I heard of one sailor whose mates did his hair so tightly that he couldn’t shut his eyes, and he nearly got punished for staring at his commanding officer,—a hair-breadth escape, as somebody called it.
knots and the north pole.
My feathered friends tell me of a bird called the knot, something like a snipe in shape, whose color is ashen gray in winter and bright Indian red in summer. They say he is very particular about the weather, and likes best fine bracing days with sunshine and a moderate breeze; so, in winter he flies south, but in summer he goes farther north than man has yet been able to go.
Now, I’ve been told that the farther north you go, the colder is the climate; but this bird, who likes pleasant weather so much, goes beyond the coldest places known! Perhaps he has found a cheerful and comfortable summer home, bright and bracing, somewhere near the North Pole, on which somebody will find him, may be, one of these days, quietly perched, preening himself, and looking at a distance like a bit of red cloth on a broomstick. If he has found a cozy spot away up there, he’s smarter than any Arctic explorer I ever heard of.
the trailing arbutus.
Johnstown, Pa., March, 1878.
Dear Jack-in-the-Pulpit: Some of your other chicks may like to hear what my uncle has just told me about the mayflower, or trailing arbutus, so as to know where to hunt for it as soon as spring comes. It grows chiefly in New England, New York, and Pennsylvania, and is always to be found among mountains, hills, and high lands. Late in March or early in April, under the brown and withered leaves of last year, you will find it—cool, shiny, fragrant, with clusters of star-like blossoms, the color being of all shades of pink from very deep to a pinkish white. Yet farther under the leaves you will find the trailing stems. I hope many will join in the search for this first sweet flower of spring.—Your true friend, Amanda S. K.
mira in cygnus.
On clear nights, during the first half of this month, my dears, the star called Mira, in the constellation Cygnus (or “The Swan”), can be seen in full luster. This is what the owl tells me; and he adds that it is one of those strange stars which vary in brightness. It shines for about a fortnight very brightly indeed; then by degrees it fades away, until, at the end of three months, it cannot be seen. After remaining five months out of sight, it gradually brightens up again. May be you’ve heard all about this before; but now is your time to see Mira twinkle her bright eye at you. I’ll take a peep at her from my pulpit, myself, if I can manage to catch sight of her.
a rare specimen.