Part 6

It may with truth be said, there is no weariness in the contemplation of nature, on the contrary, a relish for her simple delights and beauties formed in early life, remains with us to the latest hours of our existence; and even if the world have engrossed the advancing years of life, the mind naturally reverts with pleasure and tender satisfaction to those early days when the country walk was anticipated as a high gratification, and enjoyed with a relish which belongs only to those which are innocent. As the happy party passed down the lane, Harry observed the broom (now hanging its yellow riches as it were to tempt the passenger), covered with the gossamer. “Dear grandpapa, how thick the cobwebs cover the broom,” he observed; “how can it be done?” “That fine filmy substance, my dear, is called gossamer; it is formed by the flying spider, which in traversing the air for food shoots out those fine filmy threads, which are made to look so thick by being borne down by the dew.” “Well may we say,” remarked Mrs. Monson “that the study of nature’s works is delightful, as well as the subjects inexhaustible, the more we examine, the further we search, so much the more shall we have reason to admire and adore the Divine artist.” “True, my dear,” replied Mr. Elmer, “nor is the power and wisdom of the Creator manifested more strongly in any thing than in the formation of those countless myriads of living creatures we call insects; though diminutive in point of size, in regard to numbers they are unquestionably the most distinguished of the works of nature, for they pervade every situation, the water, the air, the bowels of the earth; they exist in wood, upon animals, decayed vegetables, all kinds of flesh, in every stage of its health and decay. Of these, multitudes

——‘Escape The grosser eye of man: for if the worlds In worlds inclos’d, should on his senses burst, From cates ambrosial, and the nectar’d bowl, He would abhorrent turn.’

“But, my little Ellen,” added Mr. Elmer, calling his favorite pet, “look at that pretty Red-breast sitting on that fallen tree. I dare say he is waiting for his companion the fagot-maker.” “Oh I wish he would go home with me,” said the little girl, “I would so love him, and feed him so nicely.” “Let him alone, and he will pay your window a visit when the weather gets a great deal colder, and the snow is on the ground. Then you may give him some crumbs, and he will repay you with a sweet song.” “Yes,” said Joanna, “we all love Robin Red-breast; mamma has given us several sweet descriptions of this dear little bird. But, grandpapa, I never saw a nest of Red-breasts.” “It generally builds near the roots of trees, my dear, in some concealed spot near the ground. The little nest is composed of dried leaves, mixed with hair and moss, and lined throughout with feathers. In order more effectually to conceal it, the bird is said to cover it with leaves, suffering only a narrow winding entrance under the heap to be left. Its pleasing familiarity has caused the pretty little bird to have some peculiar denomination, indicative of its social habits, in several countries. The inhabitants of Bornholm (in Denmark), call it Tommi Siden; the Norwegians, Peter Rosmad; the Germans, Thomas Gierdel; and we, as you know, Robin Red-breast.” “And by far the prettiest name, too,” said Harry, as he trudged by the side of his grandpapa, every now and then looking up, with a countenance fraught with curiosity and pleasure, to that of his mild and intelligent grandfather. Thus conversing, they reached the end of the lane, and turning a corner, the farm of honest John Wilson was seen just peeping through the trees of a large orchard, the fruit of which hung in rich abundance on some remarkably fine and handsome trees. The grass of the orchard was green and fresh as the spring, a fine sow and a numerous litter of nice little white pigs seemed to be in the full enjoyment of a stolen ramble in this land of plenty, while a rough little pony, a fine milch ass, and a frolicsome little foal seemed equally pleased with their quarters. The orchard was divided from the road by a narrow ditch and luxuriant quickset hedge, clipped with the utmost neatness, and so thick as to be impervious to man or beast. Having passed this promising part of the farmer’s domain, our party came in front of the building. It was one of those ancient mansions, a few of which now exist, that from having been the residence of the opulent country gentlemen of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, have been converted into substantial farm-houses. On one side of the heavy porch grew a huge bay-tree, throwing its dark shadow even round the corner in which it stood, as if to screen from observation the dilapidation of a building, with which it seemed coeval; on the other side was a pyracantha rising with vigorous shoot even to the chamber windows, its bright red berries contrasting with its sober foliage and the variegated leaves of a vine, which also was trained over the front of the building. By the opening on each side of the porch, stood two heavy carved stone jars, containing each a myrtle, apparently cut down every season, and studiously kept as round as possible, scarcely one twig advancing before another, and in perfect consistency with the solid and substantial nature of the vases which contained them, as well as every thing around. Before this substantial building, was no lawn or sweep, no clumps, no shrubberies, but a spacious garden cut into regular walks; some gravelled, edged with box, others grass. A few enormous espalier trees were seen, on which blushed in the noon-day sun some remarkably fine apples; and in a narrow border, surrounding two square grass plats before the house, were rosemary, rue, sweet-brier, marigolds, China asters, hollyhocks, and other varieties of late blowing flowers, mingling their bright hues. On the grass plat was spread a sail-cloth, with seeds drying in the sun, and a little cottager’s child sat near, shelling kidney-beans. Within the open casement of one of the windows a fine tortoise-shell cat reposed in state, the heat of the sun making her variegated coat almost to emit sparks of fire. Before the porch, full in the path, lay stretched at his length, a very large greyhound, who seemed too much to enjoy his slumbers to think of giving way to the visitants, as, opening the white gate from the green bordering the road, they proceeded up the path to this abode of apparent substantial comfort. Not a creature but the little girl shelling the beans was to be seen, and on inquiring of her, they found the poor child was dumb. A pretty loud knock at the door however soon brought the mistress of the mansion to the open window, and as quickly to the door when her guests were perceived. “Bless you, madam, I ask your pardon, I hope you have not been waiting long, but we be all so busy to-day, the gipsies might have ran away with the house, and we never the wiser.” While dame Wilson was apologizing, Mr. Elmer was observing that she presented a model which was daily becoming more rare, and the loss of which, like every other good, will perhaps not be appreciated at its full value, until it is not to be redeemed. Mrs. Wilson appeared about forty-five, comely, but not too stout for activity. Her dear blue eye, healthful bloom, active step, and kindly manner, almost instantly prepossessed in her favour, and every observation of her judicious management, and perfect propriety in her station, soon ripened that involuntary favour into esteem for her useful character. “We are come to inquire, if you can let us have some of your nice honey this season, Mrs. Wilson?” said Mrs. Monson. “I dare say you may, ma’am,” replied the good dame, “but don’t stand here,—and you, sir, [to Mr. Elmer,] and these darlings,” as she severally kissed the children, “pray walk into the house; you will excuse its not being in order, for as I was saying, we have been mighty busy this morning. If you will sit down a bit, I will get the little dears some cakes.” “Do not trouble yourself to do that, I pray,” said Mrs. Monson, “they really do not require any refreshment.” “Oh! but they must try my cakes, I have just been baking, as you may see,—I am all over flour:” and she brushed a little flour off her neckkerchief as she spoke, the extreme neatness and cleanness of her dress little indicating she had been employed in the manner she mentioned. Every thing in the house, or keeping-room, denoted comfort and neatness; a dresser covered with a cloth white as a curd,—beneath it a goodly sight of copper and brass utensils, above as fair a show of pewter, tin, and earthenware: an immense fire-place, the open part of it so far modernized as to have, instead of dog’s, a range bright as a drawing-room stove, above the mantel-board a fowling-piece, two pistols, and a hanger were suspended in awful array; in the front ground four old-fashioned brass candlesticks, a modern japanned chamber candlestick, with snuffers and tray, and in the middle a large brown earthen jar, filled with hollyhock and Michaelmas daisies. The floor of this apartment was of stone, remarkably white, and at the bottom of it a large dining-table, polished by the labour of the damsels of the farm, attracted the attention, as it literally reflected the form that passed before it. To make up the furniture of this _living room_ were, beside the usual chairs of wainscot, two caned, and armed for the elders of the family, and whose ample seats were rendered comfortable by soft leather cushions; they were curiously carved, as was also the foot of a small round table, which appeared to be the accompaniment of the farmer’s chair. Having remained in this spacious apartment a few minutes, Mrs. Wilson returned to the party laden with good cheer for the children, which she soon arranged on a table near the large cheerful window. Fresh-made butter, cream cheese, baked fruit, and beautiful little loaves, as well as light cakes, presently invited the visitants to do honour to her housewifery skill; milk, whey, and mead forming the beverage to the feast. “And how are your daughters, Mrs. Wilson? I have not seen them; I hope they are well, and yet with you.” “Oh yes, ma’am, Susan is gone with the butter and poultry to market this morning, and Betty, poor girl, has been up all night with Jenny.” “What, have you a servant ill then?” inquired Mrs. Monson, in a sympathizing tone. “No, thank God, not so, ma’am; Jenny is our best cow, poor beast, but I forgot, you did not know that when I spoke. She has been very bad, and Betty never leaves the poor dumb animals to the men alone, but sits up to see they are properly attended to; I think she has saved many a poor beast by her care,—and they cost so much money, it is very necessary to attend to them.” “Will you have a good season with your bees, think you?” inquired Mr. Elmer. “I think we shall, sir, but we have not examined the weight of the hives yet.” “You do not destroy your bees to obtain their riches, do you, Mrs. Wilson?” said Mrs. Monson. “No, indeed, ma’am, if that were necessary, I would not keep them, if I gained ever so much by them.” “But you are obliged to rob them of their harvest, are you not?” “Why, yes, sir, that we certainly must do in some degree, but yet we attend to and feed them, and they soon recover their loss; but will you walk and look at the hives?” “With pleasure, if not interrupting you too much?” “My baking is all over, therefore I can readily attend you,” replied the good-humoured woman; and they proceeded to the apiary,—Ellen having attached herself to nice Mrs. Wilson.

The apiary was judiciously chosen, a little nook in a southern aspect, quite open to the sun, but sheltered from the wind, and in the vicinity abundance of flowers and sweet herbs; every spot around clear and free from weeds, decayed vegetables, or any thing in which insects might harbour, or noisome smells be produced. The spot was sufficiently near to the house to give constant opportunity of attending to them in the feeding time, and yet so sheltered as not to be subjected to interruption of noises or passengers, which greatly inconvenience these industrious insects. Mrs. Wilson was particularly successful with her bees, although, except in not destroying them, she had not adopted any of the improved methods of management. The children longed to ask a thousand questions, but so much time had been taken up by this feast and Mrs. Wilson’s caresses, that Mr. Elmer could only order his winter store of honey, and thank Mrs. Wilson for her kindness, before he was obliged to summon his young companions to return. After many invitations on the part of the hospitable dame, and many promises from Mr. Elmer, they bade Mrs. Wilson farewell, and proceeded by the open road to the rectory, Mr. Elmer having ordered his phaeton to be in readiness by the time of his return.

The discourse during the walk home naturally turned upon the bees, and Harry inquired what his mamma meant about destroying the bees. “It has hitherto been usual, my dear,” she replied, “when taking the honey collected from the flowers by these little busy insects, to take their lives also, reserving first a few to keep up the stock.” “And how do they do this, mamma; are they not afraid of being stung?” “The common method is, my dear, to dig a hole in the ground near the hive or hives to be taken, and put a stick with a piece of rag tied to it into the place, the rag having been dipped in melted brimstone as the ends of matches are; this rag is set fire to, and the hive is immediately placed over the hole, the earth being instantly thrown up all round, so that none of the smoke may pass away. In less than a quarter of an hour the poor bees are seemingly all dead, but if they are not, they are soon rendered so by being buried in the earth that is returned into the hole. It is indeed by this last unnecessary act that they are absolutely killed, for it has been ascertained by experience, that most of the bees would have recovered from the effects of the fume, and that a careful mode of conducting the operation would prevent any further injury.”

“Mrs. Wilson told you, grandpapa, that bees are very much troubled by the insects, did she not?” “Yes, my dear, their enemies are many and various; vermin, insects, and birds are among them. It is said that the earwigs steal into the hives at night, and drag out bee after bee, sucking out their vitals and leaving nothing but their skins or scalps, like so many trophies of their butchery. Wasps and hornets are however the most formidable enemies the bee has to encounter. But, my dear Harry,” continued Mr. Elmer, “what will you say, if I tell you I knew a boy who was a great destroyer of bees, from being so fond of them as to eat them.” “Oh no, grandpapa, that is impossible, you are laughing at me now because I am so inquisitive.” “No, indeed, I am not, Harry. This poor boy, of whom I speak was an ideot from his birth, and from his earliest childhood showed a great propensity to bees. They were in fact his food, his amusement, and apparently the sole objects which excited him. In the winter season he dozed away his time by the fire-side, in an almost torpid state, seldom leaving the chimney corner; but in the summer he was all alert, and in quest of his game. He had no apprehensions from their stings, but would seize them with naked hands, and at once disarm them of their weapons, and suck their bodies for the sake of their honey bags. Sometimes he would fill his bosom with these animals, and sometimes he attempted to confine them in bottles. He was very injurious to those who kept bees, for he would glide unperceived into their bee-gardens, and sitting down before the stools would rap with his fingers, and catch the bees as they came out. He has even been known to overturn the hives for the sake of the honey, of which he was passionately fond. Where mead was making, he would linger round the tubs and vessels, begging a draught of what he called bee-wine. As he ran about, he used to make a humming noise with his lips resembling the buzzing of bees. This lad was in person and appearance lean and sallow, and except in his favorite pursuit, in which he was wonderfully adroit, discovered not any understanding. He fortunately died while a youth.”

“That is a more curious story, grandpapa, than the serpent charmers,” remarked Harry; “I shall never taste honey, or see a bee on a flower, but I shall think of the poor ideot bee-boy.” “And thank the Almighty, my dear boy, that ‘thy presiding star doth more propitious shine.’ But here we are at home, and there is Alan all ready; now I must bid farewell!”

“Oh, that is what none of us like, grandpapa!” said Joanna, “but yet we are very much obliged to you for sparing us so much of your time.” “If grandpapa could but have staid another day, we should have heard all about the bees, and the honey, and the wax,” said Harry. “We must reserve that till the time when we can watch them, my dear; I think I shall procure some of Mrs. Wilson, and get a glass hive: we will think of it.” “You are always thinking of something to make them happy,” said Mrs. Monson, as she kissed the venerable cheek of her beloved father,—and the tear of affection started in her eye. “Well, best friends must part sometimes,” said the good old man as he returned her salute, imprinted a kiss on the fat cheek of the babe she held in her arms, shook Harry heartily by the hand, and, inquiring for the other young ones, found they had all gathered round Alan, who was promising them various pleasures when they were allowed again to visit the villa, having won the hearts of all by presenting each with a garden implement of his own manufacture, to one a hoe, to another a rake, to another a cart, and to his favorite little Ellen a beautiful little garden roll, of which she was not a little proud, as the gift of dear old Alan; of whom she artlessly inquired, if the white part of the roll was not ivory, taken from the great elephant?

“O life! how pleasant is thy morning, Young fancy’s rays the hills adorning! It is enchanted fairy land, Where pleasure is the magic wand _That wielded right_, Makes hours like minutes, hand in hand, Dance by full light!”

FOOTNOTES

[1] A carat is 4 grains.

[2] A livre is about 9d. of our money, French 1s.

NOTES

_Referred to in the preceding Pages._

NOTE 1.—Ceylon is a large and mountainous island of Asia, in the Indian ocean, on the coast of Coromandel. It is about 200 miles in length and 120 in breadth. It produces large quantities of cinnamon and pepper of a superior quality; a great variety of beautiful and useful woods, but one of the most remarkable of its trees is the tallipot, a single leaf of which is large enough to shelter ten persons. It abounds in corn, rice, elephants, buffaloes, goats, hogs, deer, hares, dogs, jackals, monkeys, tigers, and bears. There are also mines, from whence are procured rubies, sapphires, topazes, and other stones of inferior value. The natives of the northern parts of the island are a hardy race, and called Bedas; those on the south, Cinglasses, a people extremely superstitious, worshipping idols of various monstrous forms. They are divided into tribes like the Hindoos; and their language, which is said to be copious, smooth, elegant, and expressive, is now made the medium not of imparting the dogmas of gross superstition alone, but of conveying the light of Revelation to the benighted souls of those remote islanders of the East; the Scriptures being translated into Cingalese and received with grateful avidity by the natives.

NOTE 2.—Ivory was highly valued and admired among the Jews and other eastern nations of antiquity. The purity of its white and delicate smoothness of the surface, with the durability of it (being not liable to tarnish and rust like metals, or like wood to rot or become worm-eaten), made it a favorite ornament in the furniture of the houses and palaces of the great.—Amos (chap. vi.) speaks of beds or sofas of ivory, and the ancient profane authors frequently name curious inlaid works of gold, silver, and ivory. In short, it was used for almost every article of superior elegance and luxury: vessels for different purposes, images of the deities worshipped, ornaments of various kinds, couches, thrones and footstools, also to ornament weapons of war; consequently a considerable value was put upon the commodity. The Romans also used to inlay the ceilings and walls of their saloons not only with gold, silver, and beautiful woods, but also with ivory.

NOTE 3.—Borneo is an island in the Indian archipelago, about 800 leagues in circumference, and divided into several states or kingdoms. It produces aromatic herbs, oranges, lemons, mangoes, pines, palms in great abundance; also fine mastic and other precious gums, with rice, cassia, coffee, honey, cotton, camphire, frankincense, musk, aloes, and sweet spices of all kinds. Diamonds and gold dust are found in the rivers. The animals are elephants, buffaloes, oxen, horses, tigers, leopards, bears, monkeys, deer, wild boars, goats, parrots, paroquets, and a great variety of beautiful birds. There is also plenty of fine sea and river fish. The inhabitants on the coast are Mahometans; those in the interior, comparatively little known, are Gentoos. On the sea-coast, and near the rivers, the land is usually overflowed half the year, by the heavy and continual rains; to guard against which, some of the habitations are built on floats, and others erected on high pillars. Borneo, the capital, is built on piles, and is large and populous, with a good harbour on the north of the island.

THE END.

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