Part 12

Fig. 2 represents a twig of the Hemlock Spruce Fir, a tree well-known to nearly every young person in Canada. Looking at this illustration, we at once observe that the leaves are distributed _singly_ on the young shoot, and stand out in two rows. In the case of a few species of Fir, however, the leaves are not thus arranged, but are scattered all round the twigs, being stiff and pointed, as shown in Fig. 3, which represents a twig of the common Black Spruce Fir. In all cases, Firs have their leaves springing _singly_ from the twigs, an arrangement by which any child can distinguish them from Pines.

Of all our native trees, Pines are considered the most valuable, as their timber can be used for almost every purpose for which wood is required, especially for house-building, ship-building, fencing, and railway construction. The two principal species are the White and the Red Pine.

The White Pine is one of the grandest trees of our Canadian forests. It grows to very large proportions on dry, gravelly lands, where it is not crowded by other trees. We often find individual pine trees rising to the height of 200 feet, with stems from four to six feet in diameter near the ground; but in general they may be said to reach 150 feet, with a diameter of about three feet. In the earlier settled parts of the country, the best and largest trees of this species were cut down long ago; but thousands of fine specimens are still to be met with in the backwoods.

The Red Pine does not grow to so large a size as the White, nor is it found so plentifully in our forests. It is to be met with only on dry, gravelly knolls, and in rocky parts of the country, generally in patches of small extent, and seldom among other trees. Its timber is of the best description, and is much sought after by lumbermen. Owing to this cause it is now comparatively scarce. All Pines are reared from seeds, which may be found ripe in their cones in the month of November.

Although our Fir trees are, generally speaking, not so important as our Pines, still, there are two or three of them well worthy of being brought under notice here, particularly the Douglas Fir, the Hemlock Spruce Fir, the common Black Spruce Fir, and the Balsam Fir.

The Douglas Fir is not found in the woods east of the Rocky Mountains, but it grows in the immense forests of British Columbia to heights varying from 150 to 250 feet, with trunks from three to ten feet in diameter. A peculiar feature of this Fir is, that the bark on old trees is found from ten to fourteen inches thick. Where full grown, this grand Fir usually stands apart from other trees, and forms a majestic object in the landscape, being clothed with horizontal branches from the base to the top. The timber is exceedingly durable, and in its native province is much used for general purposes. It is also exported for ship-masts, the tall, clean stems making the best of material for this purpose.

The Hemlock Spruce Fir, most young people of Canada are acquainted with, as it is widely distributed, and found in many bushes of the country. In open situations, and on cool-bottomed lands, the Hemlock is a noble tree; while young it is very graceful in form, and when approaching maturity its horizontal limbs give it the appearance of the Cedar of Lebanon. Its timber, however, is not esteemed so highly as that of the Pine, being of a loose and open character. But, although this is the case, it is largely used for rough boarding purposes, as in building barns, and in making side-walks. The bark of this tree is valuable for tanning leather.

The Black Spruce Fir, or _Gum Spruce_, as it is often called, is very common on most flat and cool-bottomed lands in Canada, and also on the banks of lakes and rivers. It is a tall and beautifully formed tree, having a dark brown bark, and very dark green leaves. It is from these characteristics that it derives its name. It grows to a height varying from 70 to 100 feet, but the stems seldom attain diameters over two feet at the bottom. The timber, though light, is very tough and strong.

The Balsam is one of the handsomest members of this family. Commercially it is not of much value, but as an ornamental tree it is unsurpassed--its regular conical form, closely set branches, and deep green leaves, rendering it a conspicuous object in any landscape. The Balsam seldom exceeds forty or fifty feet in height.

Although the Firs, like the Pines, are reared from seeds which ripen in October and November, they may be grown from cuttings of the young wood, as rare kinds sometimes are when their seeds cannot be had.

The Thuja, or _Arbor vitæ_, as it is generally called, is a very useful class of Canadian trees. It grows to a large size, and is found chiefly on the Pacific slope. There is only one species which is a native of Ontario, and to it alone we shall here refer. It is known to most people in Ontario under the name of the _White Cedar_. How it came to be called a _Cedar_ we do not know; but its true name is the _Arbor vitæ_. This species is too familiar to the people of the eastern provinces of Canada to require any lengthened description, as many farmers have it growing in the swampy parts of their bushes, and find it useful for various purposes, especially as rails for fencing.

The leaves of this tree are so small, that to a casual observer, they scarcely appear to be leaves. If they are closely looked at, however, it will be seen that they are in opposite pairs, and lie flat and pressed on the twigs, each pair overlapping the other like the shingles on a house-top. When they are roughly handled, they give out a strong aromatic smell. The tree, although it grows to large dimensions--some times to eighty or ninety feet in height, with stems from two to three feet in diameter--cannot be considered an ornamental one, as its branches are too loose and open, and its leaves too small, to give it a clothed look. Its timber, however, is of the most valuable description, being very durable, and in this respect it is not surpassed by any other tree. Much of it is used for railway ties. The Thujas are all grown from seeds, but like the Firs, they may be reared from cuttings.

LXXV.--BINGEN ON THE RHINE.

HON. MRS. NORTON.

A soldier of the Legion, lay dying in Algiers; There was lack of woman’s nursing, there was dearth of woman’s tears; But a comrade stood beside him, while his life-blood ebbed away, And bent with pitying glances, to hear what he might say. The dying soldier faltered, as he took that comrade’s hand, And he said: “I never more shall see my own, my native land; Take a message, and a token, to some distant friends of mine, For I was born at Bingen,--at Bingen on the Rhine.

“Tell my brothers and companions, when they meet and crowd around, To hear my mournful story, in the pleasant vineyard ground, That we fought the battle bravely; and when the day was done, Full many a corpse lay ghastly pale, beneath the setting sun. And ’mid the dead and dying were some grown old in wars-- The death-wound on their gallant breasts, the last of many scars; But some were young, and suddenly beheld life’s morn decline; And one had come from Bingen,--fair Bingen on the Rhine.

“Tell my mother, that her other sons shall comfort her old age; And I was aye a truant bird, that thought his home a cage; For my father was a soldier, and, even as a child, My heart leaped forth to hear him tell of struggles fierce and wild; And when he died, and left us to divide his scanty hoard, I let them take whate’er they would, but kept my father’s sword; And with boyish love I hung it, where the bright light used to shine, On the cottage wall at Bingen,--calm Bingen on the Rhine!

“Tell my sister not to weep for me, and sob with drooping head, When the troops are marching home again, with glad and gallant tread; But to look upon them proudly, with a calm and steadfast eye, For her brother was a soldier too, and not afraid to die. And if a comrade seek her love, I ask her in my name, To listen to him kindly, without regret or shame; And to hang the old sword in its place (my father’s sword and mine), For the honor of old Bingen,--dear Bingen on the Rhine!

“There’s another--not a sister;--in the happy days gone by, You’d have known her by the merriment that sparkled in her eye; Too innocent for coquetry, too fond for idle scorning,-- O friend, I fear the lightest heart makes sometimes heaviest mourning! Tell her the last night of my life,--for ere this moon be risen, My body will be out of pain, my soul be out of prison-- I dreamed I stood with her, and saw the yellow sunlight shine On the vine-clad hills of Bingen,--fair Bingen on the Rhine!

“I saw the blue Rhine sweep along; I heard, or seemed to hear, The German songs we used to sing in chorus sweet and clear; And down the pleasant river, and up the slanting hill, That echoing chorus sounded, through the evening calm and still; And her glad blue eyes were on me, as we passed with friendly talk, Down many a path beloved of yore, and well-remembered walk; And her little hand lay lightly, confidingly in mine,-- But we’ll meet no more at Bingen,--loved Bingen on the Rhine!”

His voice grew faint and hoarser; his grasp was childish weak; His eyes put on a dying look; he sighed, and ceased to speak. His comrade bent to lift him, but the spark of life had fled,-- The soldier of the Legion, in a foreign land--was dead! And the soft moon rose up slowly, and calmly she looked down On the red sand of the battle-field, with bloody corpses strewn; Yea, calmly on that dreadful scene, her pale light seemed to shine, As it shone on distant Bingen,--fair Bingen on the Rhine!

_Word Exercise._

aye (_ā_) strewn (_strōne_) vĭne´yard (_vĭn-_) Le´gion (_lee´jun_) Rhine (_rīn_) dearth (_derth_) Al-giers´ (_-jeers´_) co-quĕt´ry (_-kĕt´-_) (or _ko´kĕt-ry_) Bing´en Ger´man

_Phrase Exercise._

1.--A soldier of the _Legion_.--2. Pitying glances.--3. Take a _token_.--4. Ghastly pale.--5. Beheld life’s morn decline.--6. Aye a truant bird.--7. To divide his scanty hoard.--8. Gallant tread.--9. A path beloved of yore.--10. _Soft_ moon.

LXXVI.--CANADIAN TREES.

JAMES BROWN, LL.D.

_SECOND READING.--HARD WOODS._

Let us now briefly describe the principal varieties of our Canadian trees which lose their leaves every autumn, and are therefore called _Deciduous Trees_; and first we shall begin with the Oak. There are at least thirty different species of Oaks found in our Canadian forests, all growing to a size that makes them valuable as timber. Most of them form noble specimens of ornamental trees, when they stand out free, and separate from each other. The White Oak, when so found, is one of the grandest objects in the vegetable kingdom. The seeds of the Oak, which are called acorns, are found ripe on the trees in October and November.

There are about ten different species of Maples found in our woods, all beautiful and ornamental trees. The Sugar Maple is a tree of especial beauty, and in the autumn months is remarkable for the brilliant color of its leaves. The seeds of the Maple are what is called _winged_. They may be found lying under the old trees in autumn.

The Ash is another valuable Canadian tree; and of this genus about twenty species are found in our forests. All are more or less valuable, both for their timber and for their ornamental qualities. Several of the species, especially those called the _White_ and the _Black_ Ash, are found upwards of 100 feet in height, with diameters, close to the ground, of three to four feet through. The timber is much prized for its toughness and strength, and is used in the manufacture of implements, barrel hoops, and the wood-work of machinery. The Ash is always found on deep land, having a rather damp and cool bottom. The seeds are ripe in November, and may then be gathered from the trees.

Of the Beech, there is only one species found in Canada, but here and there varieties of it are to be met with, caused by difference of soil and aspect. It grows to a large size, when not closely surrounded by other trees. Its timber is held in high esteem; but as it does not last long when exposed to the weather, it should therefore be used for indoor purposes only. The Beech is not a long-lived tree, as it becomes matured within 150 years. It succeeds best on dry, gravelly soils. The seeds are called _nuts_, and are ripe in October, as every country schoolboy knows.

The Sweet Chestnut is another of our timber trees deserving of notice. There is only one species of it to be found in Canada, and it is in all respects the same as the European Sweet Chestnut. It is a majestic tree, where found standing alone, and its timber is of a very durable nature, much sought after for many purposes, especially for posts and fence-rails. This tree grows best on deep, dry, and strong land, where it often reaches a height of 100 feet, with a proportionate trunk. The seeds are called _nuts_, and may be used as food.

The Hornbeam (or _Ironwood_, as it is generally called in Canada,) is a tree of moderate size, and is plentiful on the dry parts of our forest-land. It has much the same appearance as the Beech, but it is easily distinguished from that tree by the curled edges of its leaves, and by its darker and rougher bark. The timber is very hard, of a close and compact texture, and is much used for farm purposes, where strength is required. The seeds of this tree are called _nuts_, and each is enclosed in a peculiar leafy substance, called by botanists a _perianth_.

The Walnut is found plentifully in most bushes in the southern parts of Ontario. It includes nine or ten species, all growing to considerable size, and forming very handsome trees, as for example, the _Black Walnut_, _Butternut_, _Pecan Nut_, _Hickory_, _Bitter Nut_, and _Hog Nut_: each having beautiful foliage. The Hickory is especially known for the toughness and other valuable qualities of its timber; and every boy is familiar with the delicious nuts which this tree produces. All these trees grow best on a deep, rich soil.

The Plane is another member of our Canadian forests deserving of notice, and is a tree of peculiar beauty. Its wide-spreading branches, clothed with large leaves, make it well adapted for shelter or shade. In Canada it is best known by the name of _Cotton-wood_, or _Button-wood_, and is also familiar as the _Sycamore_. The British name for it is the Plane Tree. It is found on deep, loamy lands, by the sides of our rivers and lakes, forming a tall, massive-headed tree, often upwards of 130 feet in height, with a trunk of from three to five feet in diameter. The timber is not held in high estimation, though sometimes used for furniture-making, and for some parts of the inner work of house-building. The tree can be grown from cuttings of the young wood.

The Elm in our woods is a stately tree, and often rises to the height of 140 feet, with a stem of six feet in diameter. There are several species of Elm, but the most important is the _White_, which, on deep and cool-bottomed land, attains the dimensions stated. Where individuals of this species stand alone, with all their limbs fully developed, they form grand and imposing objects. The timber of the various species is used in house-building and in the manufacture of agricultural implements. The seeds ripen in the early part of summer when they may be gathered and sown at once.

Of the Birch there are several species found in our woods, but the _Tall Birch_ and the _Paper Birch_ are the most important and best known. Both species are of graceful habit and foliage. The _Paper Birch_ is particularly remarkable on account of its cream-colored, paper-like bark. Both kinds attain large dimensions in favorable soil, being often found from 90 to 100 feet high, with stems of two or three feet in diameter. It is from the bark of the Paper Birch that the Indians construct their canoes; hence it is often called the _Canoe Birch_. The timber of this tree enters largely into the manufacture of furniture, and for this purpose it is exported to Europe. The seeds are contained in _catkins_, which hang from the points of the branches, and ripen in October.

The Tulip may be easily known by its leaves, which are quite unlike those of almost any other tree, and much resemble a riding saddle. It grows to a large size, and is highly ornamental; its luxuriant foliage, together with its numerous greenish-yellow, tulip-shaped flowers, giving it a fine appearance. The timber is soft, and of no especial value. There is only one species.

Of the Lime we have four different species in our woods, namely: the _Broad-leaved_, the _Downy-leaved_, the _Thin-leaved_, and the _Variable-leaved_. This tree is more generally known to Canadians by the name of _Basswood_. All the species are graceful trees, with sweet-smelling flowers. Many of them grow to a large size on rich, deep lands, often attaining the height of 120 feet, with stems ranging from three to five feet in diameter. The timber is white and soft, when newly cut up, but, as it becomes seasoned, it acquires firmness of texture, and when kept dry, lasts well in house-building. It is employed by shoemakers and saddlers for cutting-boards, and is well-suited for carving purposes.

LXXVII.--BURIAL OF SIR JOHN MOORE.

CHARLES WOLFE.

Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corpse to the rampart we hurried; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O’er the grave where our hero we buried.

We buried him darkly at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning; By the struggling moonbeam’s misty light, And the lantern dimly burning.

No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Nor in sheet nor in shroud we wound him; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest, With his martial cloak around him.

Few and short were the prayers we said, And we spoke not a word of sorrow; But we steadfastly gazed on the face that was dead, And we bitterly thought of the morrow.

We thought as we hollowed his narrow bed, And smoothed down his lonely pillow, That the foe and the stranger would tread o’er his head, And we far away on the billow!

Lightly they’ll talk of the spirit that’s gone, And o’er his cold ashes upbraid him,-- But little he’ll reck, if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him.

But half of our heavy task was done When the clock struck the hour for retiring; And we heard the distant and random gun That the foe was sullenly firing.

Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame fresh and gory; We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone, But we left him alone with his glory.

_Phrase Exercise._

1. We buried him _darkly_.--2. At dead of night.--3. Misty light.--4. _Useless_ coffin.--5. _Martial_ cloak.--6. _Bitterly_ thought.--7. _Lightly_ they’ll talk.--8. Little he’ll _reck_.--9. _Random_ gun.--10. _Sullenly_ firing.--11. Field of his fame.

LXXVIII.--THE GOLDEN TOUCH.

NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE.

_FIRST READING._

Once upon a time, there lived a very rich man, and a king besides, whose name was Midas; and he had a little daughter, whom nobody but myself ever heard of, and whose name I either never knew, or have entirely forgotten. So, because I love odd names for little girls, I choose to call her Marygold.

This King Midas was fonder of gold than of any thing else in the world. He valued his royal crown chiefly because it was composed of that precious metal. If he loved any thing better, or half so well, it was the one little maiden who played so merrily around her father’s footstool. But the more Midas loved his daughter, the more did he desire and seek for wealth. He thought, foolish man! that the best thing he could possibly do for this dear child would be to bequeath her the largest pile of glistening coin, that had ever been heaped together since the world was made.

Thus he gave all his thoughts and all his time to this one purpose. If ever he happened to gaze for an instant at the gold-tinted clouds of sunset, he wished that they were real gold, and that they could be squeezed safely into his strong box. When little Marygold ran to meet him, with a bunch of buttercups and dandelions, he used to say, “Pooh, pooh, child! If these flowers were as golden as they look, they would be worth the plucking!”

At length (as people always grow more and more foolish, unless they take care to grow wiser and wiser) Midas had got to be so exceedingly unreasonable, that he could scarcely bear to see or touch any object that was not gold. He made it his custom, therefore, to pass a large portion of every day in a dark and dreary apartment, under ground, at the basement of his palace. It was here that he kept his wealth. To this dismal hole--for it was little better than a dungeon--Midas betook himself, whenever he wanted to be particularly happy.

Here, after carefully locking the door, he would take a bag of gold coin, or a gold cup as big as a washbowl, or a heavy golden bar, or a peck-measure of gold-dust, and bring them from the obscure corners of the room into the one bright and narrow sunbeam that fell from the dungeon-like window. He valued the sunbeam for no other reason but that his treasure would not shine without its help.

And then would he reckon over the coins in the bag; toss up the bar, and catch it as it came down; sift the gold-dust through his fingers; look at the funny image of his own face, as reflected in the burnished circumference of the cup; and whisper to himself, “O Midas, rich King Midas, what a happy man art thou!”

Midas was enjoying himself in his treasure-room, one day, as usual, when he perceived a shadow fall over the heaps of gold; and, looking up, he beheld the figure of a stranger, standing in the bright and narrow sunbeam! It was a young man, with a cheerful and ruddy face.

Whether it was that the imagination of King Midas threw a yellow tinge over every thing, or whatever the cause might be, he could not help fancying that the smile with which the stranger regarded him had a kind of golden brightness in it. Certainly, there was now a brighter gleam upon all the piled-up treasures than before. Even the remotest corners had their share of it, and were lighted up, when the stranger smiled, as with tips of flame and sparkles of fire.

As Midas knew that he had carefully turned the key in the lock, and that no mortal strength could possibly break into his treasure-room, he, of course, concluded that his visitor must be something more than mortal.

Midas had met such beings before now, and was not sorry to meet one of them again. The stranger’s aspect, indeed, was so good-humored and kindly, if not beneficent, that it would have been unreasonable to suspect him of intending any mischief. It was far more probable that he came to do Midas a favor. And what could that favor be, unless to multiply his heaps of treasure?

The stranger gazed about the room; and, when his lustrous smile had glistened upon all the golden objects that were there, he turned again to Midas.

“You are a wealthy man, friend Midas!” he observed. “I doubt whether any other four walls on earth contain so much gold as you have contrived to pile up in this room.”

“I have done pretty well,--pretty well,” answered Midas, in a discontented tone. “But, after all, it is but a trifle, when you consider that it has taken me my whole lifetime to get it together. If one could live a thousand years, he might have time to grow rich!”