. Its gape is enormous, and its voracity astonishing; not that it is ferocious towards man; quite the contrary, for it is peaceable, and even timid; but small quadrupeds are swallowed without any scruple. In the stomach of one, as Latham states, were found a land tortoise ten inches long, and a large black cat entire.