Part 4

Tell the story of Noah and his Ark.

What is the highest mountain in Armenia?

What covers the top of this mountain?

What is the Armenian word for “mamma?”

What do the children learn in the church schools?

How do the children go home from school?

What do the boys do in winter? In summer?

ARMENIAN HOMES

Hagop and Garabet live at the foot of Mount Ararat in a small village.

Their father is very poor and cannot afford to build a house, so they live in a hut, built of mud, with walls three feet thick.

The inside of the house is plastered with chopped straw and mud mixed together. The mud roof is flat and is kept smooth by rolling it often with a stone, or treading it with bare feet. Hagop and Garabet think it is great fun to go up on the roof after it rains and tread the soft mud with their bare feet. Then their father rolls it with a big round stone until it is smooth and firm.

There are many huts like this in Armenia, and they are often half under ground, with the earth that has been dug out piled up around them. A village of such dwellings looks a good deal like a village of huge ant-hills.

There is only one door for the people and animals. Animals? Yes, animals. For in winter the poor people let the animals come into the room with them, and almost every family has at least a few goats.

There is a fireplace in the middle of the earth floor for cooking, but there is no chimney, and the room is very smoky.

The mother makes big thin sheets of blanket bread and bakes it before the fire. Sometimes she makes little cakes of the bread and spreads them with thick cream.

The children drink goats’ milk with their bread, and once in a long while they have a few raisins.

There are no windows in the hut, instead there are a few holes for light; and there are no tables, no chairs, no beds, no bureaus. In fact there is no furniture except some mats and blankets. Hagop’s mother weaves the mats and blankets herself. The children like to watch the patterns grow on the rugs as the mother weaves the colored threads back and forth.

The people sit on the mats in the daytime and at night they roll themselves in the blankets and sleep on these same mats.

Of course the rich people in the towns and cities have much more comfortable houses, and they often have beautiful carved furniture and handsome rugs. But these houses have flat roofs, too, and in summer every one, rich or poor, lives on the roofs.

There all the work is done; the women weave rugs or make beautiful lace; the little girls play with their dolls; and at night the mats are spread and the family sleep under the stars.

I do not believe I should like to live in Armenia, but I should enjoy sleeping out of doors on the warm summer nights, watching the twinkling stars until I fell asleep.

* * * * *

Describe the house where Hagop and Garabet live.

What does a village of these huts look like?

Where do the goats live?

What makes the house smoky?

What do the children have to eat and drink?

Describe the inside of the house where Hagop and Garabet live.

Where do the people live in the summer time?

Where do they sleep in summer? In winter?

Tell all the things you can that Hagop’s mother has to do.

THE NEST

Under the apple tree, somebody said, “Look at that robin’s nest overhead! All of sharp sticks, and of mud, and clay— What a rough home for a summer day!” Gaunt stood the apple tree, gaunt and bare, And creaked in the winds which blustered there. The nest was wet with the April rain; The clay ran down in an ugly stain; Little it looked, I must truly say, Like a lovely home for a summer day.

Up in the apple tree, somebody laughed, “Little you know of the true home-craft. Laugh if you like, at my sticks and clay; They’ll make a good home for a summer day. May turns the apple tree pink and white, Sunny all day, and fragrant all night. My babies will never feel the showers, For rain can’t get through these feathers of ours. Snug under my wings they will cuddle and creep, The happiest babies awake or asleep,” Said the robin-mother, flying away After more of the sticks and mud and clay.

Under the apple tree somebody sighed, “Ah me, the blunder of folly and pride! The roughest small house of mud or clay Might be a sweet home for a summer day, Sunny and fragrant all day, all night, With only good cheer for fragrance and light; And the bitterest storms of grief and pain Will beat and break on that home in vain, Where a true-hearted mother broods alway, And makes the whole year like a summer day.” —_Helen Hunt Jackson._

AHMOW—THE WOLF

I

Little Ahmow was an Eskimo boy. He lived with his parents on the bleak northern shore of Hudson Bay.

During the long Arctic winter these Eskimos kill the walrus which live at the edge of the ice. In the short summer they hunt them on the islands near the shore.

The walrus meat is cut into strips and sewed up in bags made of the walrus skin. This is to keep the dogs from stealing and eating it.

The walrus oil is put into casks to be used in the dark winter months for heat and light.

Ahmow’s father killed many walrus every summer and stored the meat and oil on the islands. Then in the winter he rode over on the ice to get it.

One cold winter day, when Ahmow was ten years old, his father said, “To-morrow I shall go to the island for oil.”

“We need meat, too,” said his wife, “and food for the dogs.”

“May I go with you, father?” said Ahmow. “I will help you all I can.”

“No,” answered Nannook. “It is far and you are only a boy.”

Ahmow begged so hard that at last his father said he might go.

“But it will be a long cold ride, and there are often bears and wolves on the island.”

So Ahmow dressed himself in his new reindeer suit that his mother had made, and pulled his sealskin cap well over his ears.

He helped his father get ready for the long, cold journey. First they put a thick coating of ice on the sledge-runners. Then they filled two sealskin bags with food and water.

They called the dogs and harnessed them to the sledge. There were eight of them, and they could run like the wind.

Last of all Ahmow crawled into the house, bade his mother good-by, and brought out the long whip.

Nannook wrapped his little boy in a bearskin, cracked his whip over the dogs, and away they flew over the ice. Oh, how happy Ahmow was!

II

After a while the dogs stopped running and began to trot, and Ahmow looked about over the vast fields of ice.

Not a tree, not a house, not a person was in sight. As far as he could see there was nothing but ice and snow. Everything was still and white in the dim light.

When they had nearly reached the island, what did they see but a huge polar bear! He was prowling around the oil casks, looking for something to eat.

Nannook unharnessed the dogs at once. “Go,” he cried, and they raced across the ice after the bear.

The bear was so big and clumsy that he could not run fast. The dogs soon surrounded him, and held him until Nannook came running up to shoot him.

Ahmow helped his father skin the bear and cut up the meat. Then they loaded the sledge with a cask of oil, some walrus meat, the bearskin, and part of the bear meat.

After eating their luncheon, Ahmow was again rolled up in the bear rug, and they started for home. Nannook walked beside the sledge. The dogs walked too, because the load was so heavy.

When they were nearly halfway home, Nannook saw some reindeer.

“Watch the dogs, Ahmow,” he said, “and I will try to shoot one of those reindeer. Then we can have a fine dinner.”

So he took the gun and ran swiftly over the snow. Soon he was out of sight, and Ahmow was alone with the dogs.

The little boy played with the dogs at first, but after a while they curled up and went to sleep.

Ahmow was sleepy, too, and it was so warm in the bear rug that he almost went to sleep.

All at once he heard a growl, then a dog barked. Ahmow was wide awake and listening. “What is it, Naka?” he said to the dog that barked.

Naka barked again, and the hair stood up straight on his back.

Ahmow stood up and looked about. There was a fierce, hungry-looking wolf coming toward him! He looked again! One, two, three, four wolves were leaping over the snow!

The boy threw off the rug, and seized his father’s whip and walrus spear. “Come here,” he called to the dogs. “Come here to the sledge.”

Then, as the wolves came nearer, he jumped into the cask of meat.

One big wolf ran up to the sledge. Ahmow leaned over and struck him with the whip with all his might. The wolf howled and turned back.

Another wolf would have killed one of the dogs, but Ahmow threw out a big piece of bear meat. The wolf seized the meat and began to eat it.

Now a third wolf came up to the sledge. Just then Ahmow saw his father running toward him.

“He will drive the wolves away,” he thought, “but I should like to kill one if I can.”

So he held the spear as he had seen his father hold it. As the wolf came nearer, he raised it. As the wolf jumped, he threw it with all his might right into the wide-open mouth. There was a howl, a growl, and then the wolf tried to run away. But Ahmow wound the spear line around the sledge post and held it tight.

Nannook shot two of the wolves, but the one that had the meat got away with it.

Then as he ran to the sledge, “Look, father,” cried Ahmow. “See this fine wolf, with the sharp nose, and the bushy tail. He is held fast with the walrus line, and he has eaten the walrus spear.”

“Well done, lad,” said his father. “You will be a good hunter. Now, you shall have a spear of your own and you shall go with me on the big hunts.”

So from that day the boy was a hunter, and the people in the village called him “Ahmow,” which means, “little wolf.”

—_Frederick Schwatka._

ESKIMO CHILDREN

The Eskimos live in Greenland. I am sure you would wonder why it is called “Greenland,” for it is almost never “green.” Nearly all the year round the ground is covered with ice and snow, so that it seems as if “Whiteland” would be a better name.

It is so cold in Greenland that the Eskimos have to wear very warm clothing. The boys and girls and men and women dress very much alike. They wear trousers made of bearskin and coats made of sealskin. Their stockings are like leggings and are made of birdskin, with soft feathers inside to keep their feet warm. Over these they wear sealskin boots, which are long enough to cover their knees.

It is so cold in Greenland that trees cannot grow. If you think of all the ways in which we use the wood from our forest trees you will wonder what the Eskimos can do without them.

We build houses of wood, but the Eskimos make theirs of blocks of ice and snow.

We burn wood in our stoves. The Eskimos burn oil and fat which they get from the walrus and the seal. They burn this oil in a lamp which gives them all the light and heat they have.

Our beds, chairs and tables are made of wood. The Eskimos have no beds. They sleep on bearskin rugs.

They have no tables and no chairs. A big bowl made of bone is set on the floor, and the family sit around the bowl on bearskins, and eat out of it.

There are no stores in Greenland, no churches, and no schools. Everything that a family needs has to be provided by the father or the mother. The father goes hunting and fishing, to get food to eat, and oil to burn, and skins to wear. He catches fish, and kills bears, seals, walrus, and reindeer. Sometimes in the summer he kills a few birds.

The mother helps cut up the meat, and sometimes she cooks it, but much of the meat and fat is eaten raw. From the skins and furs she makes all the clothing for her family.

As there are no schools the Eskimo children never learn to read or write, but they like to hear their mother and father tell stories, and they learn these stories so that they can tell them to their children.

Every one in Greenland has a sled. The runners are made of bone, and the top is made of sealskin. Dogs draw these sleds over the snow, and they can run very fast and very far.

The boys and girls have very few toys, but they like to play games, and they have many good times.

The girls have dolls made of bone, and the boys play a game with a ball and stick made of bone.

But the boys like to hunt and fish. They have small boats made of bone and sealskin, and paddles made of bone. Of course they can use these boats only in the short summer time, as the water is frozen the rest of the year. When they go hunting they carry spears, and a bow and arrows.

* * * * *

Do you think you would like to live in Greenland?

Name ten things that you have that the Eskimo children have never seen.

Tell five things that you can do that the little Eskimos cannot do.

What do we have to eat that the Eskimos cannot have?

Why do the Eskimos build their houses of snow? How is the house heated?

Of what is their clothing made?

How do they cook and eat their food?

What do the Eskimo children do for fun?

THE DREAM-SHIP

The Dream-ship minds no stormy gales, Her masts are all of gold, With splendor of wide silken sails, Red-rosy, fold on fold. They spread below, they spread aloft, They’re never reefed nor furled, And they will bear us safe and soft, The other side the world.

We shall not see the shadow crew That work among the spars, But watch the topmast sailing through The shoals of shining stars. From point to point of silver light, Through purple gulfs and bays, As we below a-gliding go Along the water-ways. —_Blanche M. Channing._

A TRIP TO JAPAN

There are so many things to tell you about “Nippon,” as the Japanese call their country, that I do not know where to begin.

But first of all I must tell you how we landed. There were six of us,—Charlotte and Alice and Fred, their father and mother, and I,—and we had come all the way across the Pacific Ocean in a big ship.

Our ship was anchored out in the harbor, and we were told we might go ashore.

We wondered if we were expected to swim, but it seemed too far for that.

You can imagine how glad we were when we looked over the side of the ship and saw a great many little boats waiting for us.

A stairway was hung out over the side of the ship, and we walked down into the little boats, just as we walk down stairs in our houses.

Then the trunks were lowered by ropes into little Japanese rowboats, called sampans, and we waved “good-by” to the captain and all our friends on the ship.

Did you ever go to sleep and dream you were in a doll’s country, where you seemed like a giant? Alice said she knew now just how that other Alice felt in her visit to Wonderland, for she never saw such tiny little people, and such tiny little houses, and even such tiny little trees.

When we got on shore we found queer little two-wheeled carriages, drawn by men instead of horses. The carriages are called jinrikishas, and are just big enough for one person.

We each got into one of these carriages and the jinrikisha boys picked up the shafts and trotted off like nice little ponies.

These boys wear dark-blue trousers that fit their legs very tightly, and a short blue jacket with flowing sleeves, and on their back is a Chinese letter painted in white, which is their employer’s name.

On their feet they wear straw sandals which they kick off, when they are worn out, as a horse casts his shoe. The hat is a funny round straw disk, covered with white, which makes them look like toadstools.

The houses, as I said, are very tiny, not much larger than your playhouses, and the walls are all made of sliding screens that can be pushed aside, leaving the house open.

The floors are covered with matting, which is as soft as cushions, but there is no furniture anywhere to be seen, for the Japanese sit on the floor and sleep on the floor, and their tables are tiny little trays.

The houses are spotlessly clean, for no Japanese would think of going into a house with his shoes on, any more than you would walk over your mother’s chairs and cushions in your shoes.

One day we went to see a wonderful image. We rode out to it in jinrikishas, and we each had two ’rikisha boys to pull us. We sped along at a rapid pace, for the boys are so well trained that they make nearly as good time as a horse, and a day’s run is sometimes as much as forty miles.

We had a regular Japanese “tiffin,” or lunch, at a little Japanese inn that had a pretty garden all around it. We took off our shoes at the door just as the Japanese do, and walked across the soft, matted floor.

A screen was drawn aside for us to enter, and then closed again, leaving us in a little room. Here we all squatted on our heels, as nearly like a Japanese as our stiff muscles would let us, for, without being trained, it is hard to shut up like a jackknife.

Then pretty little Japanese girls stole in noiselessly, bringing us trays of food, one for each person, and knelt down beside us to uncover our dishes and wait on us.

In one tiny bowl was some vegetable soup, in another some rice, and in a third some fish, which was cooked for us, though to have been truly Japanese we should have eaten it raw.

Of course there was tea. Everywhere you go they give you tea in wee cups without handles; just about a thimbleful, without cream and without sugar; not at all as we drink it at home.

But with all this feast before us, there was nothing to eat it with but two funny little chopsticks, and terrible times we had trying to manage those little sticks that serve the Japanese so well, but which seemed bewitched the minute we got them between our fingers.

After trying a long time we would get a mouthful, as we thought, firmly fixed between the chopsticks, but just as we would open our mouths to take it in, the bewitched chopsticks would give a twitch, and down the whole thing would fall again.

So, though we spent much time over it, we ate very little, and we all agreed that it is better to eat with forks as we do in America.

After tiffin we went to a silk factory, for a great deal of silk is manufactured in Japan. There we found over three thousand girls and women busy unrolling the cocoons. The silk is woven in another place, and rolled in neat rolls, ready for sale.

Most of the way we rode along the beach, where we could see the fishermen in their boats, and in one boat was a boy we called Urashima, for when we looked for him a second time he had disappeared.

—_Charlotte Chaffee Gibson._

* * * * *

What do the Japanese call their country?

Where was the big ship anchored?

How did the passengers get from the ship to the shore?

What is a jinrikisha? How is it drawn?

Describe a Japanese house.

What is the Japanese word for lunch?

What did the children have to eat at the inn?

What did they have to eat it with?

Where did they go after “tiffin?”

What would you like to do if you should go to Japan?

URASHIMA

Urashima was a fisher-boy who lived long ago in Japan.

One day he went out in his boat, and after he had been fishing a little while, he felt something very heavy tugging at his line.

He gave a hard pull and got it up into his boat. Then he found that it was a big tortoise with such a funny old wrinkled face that he burst out laughing when he saw it.

In Japan a tortoise lives a thousand years, so Urashima thought it would be a shame to kill this funny old fellow, when he might have so long to live. Besides, a small fish would suit him just as well for dinner, so he threw the tortoise back into the sea, and meant to go on fishing.

But somehow the air seemed too heavy and drowsy, just as it does on a summer’s day, and Urashima fell asleep.

While he was sleeping a beautiful maiden rose out of the water and got into the boat with him. Urashima waked, and when he saw her he thought she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.

The maiden spoke to him. “Urashima,” she said, “you thought you caught a tortoise a little while ago, but it was really me. My father had sent me in disguise to see if you were a good, kind boy.

“We know now that you are kind-hearted, as you spared the life of the old tortoise. So I am going to take you with me to the Dragon Palace, where my father, the Sea King, and I live. There you shall marry me, and we shall be very happy.”

Urashima gladly consented, and they floated away till they came to a wonderful palace at the bottom of the sea.

This palace was all built of the most beautiful pink and white coral, and was studded with diamonds and pearls.

The leaves of the trees were emeralds, with berries of rubies and sapphires; and the fishes’ scales were of pure silver and gold.

All this was given to Urashima, and the beautiful princess became his wife. Any boy would be happy in such a palace, and Urashima was happy for three years.

Then he said to the princess, “I must go to see my father and mother, and my brothers and sisters, but I will return again to you.”

This made the poor princess very sad, for she did not wish to have Urashima go away.

But when she saw how much he wished to go, she gave him a little box to take with him, telling him under no conditions to open it, for if he did he could never return to her.

So Urashima started off, and soon found himself on the shore where he had lived. But everything seemed strangely different. Even the people were different and looked at him in a curious way.

He could not seem to find his way home, so he asked two men whom he met if they could tell him how to reach the house of Urashima’s parents.

“Urashima!” they cried. “Why, he was drowned out fishing about four hundred years ago, and not even his body was found. His father and mother are buried over there.”

Then they moved away hastily, for they thought he must be insane.

Poor Urashima could not think what to do. He began to think that the Dragon Palace must be a part of Fairyland, where a day is the same as a year on earth, and he wished to return to it. But how could he find the way?

He could not remember how he had come.

Suddenly he thought of the box that the princess had given him, and forgetting that he had promised not to open it, he pulled open the lid, hoping to learn the way back.

There was nothing in the box but a fleecy white cloud that floated softly up into the blue sky.

Then, too late, he remembered what the princess had said, and he called and called the cloud to come back. He even ran along the beach trying to catch it.

But soon he could not call, for his breath came shorter and shorter, his hair turned white, and his back became weak and bent.

Finally he fell down on the beach, crushed by the weight of his four hundred years.

—_Charlotte Chaffee Gibson._

A DAY

I’ll tell you how the sun rose,— A ribbon at a time. The steeples swam in amethyst, The news like squirrels ran.

The hills untied their bonnets, The bobolinks begun, Then I said softly to myself, “That must have been the sun!”

* * * * *

But how he set, I know not. There seemed a purple stile Which little yellow boys and girls Were climbing all the while.

Till when they reached the other side, A dominie in gray Put gently up the evening bars, And led the flock away. —_Emily Dickinson._

THE ANTS’ MONDAY DINNER

How did I know what the ants had for dinner last Monday? It is odd that I should have known, but I’ll tell you how it happened.