-

J L -

SHARP EYES

A RAMBLER'S CALENDAR

OF FIFTY-TWO WEEKS AMONG
INSECTS, BIRDS, AND FLOWERS

.

BY
WM. HAMILTON GIBSON

LIGHT AND SUNSHINE

ILLUSTRATED BY THE AUTHOR

NEW YORK AND LONDON
HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS

1904

OF EIES <^JND SEEING"

11 For the blind man saith, ' 7,
thing as sight '. . . . There is the c
maladie of blindnesse, and there^
mental maladie of blind sight . . .
sooth ye are all blinde except
and eie doe seek in barmdfn
there be those who see not thou
looke, who having eies of
yet walk abroad in staringe

Ian

ised myself
. a

ecipient o
— occasion-
tiers from

E

which

and many otheillPnd ml

decade past I have been t)

continuous special correspont
ally amounting to an inquisition — embracing
all parts of the United States, and even rerm
tions, mainly penned by young students of Natural His-
tory, who, having been deceived by some misleading
spirit in my previously published pages, have sought my
opinion as though consulting the oracle.

These letters have embraced questions, I had almost
said, upon every conceivable subject of zoology; ques-
tions which frequently would have taxed the erudition
of Humboldt himself, to say nothing of an occasional
inquiry which would as certainly for the moment have
annihilated his equanimity.

The correspondence which these letters have evoked
from me if used as MS. would yield a book of no mean
dimensions, and the time and labor involved therein,
taken also in connection with the frequent repetition of
the same queries from various widely separated locali-
ties, continually suggested the idea that a popular vol-
ume based upon such questions might " meet a long-
felt want," as it certainly would meet a genuine need.

Vlll THROUGH MY SPECTACLES

Recognizing, too, the evident hunger for information
concerning every-day objects in Nature, and that where
one individual would write for enlightenment one hun-
dred would wonder in silence and ten thousand dwell in
heedless innocence, I realized that such a book might
also go forth as a missionary to open the eyes of the
blind, or at least quicken a desire for a fuller compre-
hension of the omnipresent marvel and beauty of the
commonplace.

To all these considerations and conditions this volume
owes its final embodiment. It is, after all, but a hint.
If it shall serve as a courier, if only to open the door —
to lower the bars, as it were, to these " pastures new,"
surely it will not have been uttered in vain.

Not a few of my friends will, perhaps, discover fa-
miliar words in the following pages ; while others, I am
assured, will herein recognize the first response of a
dilatory correspondent.

Sharp Eyes, then, is, in brief, a cordial recommenda-
tion and invitation to walk the woods and fields with
me, and reap the perpetual " harvest of a quiet eye,"
which Nature everywhere bestows ; to witness with me
the strange revelations of this wild bal masqut ; to
laugh, to admire, to study, to ponder, to philosophize —
between the lines — to question, and always to rejoice
and give thanks !

Sharp Eyes is, moreover, a plea for the rational, con-
templative country ramble. It is a messenger to that
thoughtless host to whom Nature is a closed book — not
only unopened, but with leaves uncut — to those who
would take a " walk" perhaps, but to whom, it would
seem, the only virtues of a walk are comprised in the
quickening pulse, the expansion of lung, and the cul-
tivation of brawn. To such, a walk may be an exhila-
ration and a positive benefit, but scarcely the means of
grace which is implied in the stroll or ramble. I would

THROUGH MY SPECTACLES IX

lay open a few, a very few, of these uncut pages, which
I have learned by heart, that a " little may be read,"
even as we run. I would give at least one worthy mo-
tive for a stroll for every day in the year — storm or
shine, summer or winter — conscious that in thus seeing
through my spectacles my proselytes will surely rejoice
in their conversion.

As to the assumptive tone of my title, I would add a
few words. The term " sharp eyes " is, after all, but
relative. There are degrees of sharpness of vision even
as there are degrees of blindness. An eye may be
"sharp" for birds but blind to botany; keen for Indian
arrow-heads and dull to entomology, but never omni-
scient ; or, as Thoreau figuratively but forcibly puts it,
"a man absorbed in the study of grasses tramples down
oaks unwittingly in his walks."

Thus, if the expression of these pages shall appear
somewhat pedagogic, the critical reader will bear in
mind that they were not intended for the scientist nor
zoologist, nor, of course, for eyes sharper than my own
in these especial fields. Prompted originally by the
numerous juvenile correspondence, and prepared for the
columns of a young people's journal, any inference of
conscious didacticism in the author may perhaps best
be met in the apology of the old Roman proverb: "Inter
caecos regnat luscus" — among the blind, a one-eyed man
is king. Indeed, are we not all relatively blind? Is not
the "sharpest eye" continually reminded of how blind
it was but yesterday?

Truly speaks " Fra Lippo Lippi :"

" We're made so, that we love

First, when we see them painted, things we have passed
Perhaps a hundred times, nor cared to see " —

an axiom which needs no emphasizing, being borne out
in every one's experience. Many of these " things we

X THROUGH MY SPECTACLES

have not cared to see " are the subjects of the following
chapters — things not rare, nor seclusive, nor foreign,
which are to be found in almost any of our woods, or
fields, or copses, and which any wide-awake saunterer
may discern with " half an eye," if that member be prop-
erly equipped. Anticipation is an equipment, the surest
talisman to discovery, and anticipation may be quick-
ened either by pictorial hint or previous experience. The
retina must be on the alert. A boy who has woodchucks
in his eye as he crosses the farm is sure to see his wood-
chuck, while otherwise he never had got a glimpse of
him. It matters not in what particular direction the
eye is educated ; the habit of observation in one field
quickens the powers of perception in any other, and the
results depend not upon the eye — the camera — but upon
the spirit and inspiration behind the retina, for " there
is no more power to see in the eye itself than in any
other jelly;" in the words of William Blake, "we see
tlirougJi it, not with it," even as through our spectacles.

Moreover, to the average observer, if the eye is ever
thus to be a means of grace it must store up its harvest
while hearts are light and life is new, when eyes are
bright and unbedimmed. How many a prisoner caged
in city walls is living on the harvest stored in free, un-
burdened youth, and which has never been replenished.

"When one thinks of the Greeks," writes Ouida,
"playing, praying, laboring, lecturing, dreaming, sculpt-
uring, training, living everlastingly in the free wind and
under the pure heavens, and then reflects that the chief
issue of civilization is to pack human beings like salt-
fish in a barrel, with never a sight of leaf or cloud, never
a whisper of breeze or bird — oh, the blessed blind men
who talk of Progress! '

In the more serious pursuit of scientific study, the
wilds offer limitless opportunities to the" close observer,
and especially to the young whose lives are spent among

THROUGH MY SPECTACLES XI

the hills. There is yet plenty of work for sharp eyes to
do, many a "common thing" whose secret is yet undis-
covered, and few " known " things that are not still a
constant rebuke to our self-satisfaction. The first mead-
ow you meet is a great " undiscovered country;" learned,
as we thought, in its length and breadth yesterday, it is
still undiscovered to-day. The life history of many of
our common plants, birds, insects, and mammals yet re-
mains to be truly written. The keen, alert eye of boy-
hood often has opportunities and leisure for discovery
denied to his elder, burdened fellow-beings, and evi-
dences are not wanting to prove that even

" A raw recruit,
Perchance, may shoot
Great Buonaparte."

The facts in the following pages are almost entirely
drawn from individual experience, largely gathered in
boyhood, the apparently random selection being based
upon a desire for the greatest variety possible within a
limited range of the minor flora and fauna. The dates
are apportioned from careful notes, verified through a
record of many years. In most cases they are not arbi-
trary, being fixed at the mean period for each subject.
The calendar is based upon the latitude of Connecticut,
and while the dates given will, in most cases, be authen-
tic for a district, covering the whole of New England
and the Middle States, some adjustments will be nec-
essary for Southern readers, there being at least three
weeks' variance in the floral, and inferentially in the
whole natural calendar, between the latitudes of Maine
and Florida.

Apology for the conspicuous preferment of my drag-
on-fly as an emblem for cover and title-page will certainly
be unnecessary to those who are familiar with this gro
tesque of the insect world. The natural symbol of om-

Xll THROUGH MY SPECTACLES

niscience, a creature of the two elements, sharp-eyed
alike in both, possessed of a head which is, in fact, all
eyes, have we not here an embodied and tangible " qui
vive" beside which the fabled Argus of old is a tame
conception ? The seat of its keen intelligence, double-
domed and literally begemmed with sight, reinforced,
too, with wings which convert the horizon to a present
kingdom, where shall my volume look for a more apt
emblem?

Moreover, what reminders of red-letter days are
awaked in his familiar shape — visions of lush green tan-
gles, of water- weeds and lily- pads, of rippling brooks
and dipping oars and dancing bobbers ; placid lakes,
cool forest glades, and meadows redolent with bloom.
May we not accept our dragon-fly even as a courier?

July .0,

W. HAMILTON GIBSON,

Washington, Conn.

T

Spring

HE earliest blossom, the skunk-cabbage flower, visited by bees in snowy March.
— Revels of the sprouting maple-seeds. — Peeping frogs: spring music from
the swamp : Hy lodes, Hyla, and cricket -frog. Imitation of Hy lodes. Tree-
toads in March. — Vernal greeting from the pines. Clicking cones. Hygro-
metric hocus-pocus of pine-cone. — The squirrel as a botany teacher. Spiral
arrangement of cone-scales. — Spring blossoms : avant-conrrieres among the
wild flowers. Blossoms under snow. Poetical allusions. — Quickening seeds.
Clover infants, beech babies, and maples in swaddling-clothes. " Great oaks
from little acorns grow." Masquerade of the maple-seeds. — A butterfly sere-
nade: musical wings of the "yellow-edge." Caterpillar swarms of Antiopa. —
A rosy-winged rattling locust and his agile emerald companion of the spring
woods. — A water-fairy: filmy opalescent sylph of the snow-pools. — Birds of
April. The poets' harbingers. Bird songs in onomatopoeia. The grackles'
" clatterin'." The " partridge " and his mysterious "drum." Authorities at
odds. — Our loftiest weed. Its beautiful pith. A tall story. — The hay-fever
reprobate. — Tenacious oak-leaves defiant of winter storms. — A prehistoric pot-
ter ; earthen jugs of the vase-maker wasp and their lively contents. — Unfold-
ing buds. Vernal tints in the bourgeoning woods. A poetical bit of mirrored
truth. Winter-bud secrets. Beautiful designs in buds. The autumn dog-
wood bud and its botanical lesson. — A flower that is not a flower. — The toad
and his bagpipe. Drowsy drool of the twilight marshes. A frog-song mimic.
Mimicry of toad song. A very homely singer. Southern frog music extraor-
dinary. A Japanese frog trio. — May-apples and false May-apples. Dr. Gray's
"pigs and boys." The mandrake May-apple described. The swamp-pink
apple and its mission. A poison May-apple. — A blossom in masquerade;

XIV CONTENTS

the flower with a scarlet cloak. — The well-kept secret of the flowering winter-
green, or polygala ; anchor flowers underground. — The dwarf ginseng and
its sweet "ground-nut." — Bewitched cocoons; Polyphemus and Cecropia co-
coons packed full of mischief. A spurious brood; "ugly wasps" instead of
beautiful moths. The witch at work. A pulpit theme.— Life under a stone.
"Finds" for the naturalist. A beetle with a gun: the bombardier and his
shooting propensities. " Three rounds." Utility of the demonstration. — The
devil's coach-horse and his wonderful tail: a test for sharp eyes. The "light-
ning change artist" of the bug circus; from a buzzing fly to a wingless
bug in a twinkling. How it is accomplished. — Butterflies as botany teach-
ers. Plants classified into genera before the era of the human botanist. Re-
markable botanical instincts of the black " swallow-tail." The wise Archippus
and other butterflies Pages 1-86

Summer

kOISON- SUMACHS and the suspected Virginia creeper. Dangerous species
easily distinguished. A simple "jingle" for a talisman. " Expert " advice.
The harmless and libelled Ampelopsis, or woodbine, exonerated. — Awakening
mummies : queer antics of burrowing chrysalids. A strange resurrection in
the June woods. — A glittering-winged gem; pure gold outrivalled. A gold-
mine among the bind -weed leaves. — Another insect gem; glowing jewels
on the dog-bane leaf ; a ruby and an emerald combined. — Prize packages on
the hazel-bush. A clever piece of hocus-pocus ; no string, pin, nor glue. A
long-headed clerk and her well-kept secret. Caught in the act at last. Pre-
cious bundles. — The scouring-grass and its wriggling spores: what a simple
pocket-microscope can show us. A squirming legion. Jumping for freedom.
A pretty microscopic hygroscope. — The " scouring-brush " of the Pilgrim
housewives. Secret of the bright tins. A mineral frame in a vegetable stalk.
A tube of flinty silex which defies nitric acid. Beautiful chemical experiment.
Geological significance of the plant. — "How doth the little busy bee." A
complete tell-tale record of forage among the flowers. Queer fruits from the
bee's "basket." Epicurean and other fodder for bee-babes; melons, tea-boxes,
oranges, bombshells, and pepper-boxes. Pollen eccentricities. A pollen fly-
trap in a milk-weed blossom, and a decorated victim. — Butterfly-net entertain-
ment; harvest of a few sweeps among the herbage. Revelations of the life
that peoples the grass. Insects extraordinary. — A midnight walk and its sur-
prises: sleepy-heads, nightcaps, drowsy fringes, and wide-awakes among flowers
and leaves. Shuttlecocks on blue -bottle stems. Dew diamonds. Glittering
fountain of "horse-tail" plant. The tearful jewel-weed. Titania and the gos-
samers.— A little known bird-song. The yellow-winged sparrow and its grass-
hopper music. The meadow grasshopper and its song. — The well-kept secret
of the evening primrose. The flowers by daylight, and what they can show
us. Blossom - tents and tenants: the primrose's protege. — The spice -bush
and its big-eyed bugaboo. Mystery of that folded leaf. Rustic superstition.
— Musical beetles. The insect orchestra and its various instruments. A
doughty fiddler. A squeaky trio on the poplar branch. Musical collars. The
pretty golden-rod musician. — An eccentric precentor with a double baton and
a ready whip-lash. — The club-mosses and their inflammable spores: a fiery
explosion in the woods. Fireworks at home. "The rocket's red glare." —

CONTENTS XV

Vagabond seeds. Gypsy weeds : the beggar-ticks, clot-burrs, and stick-seeds
of the woods and road-side. A "rogue's gallery" on one's coat-sleeve. A few
tramps identified. A veritable caltrop. — Remarkable "spider's nest" in an
old dress. " Dead" spiders in a wasp-nest. The mud-dauber and her ways.
The lump of mud on the rafters, and its singular contents. A hypodermic in-
jection and a merciful sleep. — The talking fly; his conversation and practice.
— Another underground flower and its little hairy peanut. Flowers for show
and flowers for use ; a singular freak of a common wild vine. — A bower-
building caterpillar. A petal-tent among the everlasting flowers, and what it
may contain: a testimony from the immortelles. — Ballooning seeds. Buoyant
winged fruits with all sorts of wings and parachutes. Milk-weed and thistle
pompons for little girls. A botany lesson in a cobweb. The brownie dust-
brushes of the silky groundsel-tree Pages 89-174

T

Hutumn

HE "fairy ring" mushroom and its compass. Fastidious growth of fungi. — A
queer "bumblebee" and a queer letter. A Bombus that catches "horse-
flies." "Caught in the act." A test for sharp eyes. Some entomological
dissertations on flies and bees for the benefit of a rustic naturalist. A carnivo-
rous fly in masquerade. — How to handle a wasp : the secret exposed. Wasps
rolled in the fingers without danger. Popular traditions disposed of. A re-
pentant experimentalist. An important " spell" which must at least be mem-
orized. Wasps and wasps. A valuable and suggestive postscript. — Wonders
of the fungus. Spore dust. Appalling potential possibilities in a single puff-
ball. Whimsical choice in toadstools and mushrooms. Moulds and mildews.
Fairy parasols and mimic birds' nests. A chrysalis and a caterpillar changed into
fungus plants, and a queer bundle from the Chinese apothecaries' shop. — Au-
tumn pipers: whistling tree-frogs, toads, and salamanders. The spring peep-
ers among the trees. The brown dead leaves and their own frog. A "lizard"
with the voice of a bird. — A murderous burdock and its pinioned chickadee. —
Puzzling cocoon clusters on grass stems. Nature's "Jack-in-the-box." The
"Jack" abroad, and its victim. The cocoon mystery revealed: a resurrec-
tion not planned by the caterpillar, and an episode referred to pulpit philoso-
phers.— Witch-hazel witchery. A fusillade from ten thousand double-barrelled
guns in the October copse. The gun described. — The salute from the violet.
Seed-showers shot from violet pods. Violet blossoms for the world in April, and
others for mother earth in October. A violet freak. — A bewitched willow bud:
a cone which is not honestly come by. Why the willow has no right to a cone.
A magician with a wonder-working sharp-pointed wand. What the chickadee
knows about willow-cones. Other witchery among the twigs. A big family
housed on a blackberry stem. — The frost-flower. Flowers of three kinds on a
common plant, only one of which is generally seen : a showy flower with petals,
a flower with no petals, and a flower of ice crystal prettier than either. — Birds
of November. November bird songs and birds of passage. Snow-birds and
buntings and "kinglets." — The ash-tree and its rustling seeds. The remarkable
"paddle," a prehistoric hint of the "oar" in model and timber. Association
of the ash and the birch in nature and art. The Indian canoe and the arrow-
head model. — Among the birds' nests. Whimsical choice of building mate-
rials. The vireo's " sampler " fabric ; cobwebs, seeds, caterpillar- skins, hor-

XVI CONTENTS

net -nest, lace, horse -hair, and snake-skins. "Politician" and "preacher."
A Scripture text from a " preacher's" nest. A few particular whims in build-
ing material. — A snake-skin specialist. The bed of snake-skins in the hollow
tree. Suggestive cherry-pits in a deserted nest. — Autumn's lingering wild flow-
ers. November's bouquet. November's own flower. The luminous witch-
hazel copse. — A calendar garland of dandelions. The perennial chickweed
and its winter blooms. A blossoming conservatory in a filmy ice grotto. — A
winter bird's-nest. A summer bird-home newly furnished as a snug winter
resort. The field-mouse nursery. — The most marvellous drill in the world.
A horse-hair gimlet. Ichneumon fly specimens in the winter woods. How
and why the drill is manipulated. A rival borer its victim. " Modern" in-
ventions and patents. Infringements on prehistoric models. — Winter ro-
settes. Symmetrical leaf patterns under the snow. Significant arrangement
of leaves Pages 176-243

Winter

TORIES in the snow. Tell-tale records of birds and bead-eyed folk. A mouse-
race and a nest in a stump. Deer-mice at home. — Autograph of the wild hare.
A singular discovery. How bunny writes his name. Employment for sharp eyes.
— The cocoon harvest. Interesting quest for a winter walk. Artful disguise
of cocoons. City specimens. — Some curious twigs in the winter woods.
Witches' brooms. Bulby golden-rod. Curious eggs. — Girdler beetle and their
remarkable instinct. Hickory pruning extraordinary. The pruner's plans. —
The well-named horse-chestnut; its " horse " discovered — hoof, fetlock, frog,
seven nails, and all. — The "partridge" as a snow-walker. Bare summer feet
and winter snow-shoes. Snow burrows and budding-holes. — The "fairy ring"
in the snow: strange snow writings of wind-blown grass - blades. — January
butterflies. Winter outing in the sunny barn-yard. The angle-wings. Hiber-
nation of the hardy, world-wide Antiopa. — A winged shower from the tulip-
tree. — A snow-burrowing squirrel. The provident red squirrel and his happy-
go-lucky neighbor. How the gray squirrel finds his pine-cones through the
deep snow. — Winter grist for the birds. Weeds redeemed. Wind-blown
weed-seeds on snow. A curious windrow analyzed. — Those specks on the snow.
The myriad bird-shaped scales of the snowy woods traced to their source. An
innocent catkin with a trick of its own. Opening the door for the swarm. —
Living specks on snow. Snow-fleas and their history. Entomology and rustic
tradition. — The basket-carrying caterpillar. Its puzzling cocoons. Baby
basket-makers and their building whims. A patriotic specimen. Life in a
hammock. " Pulling the hole in after him." The bag-worm at dinner.
Moored for the winter. Strange superstition of a darkey. The queer little
black moth. — House-builders under water. Interesting dwellers in every pond
and stream. Stone cottages and wooden cabins of the caddis worm. A rare
mosaic tube of crystal. Water-proof cement. Various building designs.
What the rock-fish knows about caddis. "Around the evening lamp." The
" caddis" with which we are all too familiar. A few foreign caddis houses. —
The whirligig water beetle. Its mazy dance at the edge of the ice. Thoreau's
observations. A winter outing. How Gyrinus "goes to bed." The dive to
the depths, with its silvery bubble. Remarkable and unique dual powers of
vision. " Sharp eyes " extraordinary Pages 247-309

Haunt of the Toad [see p. 53] Frontispiece
The Great-eyed Snapping-beetle . vi
The "Bull's-eye" Moth. Saturnia

lo xx

A March Landscape I

The Calla 2

The Earliest Wild Flower ... 3

Maple-seed Antics 4

A Wintry Bit 5

A Spring Morning 7

Peeping Frogs — Cricket and Pick-
ering Frog

A Spring Soloist

The Spring Peeper in October .

Clicking Pine-cones

Jumping Cones

A Cone in its Bed of Seeds . . .

Squirrel and Cone

" By the snow-bank's edges cold " .

Anemone Nemorosa, Claytonia, and

Whitlow-grass

A Nook in the Woods — Dutchman's-
breeches, Rue - anemones, Liver-
worts, and Early Everlasting . . 23

" Squirrel Corn " 24

A Maple-seed Masquerade ... 25

Sprouting Acorns 26

Beech Babes and Clover Infants . 28

Antiopa Butterflies 30

Musical Wing of Antiopa .... 31

Antiopa Caterpillars 32

The "Coral-wing" Locust • • • 35

The Fairy Shrimp 37

The Crackles 38

The Brown Thrasher 39

The "Drummer" 40

The Meadow Lark 41

The Great Ragweed 43

The Small Ragweed 44

Tenacious Oak-leaves 45

A Prehistoric Vase-maker .... 46

21 Tail-piece 47

ILLUSTRATIONS

Opening Buds — Linden, Horse-
chestnut, and Hickory .... 48
The Dogwood Flower, from Bud to

Bloom 49

Puss Willows 51

The Toad and his Bagpipe ... 53

Toy " Locust" 54

A Japanese Frog Trio 56

Azalea May-apple 57

May Woods 58

Mandrake May-apple 59

False May-apple 60

The "Painted-cup" 6r

,\ Meadow Glimpse 62

The Fringed Polygala 63

Tail-piece 64

The Ground-nut Ginseng .... 65

Edge of the Woods 66

Polyphemus Moth and Cocoons . . 67

A Bewitched Cocoon 68

A Spurious Brood from a Cocoon . 69
The Ichneumon at Work .... 70
The Bombardier Beetle . . . . 74

Among the Weeds 75

A Grassy Wood-road 76

The Devil's Coach-horse .... 78

The Crusader Beetle 79

The Asterias Butterfly 80

Butterfly Hunters 81

Asterias Caterpillar 83

Archippus Butterfly and Haunt . . 84
The Milk-weed Caterpillar ... 85

Tail-piece 86

Poison-sumach 89

Poison-ivy 91

White Berries of Poison-sumach . 93
Leaf of the Virginia Creeper ... 95

Awakening Mummies 97

Dryocampa Moth 98

PAGE

• 99

. 100

. 101

. 102

. 103

. 104

. 106

. 107

The Gold Beetle ....
Wild Bind-weed ....
A Country Road ....

Dog-bane

Dog-bane Beetle . . . ,
Hazel Packet-roller at Work

Hazel Packets

The River-bank ...

Scouring-grass 109

The Stone Skeleton of the Scour-
ing-grass no

Scouring-grass Brush m

Nasturtiums 112

Bees at Home 113

Varieties of Pollen 115

A Victim of Milk-weed Pollen . .116

A Grassy Road 117

Insects from the Sweep-net . . .118

A Pocket Magnifier 120

Night-flowering Catchfly . . . .121

A Midnight Walk 123

Horse-tail Plant in the Dew . .124
Blue-bottles by Day and Night . .125
Dew Diamonds of Jewel-weed . .127

A Summer Meadow 128

The Yellow-winged Sparrow . . 129
Haunt of the Sparrow . . . .130
The Meadow Grasshoppei . . . 131
Spice-bush with Folded Leaves . 133
Caterpillar of the Spice-bush . . 134
The Protege of the Evening Prim-
rose 135

Evening Primrose 136

The Evening Primrose Moth . . 137
The Fiddling Beetle (Prionus) . . 138
Musical Beetles (Saperda) . . .140

Zebra Beetle (Clytus) 141

A Titillator 142

Caterpillar of Puss Moth .... 144

ILLUSTRATIONS

Tail-piece 145

Club-mosses 146

Explosive Spores of Club-moss . .148
The Rocket's Red Glare .... 149
Seed Tramps (Biitens) . . . .150
Stick-seed Plants in the Woods. . 152

Too familiar Seeds 154

A Landscape Note 155

The broken " Spider Nest" . . . 157
NVeb of the Yellow Argiope Spi-
der 158

Mud-wasp Nests in Garret . . .159

The Carnivorous Fly 163

A Sketching Nook 164

The Wild Bean Vine 166

Wild Bean Potls, from Above and

Below Ground 167

The Petal-nest of the Hunter's But-
terfly 169

Winded Seeds — Cat-tail and This-
tle 171

Ballooning Seeds 173

Seed-tufts of the Groundsel-tree . 174
The Fairy Ring Mushroom . . .178
A Mimic Bumblebee (Laphria fly) . 181

A Country Road 182

The Brown Wasp 183

Nest of the Polistes 184

Wasp Drones and Neuters on Gold-
en-rod 185

Meadow Landscape i?6

The Chestnut-burr Fungus . . .188

Fairy Parasols 189

The Chrysalis Fungus .... 190
A Chinese Fungus Bundle . . . 191

Autumn Landscape 193

The Tree-toad (Hyla versicolor} . 195
The Burdock as a Bird-trap . . .197
Parasitic Cocoons on Grass-stem . 199

The Ichneumon Fly and its Victim 200

Tail-piece 201

Witch-hazel Catapults .... 203

Jack in the Box 204

Violet Pod expelling Seeds . . .205
Handleaf Violet ( Viola cucullata') . 206
The Willow-cone Gall .... 207
The Blackberry-stem Gall ... 209
The Frost-weed, Flower and Au-
tumn Crystal 210

November Birds — Snow - bunting

and Kinglet 214

Paddle-seeds of Ash . . . . .216

Birch and Canoe 217

Birch-leaf and Arrow-head . . .218

Bird-nest Remnants 219

A Vireo's Nest 220

The " Preacher's " Text . . . .222
The Snake-skin in the Grass . . 225

Witch-hazel Blossoms 226

Dandelion 228

Chickweed 229

A Mouse Nest on Smilax Spray . 230

Feathers for the Nest 231

A Winter Snuggery 232

Mouse- work 233

Ichneumon Flies {Thalessa litna-

tor} 235

The Fly on the Wing 236

The Pigeon Tremex ( Tremex co-

lumha] 237

A Pair of Pincers 239

Winter Rosette of the Evening

Primrose 240

The Rosette of the Moth Mullein . 241
Pepper-grass and English Plantain

Rosettes 242

The Thistle Rosette 243

A Mouse Race 247

XX

ILLUSTRATIONS

A Mouse Nest in old Stump . . 249
The Wild Hare's Autograph . .251

Bunny's Footprint 252

Winter Cocoons 253

Caterpillar of Cecropia Moth . .255
Cecropia Cocoon and Emerging

Moth 256

Curious Winter Twigs . . . .258

Spiny Rose-galls 259

The Girdler Beetle at Work . . 261

A Winter Glimpse 262

Horse-chestnut Bloom .... 263
The Hoof, Fetlock, and Seven

Nails 264

The Ruffed Grouse as a Snow-
walker 266

Feet of Grouse in Summer and

Winter 267

The " Fairy Ring " in the Snow . 269

Winter Butterflies 271

A Winter Outing 272

The Antiopa 273

The Tree-tulip 274

The Seed-shower from the Tulip-
tree 275

PAGE

A Snow Burrower 277

A Raid on the Red Squirrel's

Hoard 279

Winter Weeds and Winter Birds . 281

Curious Meadow-crumbs .... 282

Seed-pods of Indian Mallow . . 283

Snowy Woods 285

Birch-seed Catkins 287

Birch Catkin-scales Magnified . . 288

Snow-fleas 289

Winter Woods 290

Tail-piece 291

A Curious Swarm from a Cocoon . 292

Baby Basket-makers 293

The Basket Moored for the Win-
ter 294

The Basket-carrier at Home . . 297
The Basket-carrier Moth . . . .298

Haunt of the Caddis 300

Caddis Cases 301

" Around the evening lamp " . . 302

Foreign Caddis Houses .... 303

Whirligig Beetles ...... 305

The Beetle Diving with Bubble . 307

The Sharp-eyed Gyrinits . . • 308

— -^^l^&t&EC

HOSE who are really awake to the sights and
sounds fiohich the procession of the months offers
them, find endless entertainment and instruc-
tion. Yet there are great multitudes -who are
present at as many as threescore and ten performances,
without ever really looking at the scenery, or listening to
the music, or observing the chief actors. ' ' — O. W. HOLMES.

THE FIRST BLOSSOM

March loth

HAT is the first token of returning spring?
It is now almost the ides of March. The
winter still rules the landscape, and the fact
i*/;\ may yet be emphasized by a snow-storm or a bliz-
zard, for the almanac gives Boreas a few days more
for mischief.

But the breath of spring is in the air, even though
the meadows be still white with lingering snows. Al-
most any day now we may listen confidently for the fine
prophetic hum of the first honey-bee. For the bees
have felt the vernal prophecy, and have heard whispers
of sweets and blossoms in the air. Here is a little
swarm of them sipping at the dark stain of sap on the

SHARP EYES

trunk of a sugar - maple, while an eager brood have
sought the wood -pile, crowding each other in their
eager tipple from the sweet fermented exudation on
the end of the white -birch log.

But they are not all to be found here. Even as we
watch the gathering swarm at the birch-log feast a new-
comer speeds swiftly past our ear with an especially
eager hum. There is no loitering at the wood-pile this
time. Over the barn -yard and garden, and across the
white field beyond, we can readily trace its flight until
lost in the twiggy mist of the swamp beyond. Another
and another follow in its trail, and if we choose to
wait and watch with patience we may soon
witness the returning procession, each winged
forager with his saddle-bags overflowing with
golden grist. What a vision of summer in
those rounded yellow thighs! Blossoms?
Blossoms? But where?
The ground is covered with
^^f snow, and flaky ice incrusts

the borders of the pools, and
^m/i^f* yet here 'ls our veritable summer

bee laying up its store of pollen.
It is now some weeks before
the wood bouquet of anem-
ones and bloodroots may be
sought with confidence, but
the honey-bee knows where to
find a pioneer blossom that is fast
going to seed when these wood
blooms first show their faces. Even
to us who know the bee's secret,
how often does he give us the hint

THE FIRST BLOSSOM

for the search in the bog before we had thought of a
courier of spring? No matter, then, how cold or wintry
the landscape, go now in early March to the wet low-
lands, and get your first vernal greeting from the lowly
hermit of the bog. Welcome the prophet that
pierces the snow, the pioneer that lifts the bar-
riers of ice to tell us of the message he has
received from mother- earth, long before the
wood flower hears it in the south wind, or the
lisp of the bluebird tells it to the trees ! What
matters it that our purple-mottled, hooded blos-
som is not graced with perfume nor blest with
a poetic name? What though it may not ap-
pear to advantage in a button -hole? The
skunk-cabbage hood is as much entitled to the
NaM name of -flower as its close relative the beautiful
calla, while the naturalized European bees have
long welcomed it to their posy, and recognized
the humble "prophet not without honor
save in its own country."

MAPLE-SEED REVELS

March loth

HAT a universal expression of joyous an-
ticipation, what murmurings of gladness
might we not perceive in the air during
the next few weeks were our human senses
sufficiently delicate and inspired ! What
breathings from unfolding catkins of alder
and willow, and from swelling buds every-
where! What tidings from the myriad quick-
ening seeds down against the sod ! Only
here and there an occasional in-
dividual more conspicuous
than the rest tells the
story of the universal
rejoicing. Here is

MAPLE-SEED REVELS 5

this dancing party of maple samaras on the snowy
lawn, for instance. Is this an exhibition of mere bo-
tanical germination, a simple seed that has sent out
its baby root into the soil, and in so doing has been
obliged to take this singular position? Is it not as
truly an allegory of the universal rapture of nature
in this season of new birth and awakening which is
now at hand ? No ; these are not mere maple seeds
that have felt the quickening power of the south wind,
but a troop of happy children literally standing on their
heads in glee. What thoughts are brewing in those
heads, with their fur-lined caps? What deep plans for
a future maple grove out there upon the lawn ?

Every spring their legions repeat these same express-
ive revels, and yet it is only as we chance to see them
relieved against a late March or April snow that we
ever know of their pretty antics here in the grass.

THE SPRING PEEPERS

March jjfh

LMOST any bright, genial day now
we may listen for the first note of
the spring peepers, the tiny piping frogs
that wet their whistles in the lowlands,
and whose shrill chorus at the water's
edge will soon usher in the April twilights,
and keep the stars dancing on the palpitating
ripples until the dawn. What would our New England
spring be without this faithful music- from the bog?
How many of our sweet-voiced vernal birds, the favor-
ite theme of so many of our poets, might not listen
with profit at the swelling throat of the little Hylodcs,
whose pure strains have voiced the advent of spring
without the tribute of a sonnet, or even an appreci-
ative quatrain — a voice in the wilderness, so far as
any worthy recognition in poetic literature can show !
Truly has Burroughs said that in Europe, where this
swamp music is unknown, such a chorus as that which
goes up from our ponds and marshes would certainly
have made an impression on the literature.

There are a number of these sprightly piping frogs

j

~1

.

and spring croakers which take to the water — or rise
from the mud — even before the ice has melted, each
successively filling with music the brief period of its
nuptial season, during which the pellucid eggs are de-
posited in the shallows. But the first voice that now
breaks the winter silence, and gives the key-note to the
choir which soon shall follow, is pretty sure to be that
of the Hy lodes, whose bird -like whistle is well known
to every dweller in the country, even though the iden-
tity of the singer has been a life-long mystery.

Perhaps this first isolated " peep " is borne to us

SHARP EYES

across the withered rushes or cat- tails as we skirt the
borders of the swamp, or perhaps from some hollow
nook in the woods, where the melting of a snow-drift
has left a glassy pool among the leaves, or even from
some boggy bay at the brink of the stream — "pJice,

p/iee, phce, plicc " — ut-

- tered with brief
pauses, and in the note

E, four octaves above
middle C, or there-
. abouts. Not that I

THE SPRING PEEPERS 9

have ever stood in the bog, with a tuning-fork in hand,
to test the matter scientifically, but in my frequent ef-
fort to mimic the pure, shrill tone with my own inade-
quate whistle, an effort which, patiently continued, has
more than once evoked a lively response from a sus-
picious though silent pool in the spring woods, I have
discovered that no pucker of mine can quite produce
the pitch of this fine water whistle of the Hylodes, or
Pickering's frog. He is usually from one to three notes
above me, while in the matter of quality he leaves me
far behind. Thus the limit of my whistle is C, while
the peep of the Pickering's frog begins at E above, as
I now recall it, the crescendo being given on F. This
seems to be the approximate key of the vernal song.
What influence the peculiar exuberance of the season
may exert on that impassioned voice I know not, but I
do know that the mysterious peep which I occasionally
hear from the autumn trees — for our Pickering's frog is
a "tree-toad" at this season — never seems to possess
the peculiar spring quality.

I have said that he wets his whistle. Let us see. For
even though we approach near enough to get a good
look at the singer, it would probably be difficult to iden-
tify him from the pointed nose and the two tiny bulg-
ing eyes that are all he permits to be seen above the
water; nor even these for long, unless we are very wary.

But we are safe in assuming that we have heard the
Hylodes, probably Hylodes Pickeringi ; or, if not, we
have needlessly confounded him with another related
singer, the cricket -frog — Hylodes gryllus of the earlier
naturalists, but now designated by Baird as Acris crepi-
tans, and popularly known as the " Savannah cricket."
These are the two rival marsh peepers, and it is a "toss

IO SHARP EYES

up " which you shall chance to hear first in your late
winter rambles; and if they are ever to be satisfactorily
fixed in the memory by their songs, it must be at this
season, when an isolated solo is among the possibilities.
In the teeming din of the April chorus their disentan-
glement is a hopeless task. But the " cricket," with his
shrill rattling pipe, easily plays the second whistle, and
there is not the slightest reason for confounding it with
that of the Hylodes. The pure, unbroken tone is from
the yellow throat of the Pickering, and when once fa-
miliarized will not be forgotten. All those other efforts
which fail to meet that standard of purity may be cred-
ited to the comical little harlequin with the pretty mot-
tled tights which I have coaxed out of the water, and
placed where his pert figure can be seen, side by side
with his rival. Whatever confusion there may be in the
vocal identity of the two frogs, there is no confounding
them when seen out of the water. The Pickering Hy-
lodes is yellowish in tone, more or less mottled with
darker tints of the same, the depth of the color varying
with different individuals.

What a contrast to the " cricket," with his olive-green
coat splashed with black and red, and the large black
spots rimmed with white upon the sides ! In the water,
with nothing visible but the tips of their noses and pro-
jecting eyes, and their voices alone to recommend them,
the Pickering peeper has the advantage; but he may
well take a back seat on dry land when he appeals alone
to the eye.

The markings of the " cricket " vary in prominence in
different individuals, occasionally being almost obsolete;
but they may always be found upon close examination,
and are an unmistakable means of identification.

THE SPRING PEEPERS

I I

Every one who lives in the rural districts should
know these two musical messengers of the spring, and
with the help of the portraits I have given they
may be easily indentified. Note the
diminutive size, exactly given in
the illustration, neither species
being more than one inch, or at

most one and a half inches, /. \ \ •",/

long in sitting posture —
"crickets" indeed ! Note
also the peculiar
disk-shaped pads

at the tips of the toes
of the Pickering, espe-
cially of the front feet, a.
peculiarity which distinguishes
this genus of frogs (Hy lodes] and
that of the Hyla, or common tree-
toad, in which latter both pairs of
feet are equally equipped, a character-
istic which to the naturalist tells much
of the habits of his specimens, for it
means that any frog so provided is built
for climbing, and that most of its life
is spent among bushes and trees. It
has long been believed that the tree-

12 SHARP EYES

toads spend the winter, like other frogs, buried in the
mud at the bottom of the ponds and marshes ; but
this is now discredited by many observers, who have
disclosed them during the winter beneath logs, and
in other places far from the water. It is true that
on the first approach of spring weather they seek the
pools to deposit their eggs, and this supreme function
is the impulse of their universal song at this period,

The Pickering frog is the champion climber of his
kind, even outvying the tree -toad, or Hyla. The shrill
voice from the bog is quite as likely to proceed from
some perch among the tall, withered rushes as from the
rippling water, while Dr. C. C. Abbott mentions having
found one of the agile peepers at the top of a tulip-
tree, sixty feet from the ground.

THE CLICKING CONES

March 24th

HILE the skunk-cabbage is pierc-
ing the snow in the swamp, and
the maple seeds are all on end
with the good news which has
come to them apparently through
the quickened sod, the pine-cones in
the tree-tops are firing their salutes to
the first spring breeze.

As early as February I have heard the pitch-
pine woods merry with the clicking cones, and
seen the fluttering showers of winged seeds fly-
ing out upon the snow. To be sure, our botanies mention
no such early ripening of the cones, the second autumn
after flowering being the stated season for the opening
of the scales and release of the seeds. But a pitch-pine
wood in any sunny day in early spring is a merry spot
nevertheless. Both the Austrian and the Scotch pines,
the introduced species of our city parks, are even more
lively and communicative. The sharp click of the Aus-
trian pine-cone may be distinctly heard two hundred
feet from its source, while the hubbub which we may
hear beneath a Scotch pine-tree on a warm March day
sometimes amounts to a bedlam.

It is a frequent pastime with me in my winter walks

to gather and bring home a
pocketful of these various
cones with a view to witness-
ing their curious antics in-doors. There
is no telling just what any particular
cone will do when once placed upon your par-
lor mantel. They are full of individual whims,
and occasionally show an exhibition very much
like hocus-pocus. Here is one, for instance, from the
pitch-pine. Yesterday, when gathered, it was trim and
compact, without a crack upon its surface ; and now, as
though bewitched in the night, it has blossomed out
into a rose-like form with open flaring scales, occupying
three times its former space, and is quietly resting in a
bed of a hundred buff-colored filmy seeds. And there
is another that has rolled half-way across the shelf, and
every few moments takes a new turn in a most restless
fashion. Yonder by the vase we see two of them quietly
rolling over as though seeking a more comfortable posi-
tion, while an impetuous specimen in their midst is
evidently determined to be rid of its restless associates,
for with a sharp click it clears the group at a jump and

bounds out across the
floor. Of course all
these whims have a
very simple explana-
tion if we care to study
the matter philosoph-
ically. The cones gath-
ered in early winter are usu-
ally the most demonstrative, for

their scales are generally intact and so closely glued to-
gether at the surface that they are not likely to yield
without something very like an explosion, especially in
the artificial warmth of the house. The outward ten-
sion of these scales during the process of drying is a
truly powerful force. When one of the scales becomes
detached while held in the hand, it produces a smart
stinging sensation, and when that springing scale chances
to be on the lower side of the cone, while the same is
at rest, the force is sufficient to produce a lively leap.

In the case of the rolling cones and the silent speci-
men with the bed of seeds, it may be inferred that the
scales had been previously rent asunder — tardy ripen-
ers of last autumn, perhaps, that failed to open suffi-
ciently to shed their seeds. The others were doubtless

I 6 SHARP EYES

once fully opened cones which had become closed again
from absorption of moisture from rain or snow, for any
one of these flaring open specimens will assume its orig-
inal form if immersed in water, opening again gradually
as the evaporation is more and more complete. The
opening of the cone begins at the base, each scale over-
lapping its fellows spirally in several tiers to the apex;
as the scale loosens it turns outward, and the pressure
of even one scale being suddenly released, a series of
clicks is likely to follow, as each one sets free its neigh-
bor.

THE SQUIRREL'S BOTANY
LESSON

March 24th

CHAPTER might be written upon
the beautiful symmetrical arrange-
ment of the pine-cone scales. They
are well worth careful study. The squirrel
may here teach us a beautiful lesson in bot-
any. How well he knows this spiral arrangement
of the scales, and the order in which nature intended
they should open !

"The squirrel has the key to this conical and spiny
chest of many apartments," says Thoreau. " If you
would be convinced how differently armed the squirrel
is naturally for dealing with pitch-pine cones, just try to
get one open with your teeth. He who extracts the
seeds from a single closed cone with the aid of a knife
will be constrained to confess that the squirrel earns his
dinner.

" The plucking and stripping of a pine-cone is a busi-
ness which he and his family understand perfectly. He
does not prick his fingers, nor pitch his whiskers, nor
gnaw the solid cone any more than he needs to. ... He
holds in his hands a solid embossed cone so hard it al-
most rings to the touch of his teeth. He knows better

i8

SHARP EYES.

than to cut off the top and work his way downward,
or to gnaw into the .sides for three-quarters of an inch
in the face of many armed [spiny] shields. He whirls it
bottom upward in a twinkling, and then proceeds to
cut through the thin and tender bases of the scales, and
each stroke tells, laying bare at once a couple of seeds.
Thus he strips it as easily as if its scales were chaff, and
so rapidly, twirling it as he advances, that you cannot
tell how he does it till you drive him off, and inspect
his unfinished work."

THE EARLIEST WILD
FLOWER

March jist

T is now within a few hours of the
1st of April, and already the har-
binger spring blossom has bloomed
in the woods perhaps a week or
more ago. What name shall we
give it? What is the earliest blos-
som— the earliest New England blos-
som ? True, there is the skunk-cab-
bage pioneer down in the bog, which
we found some three weeks ago — though
only after the bees had given us the hint and already
discovered it several days in advance of us — and which
has now seen its best days. But by common human
consent this plebeian does not count, even though

2O SHARP EYES

the bee has long settled the question of its qualifica-
tions. It is a flower, perhaps, but not a blossom, so
says the sentimental fiat. Upon what fairer shoulders,
then, does its mottled mantle fall?

It were a rash commentator who would approach
this question idly in the face of the host of natural-
ists, botanists, spring poets, and " careful observers,"
each with his array of facts and dates and witnesses,
his unimpeachable note -book, and his especial floral
favorite for the vernal honors. The question has been
satisfactorily decided by each of them ; and by a wis-
dom born of experience the subject is avoided in mix-
ed botanical councils as one prone to incite to con-
fusion if not to riot. The dogged pertinacity and
unreasonableness of the brethren on this matter are
past belief. I never knew a botanist or spring poet
to be convinced of his error on the subject of the ear-
liest flower, and yet the truth of the matter is as plain
as A, B, C. I long ago settled the question absolutely
and irrevocably. The authorities who differ from me
are all wrong. And what an array of floral candidates
they have put in the field ! There is Bryant, who
voiced the claims of the " yellow violet," which he ob-
served in April "blooming by the snow-bank's edges
cold," and which he further apostrophizes :

" Of all her train the hands of Spring
First plant thee in the watery mould."

But the yellow violet has never since fulfilled the
poet's confidence. Then there's the trailing arbutus,
another favorite of the poet, which has so often been
found in bloom at the edge of the snow or even be-

neath it. Bryant, in his
" Twenty-seventh of
March," pictures it blos-
soming in company with the
liverwort, some days earlier in
date than his yellow violet,
while in his "Winter Piece"
it is the "wind-flower" that
heralds the spring. There are
many sponsors for the
Claytonia, or spring
beauty, the Dutch-
man's-breeches
(Dicentra cucul-
laria ), the rock-

flower (Saxifraga Virginicnsis),
wild -ginger (Asartim Cana-
dense), anemone (A. nemorosa),
rue-anemone, dwarf-everlasting

(Antennaria plant agini folia), bloodroot, and the tiny
whitlow -grass (Draba verna\ Many of them have
been gathered in the snowy woods of March in New
England, and some weeks earlier, of course, in more

22 SHARP EYES

southerly States. The writer once found a cluster of
arbutus in bloom in Connecticut in February, and has
frequently gathered the rock- flower and everlasting in
the last of March and early April. Burroughs has oc-
casionally happened upon the Claytonia and wild -gin-
ger as his first spring blossoms. Which, then, shall
bear the honor as the avant-courrierc? The fact that
you discovered the arbutus on April ist in 1889, and
the Claytonia a week earlier in 1890, proves nothing
as to the comparative natural chronology of the two
plants. There can be no prescribed dates in our floral
calendar. The test, of course, must be confined to a
single season. In the year 1889 the early flowers were
nearly two weeks ahead of ordinary schedule time all
along the line in New England, and careful records go
to show that a margin of a full month is not impossible
during a long period of years.

No ; it is not the yellow violet, nor the Claytonia, nor
the squirrel -corn, nor the arbutus, nor the bloodroot,
nor the anemones that first follow the swamp -cabbage
and the silver- maple tassels; and if the rock -flower, or
everlasting, or whitlow -grass, or wild -ginger surprises
you in your walk in the March woods, accept it as a
witness that your true quest is at hand, for they have
all paid homage to the hepatica —

" whose just opened eye
Is blue as the spring heaven it gazes at,
Startling the loiterer in the naked groves
With unexpected beauty ; for the time
Of blossoms and green leaves is yet afar" —

for that "just opened eye" would doubtless have greet-
ed you several days previous had you chanced this way.

THE EARLIEST WILD FLOWER

When I picked my arbutus
in February, and when Bur-
roughs and Dr. Abbott gath-
ered their Claytonias — the
latter in

February — we
could doubtless
all have found our
hepatica too; and I
am equally confi-
dent that my early
March blooms of rock-
flower and everlasting
were never so early as to
have stolen a march on
the liverworts.

24 SHARP EYES

If the open winter lures any wood blossom to " open
its eye," it will surely be the liverwort, even as this
flower occasionally anticipates the spring in ordinary
winter weather. I have before me a letter from an au-
thority who picked them under a foot of snow on De-
cember 9th, and this, too, in a winter not notably mild.

Truly, then, it is upon the hepatica that the varie-
gated mantle of the swamp -cabbage flower has fallen.
Look at its purple-mottled leaf and be convinced.

QUICKENING SEEDS
AND SEEDLINGS

April 7th

^ FEW weeks ago a
kindly snow upon
\ the lawn revealed to

us the odd pranks
of the maple seeds, which ap-
peared to be standing on their
heads in glee upon the white car-
pet. Without the snow to set
them off so sharply, we never
had noticed them even as now, in
April, we walk the woods, bring-
ing chaos and destruction upon

26

SHARP EYES

whole broods of merrymakers like themselves, though
scarcely as moderate in their doings. Let us look at
that maple frolic once more. How has it progressed?
"On with the dance! On with the dance!" seems to
have been the cry during all these weeks, until now the
woods are full of their wild capers. It is no mere quiet
and contained exuberance now, but a veritable bal
masque, with reel and rigadoon, in which no two of the
participants seem to be of the same mind in whim or
costume or etiquette, while half of them have literally
lost their heads, and the other half their characters, so
that I fancy their own mother-tree above
them would scarcely recognize the flutter-
ing progeny that she sowed upon last
summer's breeze. They are indeed a *4'''

droll and whimsical lot, this troop
beneath the maple-tree. Surely
this pretty revelry is more than
seeming. It is not easy to con
sider it as a mere exhibition of
germinating seeds. To the poet
and the philosopher it brings its
most precious message.
What to the botanist?
Considered as mere quick-
ening seeds, they offer
many interest-
ing facts to the
student; and
inasmuch as
they illustrate
the beautiful
plan of seed-

QUICKENING SEEDS AND SEEDLINGS 2/

germination in general, it will repay us to learn the les-
son which they teach.

Here in this single group we find the baby maples in
every condition of growth, from the bursting samara
standing on its head against the dry leaves, through all
stages of vegetation, to the tiny tree with a half-dozen
or more perfect leaves. A few of the infants still re-
tain their telltale winged caps, and are thus easily iden-
tified; but the group contains a number of intermediate
forms between this and the leafy specimens which, but
for their company, would hardly be recognized. Here
in the foreground is a winged individual which has
matured its root and stem, and stands alone, getting
itself in position for a more ambitious spread above,
while directly above it are two others which are throw-
ing off their swaddling-clothes. All of these are plainly
maples; but what of the three which keep them com-
pany on either side, and the flapping specimens which
wave their double green banners above them ? Farther
on we see a tiny pair of true maple leaves appearing
between these little flags; and, farther still, the unmis-
takable foliage of young maple -trees. As we look at
the various forms we may very naturally ask with Gray
in his botanical lesson, " Was the plantlet formed in the
seed something as the chick is formed in the egg during
the process of incubation, or did it exist before in the
seed ready formed? To decide this question we have
only to inspect a sound seed, which in this instance re-
quires no microscope nor any other instrument than a
sharp knife. We find within the seed the little plant-
1-et already formed, and something else — namely, a pair
of leaves [strap -shaped] borne on a stemlet, all snugly
coiled up within the protecting seed coat."

Nor is this a condition that
has just taken shape on the ap-
proach of spring. It existed pre-
cisely as now even while these
winged broods were green and grow-
ing on the tree last summer. Our
cradled maples could have been disclosed
then as well as now.
And what is true of the maple is true of

seeds in general ; the young plant exists ready
formed in the seed, often protected between two
// so-called seed leaves or cotyledons. We may see
/ it prettily illustrated in the pea-nut or in the bean
by carefully separating its halves (cotyledons), the plant-
let being concealed between them, while in the point
upon the outside we see the radicle ready to strike root.
So it is in our maple. First the rootlet seeks the soil ;
this brings our seed on end. Then the stem grows.
The seed leaves now swell and burst the shell, which
soon falls, leaving only an interior membrane covering
the cotyledons. This, in turn, is soon ruptured and cast
off, while the banners then unfurl, and the tiny pair of
true maple leaves soon appear between them.

QUICKENING SEEDS AND SEEDLINGS 2Q

It is a matter of natural curiosity among the uniniti-
ated why there should be this diversity between the
early and later leaves of the plant. These cotyledons
are not properly leaves, but storehouses of food, and
their office is to nourish the infant plant until its root is
sufficiently grown to absorb nourishment from the soil.

It is not alone in the maple that this pretty masquer-
ade is to be seen in the spring woods. The little green
things among the dried leaves everywhere are full of
interest. Here is the acorn with its determined, rosy,
pulsing radicle, making eager head -way towards the
mould, while its swelling seed leaves are bursting their
bonds. The baby beeches are odd affairs, with the sweet
kernel of the former nut now unfolded from its snug
quarters, and transformed to its two fan-shaped green
nurse leaves with the tiny beech -sprout between them.

We have all heard of four- leaved, five -leaved, and
many-leaved clovers, but it is, perhaps, not generally
known that many of the clover tribe start out in life as
one-leaved clovers, though they seem quickly to repent.
I do not happen to know just which member of the clo-
ver family it was that sat for the portrait I have given ;
possibly the medic. But there was a whole brood of
them, each with its pair of cotyledons, its experimental
single leaf, that invariably shrank away, like a wayward
child, as far as possible from its outraged younger broth-
er that seemed berating it for its degeneracy.

BUTTERFLY SERENADE

NSECT hunters the world over will need
no introduction to the butterfly whose
portrait is given above — the cosmopoli-
tan Vanessa Antiopa of the books, the
" yellow edge " of the American boy's
cabinet, the " Camberwell Beauty " of
England, known to every country boy
as the first butterfly that flits in the early spring, and a
challenge for a chase at any time. But we must make
our acquaintance with Antiopa anew, for he has evident-
ly kept a secret from most of us all these years. It
evidently has something more to say for itself which
few of us have heard.

Here is a matter for our boys to look into. A Mis-
sissippi naturalist writes to our Government Entomo-
logical Department : " Vanessa Antiopa has a ' voice.' I
heard it in Europe, in Lorraine, from two mating An-

A BUTTERFLY SERENADE

tiopas on a beech stem, walking around each other,
and agitating their wings, with oft-repeated cries." This
was new to our Government entomologist, Mr. Riley,
and subsequently he received the following letter sub-
stantiating the fact from an entomologist in Bedford,
England :

" The sound made by this butterfly, without doubt, is the ex-
pression of certain emotions, be it of anger or of love ; but since
it is not made by the breath we cannot, I think, consider it more
than elementary voice. It may be that

"'in Loraine ther notis be
Full swetir than in this countrie,'

for English entomologists are, I believe, generally of opinion that
the sound which butterflies make is caused by their rubbing their
wings together in their ardor. The Vanessa Antiopa is only a
migrant to this country
(Great Britain), and sel-
dom seen, but it breeds in
Europe and Northern
Asia, commonly along wil-
low bordered streams. I
have a few specimens from
the banks of the Po, and
from one of these I have
detached the fore wing.
Along the lower edge of

this I notice a smooth projecting vein, b, which, viewed from the
direction, a, with a strong magnifier, is seen to be flattened and
notched like a file for not quite half its length. This vein, when
the wings are expanded, rests on another projecting vein on
the hinder wing in such a manner that when the upper wing is
moved the notched vein rubs over this vein, as the bow rubbed
with resin works on the violin string.

" Let any one now take a dried specimen of this butterfly from
the cabinet, and grasping the fore wing by its front edge, rub it
backward and forward over the hinder one, so that the bases

meet, but being at the
same time careful not to
crumple the wings, and
so produce a false sound.
He will then, without fail,
hear the sweet secrets of An-
tiopa, which are beautiful and
delicate in expression, recalling
the trickle of a brooklet."

Now that may be all very well
for the European Antiopa, but it
won't work on the American in-
sect. I sometimes have fancied
that I could hear a certain faint
squeak from the moving wings not
only of the Antiopa but also of
the Semicolon butterfly — a sound
distinct from the mere rustle of
the wing. But if our insect does
serenade with its wings, as stated,

its method is not as above described. I don't know
from experience just how the European Antiopa is built,
but there is no such " file " to be found upon the wing

A BUTTERFLY SERENADE 33

of the American species, at least in the twenty or more
specimens that I have examined ; nor can the " sweet
secrets" or the "trickle of a brooklet" be coaxed out
of any cabinet specimen of mine.

I have several times heard of the pretty talk of this
butterfly. Who shall tell us more about it? Here is
a chance for my young entomologist to distinguish
himself. What is this so-called "voice" of the yellow
edge? Does it talk wing-fashion, after the stridulous
manner of the grasshopper tribe ; or with its wings and
legs together, as the locust-fiddlers do; or with its head,
like some of the beetle tribe ; or with its air-drum, like
the cicadas? Of course some of these methods are
hardly to be considered in relation to the anatomy of
a butterfly; but so far as an examination of our Amer-
ican insect would seem to show, any one of them is
certainly as plausible as the explanation quoted, which
may explain in England, but does not in America.

The matter may be easily studied. The butterflies
are now frequenting the tender foliage of the willows
by the brook, and in a few weeks the first brood of
their black spiny caterpillars will literally weigh down
the slender branches as they strip the leaves and leave
their cast-off skins fringing the twigs. Hundreds of
the caterpillars may be gathered in a few moments, and
the walls of your collecting- box will soon be hung
closely with chrysalids, nearly all of which will have
been transformed into butterflies within a period of a
fortnight.

There are two, or, I am led to think, even three of
these caterpillar broods during the year; the butterflies
from the last in autumn surviving the winter.

THE CORAL-WING LOCUST

April 1 4th

HE conspicuous insects are few
and far between at this early
season, and are mostly confined
to the Antiopa and related
Semicolon, Comma, and Red
Admiral butterflies. But for
two weeks past, almost any
bright sunny day in the woods

we may have surprised an agile bit of life that
starts up, perhaps from an unseen source at our feet
in the wood path, and speeds like a rosy streak across
the dry leaves, its flight accompanied with a sharp rat-
tle, which can be distinctly heard for two or three
rods. Though you note the precise spot where the
rosy gleam seems to meet the ground beyond, it will
take a sharp eye to locate it definitely until its blos-
soming wings once more flash in flight. " A tiger-
moth ! " I exclaimed, when I first saw it, as, with eager
net, I captured the prize, which proved to be only
the coral -winged grasshopper, or more correctly, lo-
cust. There can be no mistake as to the "voice" of

THE CORAL-WING LOCUST 35

the Coral-wing, though it is not, to my mind, satisfac-
torily accounted for by the naturalists. I have shown
him in the act of flight as I recall him, though merely
from my memory. Only the large under-wings bear
the bright color, and these are folded like a fan be-
neath the brown wing covers when the insect is at
rest. Above him I have pictured another locust, which
frequently keeps him company in the spring woods,
and they are a pretty and complementary pair together,
the latter being of the brightest green, and though
without rattle or even rustle, as agile as a moth upon
the wing, and in flight it might easily deceive a tyro
entomologist.

.

THE WATER FAIRY

April i

OW is the time to go fairy-hunting. Even
earlier in the month we might have
sought them, but their stay is short, and
we must not miss another week, for in
a few days more they will have disap-
peared.

How well I remember the first discovery of my fairy !
It was about the middle of April, some ten years ago.
The snow and freshet pools had barely dried in the
woods, and while dredging in one of them for micro-
scopical animalcules I brought to the surface a creature
such as I had never known to exist. It was about an
inch and a half in length, and of the consistency of jelly.
Its broad head was decorated with two widely separated
black eyes, its sides were fringed with scarlet plumy fins,
and its rosy tail ended in a long fork.

I quickly turned my attention to the pool, and found
it swarming with these filmy bodies in all stages of
growth. In its element the beautiful creature was near-
ly transparent. Beneath the shadow of a floating leaf it
was almost invisible, but as it emerged into sunlight the
body seemed suddenly shot through with opalescence
of mother-of-pearl, and was thus mainly revealed. This
iridescence played continually through the diaphanous
body in various tints of green and pink a,s the fairy

THE WATER FAIRY 37

darted or glided about, and certain sunny spots in the
pool were distinctly pearly lustred by their numbers.
It was like a strangely fashioned palpitating opal dis-
solving before one's eyes, and the incessant waving ac-
companiment of the gliding feathery scarlet fringe by
which the swimmer propelled itself was beautiful be-
yond description. I brought home several specimens
in a bottle for my aquarium, but they were too fragile
for such treatment, and all perished in a few moments.

I made a little sketch in my note-book from memory,
simply to aid me in identifying my fairy. It is only a
hint, but with my descriptive memoranda made at the
time I had little difficulty in naming my specimen. It
is the Fairy Shrimp (Branchippus vernalis}, under which
title my reader may find out all about the beautiful
creature. Those who live in the country should not
miss a fairy- hunt during the coming week. The Bran-
chippus is a gem indeed for any aquarium.

APRIL BIRDS

April 2ist

>HE advent of
true April days

is not to be welcomed by the almanac
— the season when the sod gives forth
its tinctured incense, when the "April
showers " bring odorous responses from
roots and quickening seeds; when the rocks
and bark of trees and even the decaying
leaves have a breath and a perfume. " It
begins," says Burroughs, " when the par-
tridge drums; when the hyla peeps; when
the shad start up the rivers, and the grass greens in the
spring runs; and it ends when the leaves are unfolding
and the last snow-flake dissolves in mid-air."

The dandelion has been accepted as the first floral
"pledge of blithesome May." What is the true feather-
ed pledge of April ? Authorities differ. With Emerson,

"April's bird,
Blue-coated, flying before from tree to tree,"

is of course the bluebird ; but he came in early March,
or perhaps has been with us all winter.

With Burroughs it is the robin, " brisk, vociferous,
musical ; dotting every field and larking it in every
grove. He is easily atop at this season, as the bobo-
link is a month later. The tints of April are ruddy
and brown — the new furrow and the leafless trees —
and these are the tints of its dominant bird." But
with me it is not the robin that is associated with the
'• brown furrows " and the early planting. It is his con-
gener, the mocking brown thrasher, with his " plough
it ! plough it ! hoe it ! hoe it !" and whose first counsel
is timed with those swelling dog-wood buds, whose full
bloom is the " corn sign " of the New England farmer,
and the accepted signal for the corn -planting.

But we need not quarrel with the commentators as
to the one anointed April bird. Each has his pet pro-
tege, the child of fond association, for there is in truth
a whole troop of "April's birds " to choose from, though
the great bird choral has yet to come. Almost any
genial day now we may confidently listen for the
" cheerily, cheerily, cheer up ; cheerily, cheerily, cheer

SHARP EYES

up" of the robin; the "pu-
rity, purity" of the blue-
bird; the "phebe," the
" conkaree " of the redwing
in the bog, to say nothing
of many other so-ngs which
the poets have similarly
translated. Every April
lover will recall the " quick,
quick, quick, quick " of the

•

I

flicker in the budding

woods; the "spring o' the

year," or " I see, I see you,"

from the meadow -lark in

the distant field, or the "sweet,

sweet bitter," and we know not

what else, of the song-sparrow.

But when it comes to the real
" first pledge " of April among

APRIL BIRDS

the birds, I am prepared to stand by the testimony of
Hosea Biglow,

" First come the blackbirds, clatt'rin' in tall trees,
An' settlin' things in windy congresses."

The clamor of the noisy grackles in the pines is
easily the most characteristic and conspicuous early

bird sound in New England, and April
would indeed scarce be April without
them. But there still remains another
April pledge from the birds, a note too
fine for the ear that is content with the
blackbird's carnival, but nevertheless as
faithful to the season as it is the rar-
est, most subtle, and thrilling of its bird
music.

How vividly is it revived in that line of Trow-
bridge's,

"The partridge beats his throbbing drum."

There is no bird sound like it, this soft, murmurous
tattoo of the grouse in the bare, freshening woods.
It is in harmony with the first heart-throbs and ac-
celerating life of exuberant awakening nature — the
quickening seeds, the flowing sap, the swelling buds —

42 SHARP EYES

" Puff! puff! puff! puff! puff! p-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r." In a
paper in Harper 's Magazine I have had something' to
say about this drum of the partridge, but I surely
cannot let this " April " pass in my natural history
calendar without again referring to the bird, partic-
ularly as I should thus miss a grand opportunity of
sending a host of wide-awake boys on its track to
learn its well-kept secret; for this mysterious "drum"
has apparently never yet been seen by mortal eye. I
have shown my bird as I once saw him at close range,
only that his wings of course were in a whirr of mo-
tion. He had his drum with him too, and the muffled
roll filled the woods. Where did he keep it? Here is
the testimony of a few of the prominent witnesses who
have seen him in the act. You can take your choice,
and then go and find out for yourself.

A host of ornithologists claim that the bird beats
with its wings " the log " on which it stands.

Brewer affirms that the wings beat both the log and
the sides of the bird.

Audubon says he strikes his sides after the manner of
the rooster. [An act which the rooster never performs.]

Burroughs says the drum is " its own proud breast."

Wilson says the bird beats nothing but the air, and
Burroughs later comes to the same opinion.

Bryant thinks the same.

Thoreau and Flagg and the writer assert that the
wings are struck above the back if anywhere.

All these authorities differ also as to the position
which the bird assumes when drumming; some affirm-
ing that he stands upright, as a drummer ought, others
that he stoops to a horizontal position. Come, boys,
which of you can give us the facts ?

RAGWEED PITH

April 28th

STROLLER in waste
places or weedy corners,
either during the winter
or now, before the copses are
clothed in foliage, may well
p.iuse a moment among the
skeleton thickets of the
great ragweed, in its
perfection the tallest
of our weeds. One
April, a few years since,
I found a stalk
eighteen feet four
inches in height
by actual meas-
urement. But it
•^ is not with a tape-
line this time that
-' * I ask you to tarry.
:?-^ "Ambrosia," the
^87 plant is called in

44

SHARP EYES

the botanies — "food of the gods" — "an ill-chosen name
for these worthless and coarse weeds," says Dr. Asa
Gray. I confess that this indictment seemed perfectly
just, until I chanced to discover the contents of their
dried stems. What other of the weeds can show a
marrow which comes so near to immateriality as this
of ragweed? A pith which I will venture to say is
lighter and more buoyant than any vegetable tissue
of like bulk. It seems almost to float as it falls from
your hand, while its cross fracture, with its iridescent
sheen, certainly brings reminders of the rainbow in the
realm of the gods.

.

THE ^*

TENACIOUS v-^
OAK-LEAVES

April 28th

/?

SB T is not easy to get at the secret of the oak

1 in retaining its leaves throughout the whole
___ Bj calendar, for here, in late April, are seen the

f J&A_

I white and red oaks still defying the winds.
Now, if the oak-leaf were constructed on
the plan of the button-wood leaf, whose stem grows
like a protecting cup over the bud of the following
year, we could readily frame a theory; but it does noth-
ing of the kind. These persistent oak-leaves are placed
beneath the new buds, while those of the button -wood
fell in early autumn, exposing the tender bud to the
winter storms.

If we examine the white- oak branch, we shall find
that many of the leaves have been twisted off by the
wind, leaving only a short remnant of a stem beneath
the buds; and even these adhere so tenaciously as to
leave a fresh green scar upon removal. They yield
only as they are pushed off by the swelling bud above
them.

THE

BROWNIE-JUGS AND
THE BROWNIE

April 28th

LL through the winter months
we might have seen our brown-
ie-jugs, as large as hazel-nuts,
neatly secured to various twigs
in the thickets, but I have pass-
ed them until I could bring the
reader face to face with the lit-
tle potter that is responsible for
them.

He has been in hiding during the
cold months, and was to be known
only by his works; but now he is
out again, and will soon make his
first jug after the pattern that his
ancestors have handed down to him ;
•' for long before the human vase-maker
fashioned his clay upon the wheel these
little jugs were being turned out by
Eumenes fraterna. Such is the name his
historians have given him.

Jugs serve a variety of uses, but none of human fash-
ioning is ever used for precisely such purposes as these
of Eumenes i which serve as a receptacle for treasure, a
larder, and a home as well.

THE BROWNIE-JUGS AND THE BROWNIE 47

I have seen many a jug catalogued in a bric-a-brac
sale that did not have nearly so interesting a history as
one of these clay pots of the vase -maker wasp. It is
made of sand and yellow mud. When completed, the
wasp lays an egg within it, and then proceeds to pack
it full of tiny green caterpillars, each of which she has
paralyzed, though not killed, by a stab of her sting.
The opening of the vase is then plugged up with a
mud cork. Presently the egg hatches into a little grub,
that feeds for the rest of its days on the living store
of food.

By the time the supply has run short, the grub has
become a chrysalis, and soon pushes out the plug, and
appears a full-grown wasp, like its parent, and it will
make as pretty a jug as the one it leaves the first time
it tries.

UNFOLDING BUDS

May <jt

UR literature of nature contains nothing,
it seems to me, more happy, as a tranr
script of the pageant of the vernal sea-
son in New England, than that quaint
calendar in the provincial tongue of
Hosea Biglow,* "Sunthin* in the Pastoral Line," from
which the following is quoted.

What mirrored truth is in this picture:

"The maple crimsons to a coral reef;
The saffern swarms swing off from all the willers,
So plump they look like yaller caterpillars ;
Then gray hoss-chestnuts' leetle hands unfold,
Softer'n a baby's be at three days old."

Here is another complete and exquisite touch :
" Young oak leaves mist the side-hill woods with pink."
* The Biglow Papers. By James Russell Lowell.

UNFOLDING BUDS

49

Where is the artist who would lay his canvas beside
it as a talisman to memory alone ? With the begin-
ning of May the woods are full of color; there is a re-
flection of autumn in the tender foliage tints; there are
bursting buds and budding leaves that mist the hills
with pink and white ; others that mist the gray thicket
with yellow aureole ; the shad-tree blooms and the flow-
ering dog-woods hover like white entangled clouds in
the distant woods.

Those winter buds which, we have seen for months
on the bare twigs are now unfolding in endless variety,
showing with what wondrous art the embryo leaves
and blossoms have been packed away in their warm
winter snuggeries. No two seem designed on

the same plan or unfold in the same manner.
The linden leaves unfold in drooping conical
pendants, each sheltering the one below
it. The tulip-tree has
a beautiful method
peculiarly its own.

5O SHARP EYES

Look at this great satiny hickory bud swollen almost
to the size of a magnolia, while another near by has
burst into a mimic fleur-de-lis, with golden drooping
scales, disclosing the folded leaves and catkins which
were to be found last January had we sought them.
Any one who has watched the development of the
horse-chestnut's varnished bud, with young leaves en-
tangled in the cobwebby festoons of soft brown wool,
will appreciate Lowell's apt allusion above quoted,
while the bud of each separate shrub or tree in turn
will reveal some interesting individual trait.

Let us look at the development of this dog- wood
bud. Even as early as last September it was to be
found upon the tips of the twigs, making ready for the
next year's spread of bloom even before its surrounding
leaves had thought of falling. Later in the autumn
it had increased in size, and the bare November tree
left them all exposed precisely as we saw them all win-
ter. In February they begin to swell, and the common
belief is that the large white blossom is at this time
forming within eager to burst its bounds. Not so. In
April these four purple bud-scales finally open, disclos-
ing the cluster of tiny flower-buds at the centre, but no
sign of the four great petals, for the dog-wood blossom
is not a blossom ; it is an assemblage of blossoms, the
so-called white petals, being, in truth, no petals at all,
but only singularly modified leaves, or what the botany
calls a corolla- like involucre enclosing the true flowers.

It is generally supposed that the flowering dog-wood,
like other true blossoms, has simply thrown off its win-
ter bud -scales, and bloomed from within; but if we
carefully examine these white heart-shaped leaves, we
find that no such thing has taken place. The bud scales

UNFOLDING BUDS 5!

have not been cast off, as is usual with buds, but have
simply grown, that purple puckered tip so noticeable
in each of the mimic petals, being the identical hol-
low scale which formerly wrapped the cluster of flowers
at the centre, the white floral leaves being simply a con-
tinuance of their growth from beneath, having carried
them far from their original position, while the true
flowers at the centre now bloom and prepare for the
cluster of scarlet autumn berries.

THE TOAD'S BAGPIPE

May i 2th

ARLY in icy March the swamps
sounded their first welcome to spring
in the shrill peep of the Hylodes, or
whistling frogs, and from week to
week since new broods of peepers
have come and gone, filling their brief nuptial pe-
riod with their own peculiar music, until the late April
marshes were palpitating with their teeming din.

Among this later chorus we might have heard the
lingering peepers, the occasional " t-r-r-r-r-r-r-rdt "
of the gray tree -toad, the harsher note of the green
clucking frog, the spasmodic wavering croak of the
black- cheeked wood frog, and a certain strange shrill
rattle, which we may catch occasionally even now, but
whose animated source I have not yet satisfactorily as-
certained. It is a peculiarly high, vociferous, exclama-
tory trill, with an ascending scale and a high crescendo,
and may be imitated by means of that noisy toy with
which most boys are familiar, and which is called a "lo-
cust." As we used to make it, it was composed of the
tip of a bottle neck, or a small tin spice-box with the
bottom removed, having a piece of kid tightly stretched

THE TOAD'S BAGPIPE

53

across its opening. A doubled horse -hair was knotted
to the centre of this small drum-head, and the slip-loop
at its other end passed round the tip of a small smooth
stick, on which a groove was made to receive it. When
this groove was wet and the drum revolved in the air
the " locust " spoke for itself, to the joy of the small
boy even if to the nuisance of every one else. If this
drum be held firmly in one hand and the stick in the
other — the horse-hair being very tightly drawn — a quick
twist of the handle, accompanied with a tighter pull on
the hair will almost exactly re- produce the frog

song in question. I hope some day to decoy and

identify my mysterious frog ' by this device,

54 SHARP EYES

though I suspect he may turn out to be an old friend
who has been making sport of me all these years. The
little toy may be made to mimic a number of the frogs
and toads.

But the early musicians are now forgotten. A new
singer has come upon the scene, and his mellow noc-
turne in the twilight marshes
brings a message unknown
to his predecessors. This is
^•^ no shrill peep that stirs your
blood and sets your ears
a-tingle, no bubbling rattle

or vibrant croak that cries " qui vive" to your eager
senses, but a drowsy drool that brings your feet to loit-
ering in the deepening dusk, and whose distant music
from the swampy lowlands lulls you on your pillow. It
is to me the sweetest sound in nature, the faithful chos-
en voice of the twilight, one of the most characteristic
attributes of late spring, and yet, like the sprightly wel-
come of the hylodes which ushers in the vernal season,
it still remains unsung by our poets, or if occasionally
acknowledged the true singer never gets the credit.

Who will immortalize in verse the pensive witchery,
" most musical, most melancholy," of this tremorous
song of the toad, for it is in truth the uncouth and ill-
favored toad that now swells his bagpipe in the marsh-
es and fills the night with music ? It is one of the be-
neficences of nature that the twilight glamour throws a
veil of obscurity over the performer while it emphasizes
and consecrates its music.

I have spoken of the toad's bagpipe. Those who
recall the dual tone of the national Highland instru-
ment, with its continuous drone and accessory varia-

THE TOAD'S BAGPIPE 55

tions, and the inflated source of the. combined music,
will readily appreciate the allusion as applied to the toad.

There are few who have discovered the peculiar art
by which the toad expresses his emotion. Often I have
coaxed an encore from him at mid -day by decoying
him with a mimic song, which may be almost perfectly
produced by combining an ascending prolonged whis-
tle, beginning on the tone of second D above middle C,
and running up to A, with a droning sound of the voice
near the tone of the second F below middle C, although
a strict adherence to either tone is not necessary.

It is a surprising and saucy response that we receive
down there among the lily- pads, as may be conjectured
from my truthful portrait, and the familiar sound that
comes up to us thus robbed of its twilight attributes
gains nothing by being out of season. But this picture
is for naturalists, not for poets. It is the song and not
the singer that concerns the poet.

I cannot close this batrachian page without offering
my commiseration to my friends of the South. The
frog- music of Louisiana and Florida, as I heard it two
years ago, has left its scar upon my memory; for while
I recognized many familiar voices and instruments strug-
gling in the din of those rainy nights, the great burden
of the orchestration seemed borne by a legion of name-
less instrumentalists, who, judging from their perform-
ances, operated on a sort of primitive guitar, presum-
ably consisting of rubber strands stretched across a
tomato -can. Yes, as I have said, the spring song of
the frog has yet to find its poetic interpreter. But, oh,
my poet of the flowery land, beware ! A sonnet from
you on this theme would forever blast your hopes for
poetic fame, though it might exalt you as a humorist.

56 SHARP EYES

I have a little group of Japanese paper frogs playing
on guitars which, with very slight liberties, as shown
below, might serve as an illustration to such a Southern
poem, while in the foreground I have pictured a double
whistle, which I picked up in a Japanese bazaar, and
which produces the two veritable tones which the toad
voices from his inflated bagpipe. It is evident that the
land of the Mikado has a toad song similar to that of
Bufo Amcricanns.

We hear of the toad " swelling its throat " in song
like a bird, but few of those who have seen the white
flashes at its mouth during that song have imagined
the true nature of the toad's bagpipe.

MAY-APPLES AND MOCK
MAY-APPLES

HE name "apple" seems
to have been a favorite and
convenient resource to the
botanical christeners for fruits and fruit-
like growths of all kinds. There is the
oak-apple, a gall produced by the sting
of an insect; cedar- apple, a fungus; tomatoes were
called love-apples, and potatoes, ground-apples; the
Indian turnip-root of the plains, the prairie -apple; the
papaw, the custard-apple. Then we have the pineapple
and the two May-apples, not one of which is any more
entitled to the name of " apple" than were the apples of
Sodom, though from all accounts they are somewhat
more agreeable to the taste than the Scriptural fruit.

m

Few New England boys need be told what the May-
apple is — the real May-apple of the swamp -pinks and
of the Pilgrim Fathers, not the yellow tomato -like af-
fair known as May-apple in the States farther south
and west, and which the doctors and botanists call
Podophyllum. No; the May-apple of the South has a
selfish errand in life ; it is filled with seeds, and is con-
cerned only in its own posterity; but the May-apple
which hangs among the clusters of the wild, fragrant
pink swamp -azaleas has no mission in the world except
to melt in the mouth of the eager, thirsty small boy.
He knows little and cares less what it really is. He
only knows that it beckons him as he passes through
the May woods, and its cool, translucent, pale- green
pulp is like balm to his thirsty lips. How it makes the
corners of my jaws ache with thirsty yearning as I think

MAY-APPLES AND MOCK MAY-APPLES

of it ! And what a pink whiff of the swamp May-blooms
its memory brings !

The May-apple of New Jersey and southward is a

true fruit, which fol-
lows a large white
flower, and Dr. Gray,
the botanist, says "it is
eaten by pigs and boys!"
Think of it, boys! And think
of what else he says of it: "Ova-
ry ovoid, stigma sessile, undu-
late, seeds covering the lateral
placenta each enclosed in an aril."
Now, it may be safe for pigs and billy-
goats to tackle such a compound as that, but
we boys all like to know what we are eating,
and I cannot but feel that the public health offi-
cials of every township should require this formula of
Dr. Gray's to be printed on every one of these big
loaded pills, if that is what they are really made of.
There is no such formidable indictment to be made
against the New England May-apple; the worst that
they can say of it is that it is an " abnormal excrescence
of cellular tissue and chlorophyll," and of course we
all know what that means, and how appetizing it is too.
Nor is the small boy obliged to share his mess with
the pigs, for the choice New England morsel is held
far out of their reach.

6O SHARP EYES

The true nature of the azalea May-apple was long
a mystery. Some authorities believed that it was a gall
growth caused by the sting of an insect, as in the oak-
apple. But I believe it is now accepted as a mere
modified bud or extraordinary growth of pulp, whatever
its origin. It has no seed, and its whole interior is of
the same firm consistency.

But there are May-apples and mock May-apples, and
the small boy may well beware of the latter poisonous
variety. These may be seen hanging sometimes in
close company with the azalea apples upon the Andro-
meda bushes, and are frequently gathered by mistake;
and such would seem to be their artful object. But
there need be no confusion, for though in outward ap-
pearance the similarity is striking, the interior of the
false apple is found to be hollow and stringy. These
mock-apples turn to black, unsightly pouches when they
grow old, and at this season would seem to fulfil the
Scriptural account of the "apples of Sodom," which
"turn to dust and ashes," the interior of the mock
May-apple being filled with ashen powder and rem-
nants of plant -lice, for this growth is of insect origin.

r

May 26th

OT many of us have guessed the
cunning mysteries of my trio of
secretive blooms nor truly merit-
ed their confidences. These are
the "painted-cup," the fringed
polygala, and the dwarf -ginseng. Yes, we
know them all; for have we not picked them
a hundred times, even though perhaps we
may not have known their names? They make
a pretty bouquet upon our mantel; but we lit-
tle imagine what a quiet frolic is going on there
at our expense.

"Scarlet tufts

Are glowing in the green like flakes of fire!
The wanderers of the prairie know them well,
And call that brilliant flower the ' painted -cup.' "

Thus sings Bryant of this flower which is not a

flower — this glowing display which floods not only

the Western prairie, but our low May meadows of the

East, with " meadow fire," as it is sometimes called.

6

62 SHARP EYES

The "painted -cup" is perhaps the brightest touch of
color among the whole wild bouquet. Even the cardi-
nal-flower, its only rival, must yield to its intenser glow.
A cluster of the flowering plants is dazzling in its brill-
iancy ; and yet when we pay our tribute to the " flow-
er," we are giving credit where it is not due.

The actual flower of the "painted-cup" is an insignif-
icant greenish tube -like cloistered affair that is rarely
detected by the ordinary observer, being guarded by a
gorgeously attired retinue of leaves that acquire a dis-
tinction they do not deserve. The " cup " is composed
of many flowers, each waited upon by an attendant leaf,
suggesting a three -lobed cape, which seems to have
been dipped to its centre in the most vivid scarlet
paint. It is the accumulation of these which gives the
color effect to the plant, and they are mere leaves in
masquerade. Bryant calls them " bright beakers," and
pictures them as " holding the dew for fairies." But it
is a cup only in general outline, and would prove a
leaky " beaker," although it has managed to hold its
secret pretty securely from many of us for years.

AN UNDERGROUND FLOWER

May 26th

HE stroller in the moist May woods will well
remember those mauve-winged blooms among
the moss that seem to flutter in the breeze,
like a brood of
tiny purple butterflies with
fringy tails, or in a shel-
tered nook appear to have
settled in a swarm among
the winter-green leaves.
" False winter-green " the
plant is commonly called,
its leaves bearing a slight
resemblance to those of
the aromatic checkerberry.
It is one of our oddest
and prettiest spring flow- •
ers ; in its very singular
shape quite suggesting an
orchid, with its two spread-
ing petals and deep laven-
der-colored tasselled sleeve.
But, indeed, it has long
been laughing at us in that

64 SHARP EVES

sleeve, as we have brought away its flowers from the
woods, while we left its rarest and most important
bloom behind us.

For the little polygala found out long ago that some
means must be adopted to keep its foothold in the
woods, so many were the eager hands that culled it ev-
ery year. And so it formed a little plan to anchor itself
in its home beyond the reach of bouquet hunters, offer-
ing one posy for the boutonniere, and another for moth-
er earth — one playful flower for the world, another for
serious use and posterity. But for this cunning resource
I fear our pretty fringed polygala would have been ex-
terminated in many of its haunts. Let us lose no time
to seek the purple broods in the woods, and gracefully
acknowledge our humility. These pale, pouch-like un-
derground flowers are not beautiful to look at, but they
plant the mould with seeds every year, and thus per*
petuate the purple beds of bloom.

. ..:«

^ THE
GINSENG'S SECRET

May 26th

OW safely buried is the treasure
of the small ginseng, that pret-
ty little wild plant, with its
feathery ball of bloom and cir-
cle of attendant leaves. It

carpets many a mossy nook in the
open wood or swamps, its clusters
_^ of fragrant white pompons
often intermingled with
the purple blooms of the
fringed poly gala just de-
scribed.

The "ground-nut" it is plain-
ly called in all our botanies; but
I have known an eighty- year- old countryman who had
picked the blossom in his childhood and had known
the plant all his life, and its name, too, and yet had
never suspected why it was called "ground-nut." 1

66

SHARP EYES

have also heard the plant called " pignut," which re-
calls Caliban in The Tempest :

"And I with my long nails will dig thee pignuts."

But the " pignut " of Shakespeare is the secret of an-
other plant which grows in foreign soil. Nevertheless,
not until we follow the example of Caliban and " dig "
can we really claim acquaintance with our little dwarf-
ginseng, whose sweet edible tuber deep under the
mould, is known only to the few.

THE BEWITCHED
COCOONS

June 2d

N the table before me lies a letter from a
young correspondent who has been having
some perplexing entomological experiences
of so interesting a nature that I have con-
cluded to publish her account, and my an-
swer.

" DEAR MR. GIBSON, — I want to tell you what a funny time I
had with those three cocoons that you gave me last winter. You
remember they were quite large, and all wrapped up close in
leaves, and were very hard, like parchment. You said that they

•

were all the same kind, and that I would be sur-
prised at what would come out of them, and you
may be sure I was. They have given me three sur-
prises, and I don't understand them a bit. Mamma
says that she believes you knew all the time just
what would happen, and that if these first three
cocoons are a sample of your collection she would
like a dozen, and she will promise not to be sur-
prised now at anything that may come out of
them, from a pug-dog to a fiddler -crab. But I
don't believe you knew it at all, be-
cause you spoke only of 'some-
thing beautiful ' for my collec-
tion, and I know you would
not have disappointed me, so
I am going to tell you all about
it, and hope that you will explain it
to me, for I am dreadfully puzzled. . . .

"You told me to put the cocoons in a
box, and towards spring to take a look at
them every day or so. I put them on
my shelf, intending to get a box
pretty soon, but forgot about it ; and
one morning when I woke up I look-
ed towards the mantel, and thought
...... I must be dreaming, for there, hang-
ing on a drooping leaf of grass from a
vase, was a great butterfly with brown
wings, and with two spots like big eyes
staring right at me across the room. I
never saw such a beautiful butterfly before.
I called mamma, and she put a pin in it, and
killed it with chloroform, and it is now all
nicely spread in my cabinet. Now that was
a double surprise, for the butterfly came out
in winter — instead of spring, as you said —
and it was so much bigger and lovelier than
anything I had expected. I was very glad,

THE BEWITCHED COCOONS

too, that I caught it before it had hurt its wings by flying about
the room ; and so as to make sure of the others, I put the co-
coons right in a box, and looked at them a dozen times a day.

" The next surprise was one I shall never forget. One morn-
ing I opened the lid of the box and looked in, and what do you
think happened ? A great yellow wasp flew up into my face, and
almost frightened me to death. Mamma heard me scream, and
came in and drove the wasp out of the window. He was a dread-
ful ugly thing, and I am very glad he did not sting me. . . . And
this morning came the third surprise, and I don't know as I want
any more of this kind of cocoons. I opened the box, and found
it swarming with small wasps with red and black bodies and
stings half an inch long. I was glad enough to let them fly out
of the window. Are they the big wasp's young ones, or what ? . . .
Yes, indeed, your cocoons have been ' surprises,' as you promised
— real mean frauds, I call them, and I shall not forgive you until
you tell me all about them. I begin to believe, as mamma says,
that you packed all this mischief into them yourself, just for a lark."

" MY DEAR YOUNG FRIEND, — I was greatly amused at your
letter giving the account of your experi-
ence with those three Polyphemus cocoons.
Never mind whether or not I knew how
they were loaded ; you may be sure that
whatever 'mischief was 'packed into
them' was put there before they came
into my possession. Bewitched they cer-
tainly were, but not by me. I can make
a silver 'quarter' disappear, and mystify
you with various card tricks, but I
have no such magic touch as the
witch that charmed those two
cocoons. ... I am sorry you
did not keep a specimen
of the 'ugly wasps'

JO SHARP EYES

for your collection. You have had an instructive lesson in one
department of entomology of which you knew nothing before,
and those wasps should properly have had a place in your cab-
inet side by side with the beautiful moth ; for, singular as it may
seem, nature has designed that these insects should be quite in-
timately associated — much too intimately to be agreeable to the
Polyphemus, as I will explain.

" As I told you, those three cocoons were spun by three cater-
pillars, exactly alike to all outward appearance, and of the spe-
cies called Attacus (or Teled) Polyphemus. One of the cocoons
has yielded its perfect development in the beautiful moth. The
other two caterpillars did their best, poor things ! to win a simi-
lar future, but that was a matter beyond their control ; and their
fate may serve the moralist as an illustration of what a sad
transformation the deadly thrust of a little sin may bring about.

"The caterpillars were bewitched before they spun their co-
coons— ' voudooed,' as they say down
South. And the voudoo? Well,
you let loose a whole brood
of the witches to continue
iheir mischief when
those ' wasps ' escaped

r ,

THE BEWITCHED COCOONS "J I

at your window. For your 'wasps' were not true wasps, but
ichneumon flies ; the large one is called Ophion macrurum, and
the swarm which you imagined might be the ' young ones ' of
the ' big wasp ' are another species, from the third cocoon, with
the same evil parasitical ways. Briefly told, their doings are as
follows : These two species know a Polyphemus caterpillar when
they see him, and to find them feeding among the leaves is the
end and aim of their existence. Once discovered, they alight
upon him, either thrust their stings into his body, or simply
penetrate the skin, and, much against his will, lay a number of
eggs, for the so-called 'sting' of the ichneumon flies is more
properly the ovipositor, through which the eggs are conducted
into the bodies of their victims. The caterpillars of the Cecropta
and Prometheus moths are frequently to be found with their
backs speckled with the tiny white eggs nearly the size of the
letter i of this page. We shall get no moths from these cater-
pillars. The ichneumon fly has sealed their doom. These eggs
hatch into minute larvae that penetrate the caterpillar's body,
and feed upon the fatty portions, avoiding any attack on its
vitals, and thus permit it to attain its full growth, and even to
spin its cocoon as you have seen.

When once thus securely provided with a warm house for the
winter, the ichneumon grubs, now nearly full grown, proceed to
devour what remains of the unfortunate caterpillar host, until
occasionally no vestige of him remains. With this final repast
the larvae reach their full size, and then proceed each to spin a
cocoon for itself, thus filling the cavity of the Polyphemus cocoon
with their own silky cases, packed side to side so solidly as to
take the hexagonal shape of a honey -comb. The grubs then
change to pupae, and eventually make their exit through small
holes in the outer cocoon, and fly abroad, to the terror of future
Polyphemus caterpillars — and little girls.

" But that larger fly is certainly a formidable affair, and you are
hardly to be blamed for a reasonable amount of caution ; for
though its sting is not so formidable an instrument as the smaller
insect possesses, it is capable of ir flicting a severe wound, as I
know from experience.

" So here you have the mystery solved — an instance of a phase

/2 SHARP EYES

of entomological life which is full of interest alike to the natu-
ralist and the philosopher. I could tell you of other wonders of
ichneumon life even more strange than this ; and if you are a
true student of entomology you cannot help but discover many
quite as interesting, only next time don't throw your lesson to
the winds."

THE
BOMBARDIER-BEETLE

'&Jl' , fune Qth

W HE familiar counsel to the aspir-

ant for success to " leave no stone
unturned " is said to date back to
the Delphic oracle, and to one who
,f> persistently follows the precept

something worth while is generally
sure to turn up. Even in literal fields,
the country rambler who will " turn ev-
ery stone," even in a small corner of the
meadow, has many surprises in store for
him. It has always been a favorite pastime with me,
this overturning of stones, and I know not how many
thousands of them, big and little, and even rocks, too,

74

SHARP E\TES

-m

have disclosed their dark secrets to me. Under one I
find a mouse-nest ; another, a snake or toad ; the next
one may disclose the nest of the solitary bee, or brown
wasp, or mud-dauber, or rare spider; and here I find a
pretty orange -spotted salamander, or wood -frog, or a
rare cocoon, to say nothing of all the host of squirming
things — beetles, bugs, caterpillars, centipedes, iules, ar-
madillo-bugs, and ants — which are among the certain
dwellers beneath almost any stone in the field. Sur-
prise after surprise came

to me, until at last I

».

thought I had them all.
But one day I found
out my mistake.

I had lifted a large
^ ' flat rock and turned it
over, when I was im-
mediately saluted with
a distinct explosion, ac-
companied with a tiny
cloud of smoke among
the border grasses. I
quickly parted the
grass, and saw a small
blue beetle partly concealed beneath a dried
leaf. I sought to pick him up, when I was
treated to a repetition of the explosive report
and another cloud of smoke. Here was a cu-
rious freak indeed. A regular sharp-shooter, blue uni-
form and all. I captured my insect, and placed him
in a collecting-box. Shortly afterwards, upon lifting
the lid, the prisoner gave me another volley. But no
provocation could induce him to further waste his pow-

THE BOMBARDIER-BEETLE 75

der. His ammunition was exhausted, and he evide itly
carried only three rounds.

I had heard of a beetle with these same bombarding
propensities which was found in Europe, and called the
" bombardier," but had never known of its being found
in this country. After a night's
rest in captivity the explo-
sive spunk of the insect
was revived, and I got , , f :'~ "*^
another round of three V ^<£^L^>
shots out of him, the
puff of white smoke-
like vapor staining
the tin on the in-

terior of the box and leaving a pungent, acid-like odor.

Since that first discovery I have found a number of
the specimens, and their remarkable powers as cracks-
men are a never-failing source of mirth, even to those
who have served as a target.

It is said by the naturalists that this peculiarity of
the bombardier affords a means of protection against its

70 SHARP EYES

enemies, not only in its poisonous chemical properties,
but the puff of vapor serves, perhaps, as a screen for es-
cape, throwing dust, as it were, in the eyes of its pur-
suer, and analogous to the inky cloud of the cuttle-fish
beneath the water. But why should the bombardier be
thus favored? He has legs and wings like others of
his tribe, and needs no such resource of escape.

Shall we dismiss all recognition of any humorous in-
tention in nature? Has travesty no place in the divine
scheme? I confess that, excepting as a bit of droll
eccentricity, the bombardier has little to pique my phi-
losophy.

THE DEVIL'S COACH-HORSE

June yth

HE bombardier, though unique in his way,
has a rival in mere drollery in the devil's
coach -horse. This horse has an odd trick
of his own with his long tail, which, in its
way. is quite as surprising as anything the
bombardier can do. He is the " lightning
change artist" of this bug-circus, trans-
forming himself from a buzzing, gauze -winged fly
into a lively wingless bug in the twinkling of an
eye. Here is a chance for our boys to test their
eyes. There is a whole tribe of these profane horses,
big and little. A butterfly-net swept among the
meadow flowers and grasses will certainly capture a
number of them — the smaller species — and their tricks
can be observed through the meshes of the net . as
they fly from side to side. But the best raree-show is
to be had from the large species, though it is quite in
keeping that we must frequent haunts from which the
polite nostril would naturally shrink if we would find
the devil's finest coach-horse in his element, for the

78 SHARP EYES

rove-beetle, as he is also called, is one of the tribe of
carrion and scavenger beetles. His glistening, agile,
and comical presence may be seen about barn -yard
compost and other decaying refuse upon which he
seems to alight in the semblance of a bee or wasp,
when his gauze wings suddenly vanish as if they had
dissolved into air.

What is the hocus-pocus? Here comes one of the
insects buzzing yonder over the grass. Keep your eye
intently fixed upon him. Now he alights near by, and,
quick as a flash, up goes the agile tail, and with its
tip the large filmy wings are folded and tucked away
beneath their tiny pair of wing- covers in a twinkling.

The identity of this queer devil's horse would natur-

THE DEVIL'S COACH-HORSE 79

ally puzzle the young student of entomology. A mo-
ment ago, while on the wing, he appeared a veritable
wasp, and now a nondescript — a kind of wingless hor-
net or fly. The edges of its body flash with a yellow
satiny sheen in its various motions in the sun, and an
occasional attitude betrays the presence of the two tiny
wing covers otherwise unnoticed. In these unconspic-
uous wing covers, however, we may find our key to his
identity among insects — the distinguishing character
of the beetle tribe, of which these comical creatures
constitute a curious exception and a distinct genus —
the staphylinus.

BUTTERFLY
BOTANY TEACHERS

June i6th

BLACK swallow-tail — a black
swallow-tail! Look! quick!"
Such was the cry I heard
many times last summer from my
studio windows. But my studio
was not in the city. The cry was
not that of the hopeful, aspiring,
metropolitan dudelet lost in ad-
miration for the only " swallow-
tail" which is ever likely to thrill
his being, and whose visible
haunts of rest and flitting are
the tailor's window and the
3w ball-room. "A swallow-tail!"
It was a cry that quickened

my pulses and carried me back to unburdened
boyhood. Such was the challenge that was then as
now the signal for a tireless chase over the ten-acre
meadow with eager butterfly net and panting breath

BUTTERFLY BOTANY TEACHERS

81

and vociferous exclamation of hope, defeat, or victory.
That is only half a country boy who does not know the
"swallow-tail" and the butterfly chase.

Yes, we country boys all know the velvety " black
swallow-tail " butterfly and its fluttering poise above
the clover blossoms ; its two border rows of yellow
spots and cloudy band of azure blue upon the lower

82 SHARP EYES

wings, each with its red eye-spot and long tail. We
have caught him in the meadow, we have found his
gray chrysalis hanging under the clapboards, and have
wished for a few more pairs of hands as we gath-
ered the black-banded, gold -spotted, green caterpillars
among the garden beds of parsley and carrot. We will
say nothing of those yellow horns which he keeps so
carefully concealed, and which he will display upon
slight provocation, though, if he only knew it, he ap-
pears to much better advantage without this peculiar
head-dress.

But while we knew our butterfly all our lives, capt-
ured him, mounted him, and with learned label, " Pa-
pilio Asterias" stowed him in our cabinet in the com-
fortable conceit that there was little else to be known
about him, how few of us have thought of what a rare
lesson in botany this Asterias has been wasting on us
all these years ?

In a previous volume* I have devoted a chapter to
the botanical instincts among butterflies as seen in their
selection of food plants for their young, and this Aste-
rias is one of the most remarkable examples. Under
his guidance during a single day we may learn a sur-
prising lesson in botany.

We have too long thought only of the " idle butter-
fly " of the poet as the type of charming heedlessness,
the "gay idler "-

" The sportive rover of the meadows

Kissing all buds that are pretty and sweet,"

and sipping honey in " quiet ecstasy."

* Strolls by Starlight and Sunshine, '

BUTTERFLY BOTANY TEACHERS 83

Idle, indeed ! Observe the insect carefully, my poet !
Does my butterfly alight and linger on yonder leaf of
carrot for honey ? And now on the parsley leaf, and
here again on the celery. For honey? Are there any
flowers for it to " kiss " on yonder feathery leaf of fen-
nel or caraway? And now it floats off across the field,
joined by two or three more like itself. Let us fol-
low their rounds, and carefully note the plants that
they visit, excluding those visits in which the honeyed
flowers are so evidently the sole attraction. Here is
the list which you may count upon in advance, and
upon each plant the eggs are laid that hatch into

those beautiful green caterpil-
lars : parsley, fennel, carrot, cel-
ery, poison - hemlock, cicuta, sium, dill,
caraway, anise, wild -carrot, sanicle, an-
gelica, archangelica, lovage, and water-
pennywort.

This list in itself would not strike
the ordinary observer as especially re-
markable, and would seem haphazard enough to justify
the poet's charge of heedlessness. It is not until we
turn to our botany with our list that we learn its sur-
prising meaning. Here we find all these plants
grouped under the one order, Umbelliferce, or the
"parsley family."

The Asterias butterfly is an expert specialist in this
one family of plants, and has never been known to go
outside of it in its selection of food plants for its young.
Remember, then, those caterpillars and the lesson that
they teach, for upon whatever plant you find them,
you may instantly class it as a member of the parsley
family.

Then there are the Semicolon and Comma butterflies
that will lead you to all the plants of the " nettle " fam-
ily, while the little yellow butterfly picks out all the
Leguminosce, or bean family, and so the list continues.
We all know the Archippns, with her deep orange-

red wings veined with black,
her black-and -yellow banded
caterpillar that hides beneath
the milk-weed leaves, and her
emerald -green chrysalis stud-
ded with golden buttons. And
what can she teach us? Her
lesson is an interesting one,
for I suspect that the Ar-
cliippus can see further into
the milk-weed tribe of
plants than most of the
botanists. The common
silk-weed is her favorite,
but if you search you
may find her caterpillar
broods on various of our
other milk-weeds, of
which there are a dozen
or more.

But how is this? x«fr""''?
Here I find them ^ ;*
upon the dog-bane !
What does our botany
say to this? The dog-
bane is not included in
the milk-weeds, though it
is the next family in the flora, while
its opposite leaves, milky juice, pods
with silky seeds, and other resem-
blances in the flower, would certain-
ly seem to entitle it to admission in
the family. And as we look back into

86 SHARP EYES

the history of the plant, we find that the earlier bota-
nists, did include it in the family from which it has
been removed only within comparatively recent time.
It is really a question which is right in the matter, the
butterfly or the botanist. I shall live in hopes of see-
ing the scientific brethren united in giving the priority
to Dr. Danais Archippus, who doubtless classed the
dog-bane with the milk-weed ages before the world
knew a human botanist.

NTOMOLOGY extends the limits of being in a new
direction, so that I -walk in Nature with a sense
of greater space and freedom. It suggests, be-
. sides, that the universe is not rough -hewn, but
perfect in its details. Nature will bear the closest inspec-
tion ; she invites us to lay our eye level with the smallest
leaf and take an insect view of its plain. She has no in-
terstices ; every part is full of life. ' ' — THOREAU.

POISON-SUMACHS AND

HARMLESS WOODBINE

June 2jd

HAVE been thinking that one who urges
his troop of boy friends to an indiscrim-
inate quest among the woods, meadows,
and copses takes a great responsibility
upon himself if he fails to caution them of the
dangers which they are certain to meet. I do not
speak of wild-cats or snakes, but of a much more
sly and perilous foe, the poison-sumachs, which lurk in
every corner, and seem to lie in wait for their victims
by every wall and in every thicket.

There is one page of botany which every dweller in
the country should learn. The short chapter on the
Rhus, or sumach, is easily committed to memory, and a
few moments' study will equip any boy to meet the
dangerous tribe on their own ground and give them a
welcome or a wide berth, as they may deserve.

90 SHARP EYES

There are five species of sumach which are more or
less common in the eastern United States. The sixth
species of the genus, Rhus aromatica, being especially
found westward. Of these but two are poisonous — the
RJnis venenata and the Rhus toxicodcndron.

The first of these is a truly venomous plant, frequent-
ing swamps and wet thickets, where its foliage blends
with the alders and willows. It bears the popular
names of poison-sumach, poison-dogwood, and poison-
elder, and is a shrub varying from six to twenty-five
feet in height, with foliage as suggested in the accom-
panying introductory illustration, consisting of about
five pairs of opposite and a terminal leaflet, the form
called " odd pinnate " in our botanies. To the ordinary
observer it appears somewhat like the other sumachs,
though on careful examination it will be seen to have
a distinct, pert, mischievous, "all on end" look about
it, caused by a peculiar upward inclination of the leaf-
lets. Its swampy haunts should also serve in a meas-
ure to identify it ; and though in the summer it might
easily be encountered unawares, in the autumn it need
never so waylay us, for, as Thoreau says, " it blazes its
sins as scarlet " in its haunts, and is conspicuous.

The other poisonous species, Rhus toxicodcndron,
would scarcely be considered a sumach at all by the
ordinary observer; its popular name of "poison-ivy"
being quite expressive of its peculiar habit of growth.
The other common name of " poison oak " applied to
the same plant would seem to be rather inconsistent
with the first, but the two are scarcely as inconsistent as
they appear, for the Rhus toxicodendron masquerades in
a variety of guises both as to foliage and manner of
growth, the two extremes being so widely at variance as

almost to entitle the forms
to be considered as distinct
species, and which have been
so presented by some botan-
ists, Rhus toxicodendron in the
bushy form, Rhus radicans when
climbing. Here, for instance, is a
thick shrub with somewhat oak-
like leaflets growing in the open
meadow. Here a bramble -like
screen creeping over the rocks.
Here in the woods an ivy-like vine,
its foliage concealing the trunk of
the tree upon which it climbs, and with its brown,
hairy, snake -like stem circling about the limbs to
which it clings like a parasite.

This singularly hairy trunk has often been men-
tioned as a feature by which to identify the plant, but
it is of little reliance. You will not find it in the bush,
in the meadow, nor in the slender sprays among the
rocks ; for there it often takes the form of a root, and
is found under ground.

One favorite haunt of the ivy is the stone wall ; and

92 SHARP EYES

another, the fence. In the latter haunt it often thrives
very luxuriantly, enveloping the decaying post in the
coils of its brown shaggy trunk, and sending out smooth,
bush -like branches from the summit quite in the man-
ner of the true European ivy, not as we see it in this
country, where it usually clings close to its wall, but
as it everywhere luxuriates among the castle and abbey
ruins of the Old World.

This last habit of the poison -ivy occasionally gives
rise to a singular tree-like form. I recall one such spec-
imen, which is possibly a hundred years old, and though
no vestige of a fence now marks its neighborhood, it
was doubtless once fostered on a fence-post which has
become obliterated in decay.

But there need be no trouble in identifying the poi-
son-ivy in any of its forms. The hairy trunk will often
serve us, but there are two other features which are of
much more value.

First let us remember that its leaves are always
grouped in threes whatever the outlines of their more
or less wavy margins.

In some sections the plant is always called the " three-
leaved ivy." And this naturally leads me to a consider-
ation of that other vine with similar habits which is
commonly known in the same localities as the "five-
leaved ivy," and a leaf of which I have here pictured
(see tail-piece).

This is a leaf of the Ampelopsis qiiinque-folia (quinque-
folia — five leaves), also called Virginia creeper and
woodbine. Look at the leaf, and fix its form in your
mind. This is one of our most beautiful native climb-
ers. It is allied to the grape-vine, is perfectly harm-
less, and is the one innocent victim that has to suffer

POISON-SUMACHS AND HARMLESS WOODBINE

93

from suspicion, being often destroyed under the impres-
sion that it is the " poison-ivy."

The writer knew of a person who possessed a beautiful
home upon the Hudson, and whose deficiency in knowl-
edge of this one little page of botany cost him a severe
loss. His children were suddenly prostrated with ivy-
poisoning, and one of his "ninth hour" neighbors came
in to offer him some learned advice — something in this
style, as it was narrated to me:

"Well, Squire, it's fetched 'em at last. I've been
tellin' Betsy all along that the pesky stuff would ketch
ye arter a while. Well, thar, goodness and truth ! Time
an' time agin, when I've been goin' by the gate an' seen
them air children playin' in the summer-house yender,
it's made me feel 'tarnal ticklish, an' I've sed time and
agin, an' tole Betsy so tew, that I'd bet my best gobbler
they'd be broke out afore a week, an' now they've done
it; an' if you take my advice, you'll cut the pesky weed
down an' burn it afore the hull on ye is ketched. You
needn't look so surprised, Squire. What I'm
tellin' ye is fer yure own good. That air weed is
pizen-shumake, an' it'll nigh on to kill some folks."

Such advice, coming from a practical farmer
in whom the " Squire " had perfect confidence,
was immediately acted upon. The vines
which had embowered the beautiful arbor for
a generation were sawed off at the ground.
And to think that a peep into the botany
might have saved them!

Four things need to be committed to
memory to insure safety against our poison-
sumachs :

First. The poison-ivy has three leaves.

Q4 SHARP EYES

Second. The five-leaved is harmless.

Tliird. The poison-sumachs have white berries.

Fourth. No red-berried sumach is poisonous.

Both the poison-ivy and the poison-sumach, though
unlike in appearance of foliage, have similar ^v]lite ber-
ries growing in small slender clusters from the axils of
the leaves. In all other sumachs the berries are red,
even in the other three-leaved species RJius aromatica,
and in close bunches at the ends of the branches, and
far from being dangerous, yield a frosty- looking acid
which is most agreeable to the taste, and wholesome
withal.

With these simple precepts fixed in the mind, no one
need fear the dangers of the thickets. But for the ben-
efit of that numerous class who " can't remember which
it is, whether the five-leaved or the three-leaved that
is poisonous," I would offer the following simple six-
line jingle, which may easily be committed to memory
and will prove an ever-ready guide in their walks:

Berries red,
Have no dread !
Berries white,
Poisonous sight!
Leaves three,
guickly flee !

a perfectly safe mental talisman against danger. But
to which I may also add as a postscript, in considera-
tion of the one Jiannless three-leaved species, Rhus aro-
matica, which is else under the ban :

Leaves three, with berries red,
Fragrant sumach, have no dread.

POISON-SUMACHS AND HARMLESS WOODBINE 95

No account is here taken of the jive-leaved because
it is not a sumach, and need not trouble us. With this
at one's tongue's end, no one need repeat the hazard-
ous exploit of two young ladies whom I know, one of
whom, as a committee on church decoration in a coun-
try town, brought her arms full of the scarlet autumn
branches of the venomous sumach; while the other once
sent the writer a really beautiful group of carefully ar-
ranged rare grasses and mosses generously decked with
the white berries of the poison-ivy. Both of these rash
maidens, I believe, paid the severe penalty of their
botanical innocence.

The harmless "Virginia-creeper" is occasionally a law
unto itself as to the number of leaflets, not contenting
itself with the five prescribed in its natural christening.
A correspondent recently sent me a dozen or more
leaves of this plant presenting the unusual multiplica-
tion of its leaflets to six, seven, eight, and even nine in
one instance, all of course springing from the central
common stem, as in the appended illustration of the
typical leaf, an innocent plant which every lover ot the
country should recognize as a friend rather than aft
enemy.

THE
AWAKENING MUMMIES

June jot/i

HAT an odd dumb-show is going
on out here under the oak-trees
in the woods ! for almost any day
now, if our eyes are sharp enough,
we may surprise some such quaint
family party as this which is here pictured. Now an in-
dividual with its brown head just protruding from the
ground, and here another half-way emerged and quietly
squirming in the opening of its tunnel, or, perhaps, hav-
ing made its exit, lying quietly on the ground near by.
Still farther beyond we may discover another which
seems to have yielded up the ghost, being entirely emp-
ty and open at the summit — a mere dry shell. What
does it all mean? A strange resurrection certainly!

Let us search carefully among the herbage close by,
for we may be sure that the beautiful moth which so
lately tenanted this uninviting dwelling is somewhere
to be found. Its wings are semitransparent in texture
and of an ochre-yellow color, speckled and banded with
purple, with a yellow spot in the centre of the upper
pair, and will expand nearly three inches.

.

An hour ago this fuzzy creature nestled snugly in
yonder mummy standing in its burrow, and when the
twilight steals through the woods it will expand its
filmy wings, and later, perhaps, flutter about the even-
ing lamp upon our table. It is the pretty oak-moth
(Dryocampa senatorid), a common insect known to near-
ly all juvenile collectors, but not all of them have seen
the little pantomime of the chrysalids beneath the trees.

The episode affords an illustration of an interesting
resource in the lives of many insects whose transforma-
tions take place underground.

The black and yellow striped caterpillars of the Dry-
ocampa live in swarms upon the oaks, often completely
stripping the boughs of foliage. When full grown —
at which time they will measure some two inches in
length — they descend from the trees, and burrow in the
ground to the depth of several inches, and within an

98 SHARP EYES

oval cavity, which they form by persistent squirming,
are transformed to chrysalids, which will average about
an inch and a quarter in length. Here they remain
through the winter, and in the last of June and begin-
ning of July, the moth being then almost ready to
emerge, they work their way to the surface of the
ground, and this explains my queer pantomime under
the oak-trees. The ground beneath almost any oak
which has been known to be infested with the cater-
pillars is certain to contain a number of the chrysalids,
and if such a spot in the woods be carefully cleared of
leaves with a rake in early June, the search, during the
following weeks until the middle of July, is quite cer-
tain to be rewarded.

There are other exactly similar chrysalids from the
same group (Dryocampa) which you are quite as likely
to find — that of the "rosy moth," perhaps, whose cater-
pillars live upon the maple.

A WINGED GEM

June joth

HIS is the week when we may go pros-
pecting for our first specimens of gold
and emeralds, for the copses and old stone
walls will soon prove mines of wealth lit-
erally begemmed with jewels. We have
seen many entomological enthusiasts who have exclaim-
ed with wonder and admiration at the brilliant beetle
of the tropics, little dreaming that a few moments' walk
along their own garden fence perhaps might have shown
them a hundred native specimens which may challenge
the Brazilian species for brilliancy. We have two not-
able examples, and while neither of them is very large,
they are marvels of glitter and refulgence.

There is the little gold beetle, for instance, which
should have the first place — Cassida aurichalcea. Where
can he be matched in the world for the pure lustre of
burnished gold? He is the brightest gem of concen-
trated metallic glitter that the whole beetle kingdom

IOO

SHARP EYES

can show ; and yet who ever sees him, even though in
one short walk in the country lane he may have passed
perhaps ten thousand of them — a gold mine in truth?
During the coming week the Cassida will be with us.
But where shall we look for him ? Wherever the pink-
blossomed bind -weed blooms he also is sure to be
found. This vine often clothes the stone walls for sev-
eral yards beneath its arrow-shaped leaves. These
leaves are generally more or less perforated with small
holes; and if we quickly turn them one by one, or, stoop-
ing, look beneath them, we may surprise the tiny creat-
ure feeding, and appearing like a drop of molten gold,
clinging like dew to the leaf. But you
must be quick if you would capture him,
for he is off in a spangling streak of
glitter. Nor is this golden sheen all
the resource of the little insect ;

• •i&-»v>

.^WK

.* ^ '

/.:

A WINGED GEM IOI

for in the space of a few seconds, as you hold him in
your hand, he has become a milky, iridescent opal, and
now mother-of-pearl, and finally crawls before you in
a coat of dull orange.

A few of the beetles kept in a box and supplied with
leaves, changing from gilt to mother-of-pearl or dull
coral, as the whim suits them, are an interesting study.

Beneath the bind -weed leaves one may also find
numbers of small black larvae with a singular black lat-
tice held suspended flat over their backs upon their
forked tails. These are the inconspicuous and uncouth
grubs from which our golden beetles have sprung, and a
little search among the leaves will also disclose numbers
of the tiny chrysalids suspended by their tails.

Don't let the summer pass without making the ac-
quaintance of the Cassida. After the 1st of July he
may be found until late autumn. You must see him at
home if you would see him at all, for the dead insect
loses all this wondrous lustre. The wild bind-weed is
the favorite haunt of the insect, but the cultivated
morning-glory even about our porch is often begemmed
with these living jewels without our having suspected
their presence.

THE DOG-BANE JEWEL

June jotk

HE only rival of the Cassida, just de-
scribed, the "green dandy" (Eumolpus
auratiis) is quite as common and even
more conspicuous, though he is to be
found only upon his single favorite plant, the dog-bane.
If the reader does not know the dog-bane plant (Apo-
cymini androsceniifoliuni), the accompanying sketch will
serve to identify it, with its bell -shaped pink and fra-
grant flowers and long pods. It is a quite common
plant, and favors the border thickets of woods and lanes
and old walls.

During the coming week the dog-bane begins to deck
its jewels, and the botanist is quite likely to find himself
studying entomology instead of his favorite pursuit as
he plucks his specimen of dog-bane, and discovers its
leaves studded with glittering emeralds and rubies. For
the dog-bane beetle is not golden -yellow like the Cas-
sida, as its scientific name implies. It is not easy to
describe its brilliant, burnished hue, which is either shim-
mering green, or peacock-blue, or purplish-green, or re-
fulgent ruby, according to the position in which it rests.

THE DOG-BANE JEWEL

103

The beetle is nearly half an inch long, and is unsur-
passed in the intensity of its color by any native insect
of its tribe, while it suffers little by comparison even
with some of the most brilliant tropical species.

As with the Cassida, the collector must act with
promptness in capturing the beetle, for while it lacks
the agile wing of the gold -beetle, it has an odd trick of
drawing up its legs and dropping among the grass as
you would lay your hand upon it.

Unlike the preceding, the intense color of the dog-
bane beetle is perfectly retained in the cabinet speci-
men, and a few of them judiciously disposed add greatly
to the effect of a collection of insects.

THOSE HAZEL PACKETS

Jtdy 7th

••jit J*aj«'\ \ OR years I have seen these curious pack-
ets on the hazel, and similar ones on the
alder. I have found them by the dozens
brown and dry, and needing only a touch to
dislodge them as they hung from their at-

tachment; and I have found them fresh and

green, as if the mysterious clerk that had
done them up had left them for a moment to get a
string. But no matter how patiently I waited for him,
he never would return, and for years his identity was a
complete mystery. Last summer I determined to catch
him at his work, and I did ; and am now able to give
some account of his clever hocus-pocus — or rather, I
should say her hocus-pocus, for my little clerk proved
to be feminine. If the reader has never seen any of
these curious little packages hanging upon the hazel
and alder bushes, they are well worth looking up.
They may be found all summer, and occasionally are
to be seen by dozens on a single bush. In each case
the same method has been adopted, the leaf being first
folded face to face along the midrib, and then tightly
rolled from tip to stem, and here retained in its com-

THOSE HAZEL PACKETS

105

pact coil by a true touch of jugglery, for there is no
resort to pin or string, nor even a web to be seen.

There is a real knack about it all, as we may very
easily learn by trying to do up
one of the packages ourselves.

I had long suspected a tiny
brown beetle, which I had occa-
sionally observed suspiciously near
the bundles, as their author, and
last summer I was fortunate
enough to see my suspicions ver-
ified. Chancing upon a hazel
bush which was hanging full with
the little packets, many of which
were still fresh and green, a
careful search disclosed one
of the tiny insects at its
work,. and here is the proc-
ess, the secret magic tie,
and the deep-laid plan
which it all involves : The
beetle first bites through
the leaf to the mid -vein
close to the stern, and par-
tially through the midrib
also, leaving barely suffi-
cient of the same to retain
the weight of the leaf, which
soon wilts in the hot sun,
and in its limp condition is
ready to be rolled. It is
then folded face to face
along the mid-vein, the bee-

IC»6 SHARP EYES

tie compressing it with its legs. A tiny yellow egg is
then deposited at the extreme tip, and the weevil,
standing sideways, and holding firmly to the leaf with
its upper feet, passes its three lower legs beneath, and
starts the fold, the roll being thus carried to the sum,
mit, the insect alternately taking a fresh grip farther
up the leaf with each successive pull. Upon reaching
the top, a loose cut edge of the leaf is turned backward
to overlap the last fold of the coil, and thus serves to
hold it in place. Without this deft touch the coil
would unroll. The bundle soon bakes brown in the
hot sun, and shortly falls to the ground. The tiny egg
subsequently hatches into a minute grub, which feeds
upon the dried interior, and at length, the following
spring, emerges a perfect beetle.

I have seen the ground beneath the alder bushes
strewn thickly with the little packets, hundreds of them
in a small space ; and, considering the industry and
number of the package clerks, it is singular that I could
have waited so long to discover them ; but this is ex-
plained in a sly trait of the beetle, which cuddles up its
legs and drops to the ground on your approach, unless
you are very wary.

' THE SCOURING-GRASS AND
ITS SQUIRMING SPORES

July 7th

)COURING-GRASS (Equisetuin) was much
more intimately known to the early Pil-
grim housewives than it is to their de-
scendants, for in the olden time its hollow,
flinty stems were in great repute for kitch-
en-cleaning purposes. A glance at the
accompanying sketch will serve to recall
the plants to those who are unfamiliar with their name,
and to such I can recommend them as genuine curiosi-
ties in many ways, and well worthy a little study. Our
scouring- grass possesses many peculiarities which its
old-time friends little suspected. To the botanist it is
especially interesting not only as a modern type of that
ancient class of plants which formed the chief vegeta-
tion of the carboniferous era, but also on account of its
squirming spores, which have long been a favorite study
of the microscopist.

The scouring- rush belongs to the tribe of flowerless
and seedless plants — Acrogens. In the botany it is

IO8 SHARP EYES

named Equisetum, or " horse-tail." In place of seeds, it
perpetuates its kind by the aid of spores, which are
secreted in the fruit-like heads at the tips of the stems,
and when ripe are shed in clouds in the wind. Each
fruiting head is composed of a compact arrangement of
six-sided cells, and beneath each of these the spores are
formed. They float out like yellow dust upon every
passing breeze. But it is lively dust, indeed. Let us
pick this opening fruit, and shake a little of the powder
upon the glass of our pocket microscope. Upon look-
ing through the lens we see a myriad of motionless yel-
low spheres covering the field ; but in a moment it
becomes a wriggling, squirming mass of life, and in a
moment more the entire legion are jumping for free-
dom, and sailing off with their buoyant wings. A pinch
or so of the spores shaken in the hollow of the hand
appears like mere yellow powder; but even with the
naked eye, after the lapse of a half-minute or so, it may
be seen to transform, gradually swelling to a bed of yel-
low downy fuzz, occupying several times the space of
the original powder. If a drop of water is allowed to
fall upon it, the fuzzy tuft appears to melt and contract;
and as the water evaporates, the same downy develop-
ment is repeated. A person seeing these squirming le-
gions in the microscope for the first time would cer-
tainly suppose he was looking upon the liveliest swarm
of living animalculae. Alive they certainly are; but, in
spite of appearances, the curious objects are mere vege-
table spores endowed with this singular faculty to in-
sure their propagation. When first seen upon the mi-
croscopic slide they appear as yellow spheres circled
with four small ridges ; but as the whim takes them,
these ridges suddenly uncoil, and after a brief period of

THE SCOURING-GRASS AND ITS SQUIRMING SPORES

.

twisting and wriggling the spores
leap from the glass, and the wind
then takes care of them.

The secret of it all is very sim-
ple, however. These strange antics
being merely the singu-

109

lar hygrometric result of
evaporation from the four
filaments, for a drop of
water or even a careful breath
will cause them all to coil up as
when packed in the cone. This
curious exhibition may be seen
by almost any one, as the various
species of Equiseta are quite com-
mon in swampy districts every-
where, and a simple pocket micro-
scope, or even a strong magnifying-
glass is sufficient to show the
phenomenon distinctly, in itself a
sufficient quest for a walk at the
edge of the brook or swamp.

THE STONE SKELETON OF
THE SCOURING-RUSH

fttty 7th

MUST not omit a further, allusion to the
other very interesting structural feature
of our scouring- rushes, particularly as it
explains this popular christening, which
is especially applied to one particular
species — E. hyemale.

The plant consists of a hollow jointed
main stem like the others, but without the circular clus-
ters— whorls — of fringe -like branches, and often grows
to the height of three feet and the diameter of a lead-
pencil. It was from these that our old-time housewives
made the scouring- brushes for their tins and kettles,
already alluded to.

The stems are hollow, and easily separate at the
joints; and if we would satisfy ourselves of the peculiar
property which suggested their use for scouring pur-
poses, we need only draw one of their joints across the
edge of our teeth to be convinced. It is like a file. It

THE STONE SKELETON OF THE SCOURING-RUSH I I I

is, in fact, as much a mineral as a vegetable tube that
we have here, as may be shown by a very pretty chem-
ical experiment.

If we take a small vial of nitric acid and immerse any
ordinary leaf therein, we shall quickly see it dissolve
— literally eaten up by the acid. But what does the
scouring-grass do under such treatment? Immediately
upon its introduction to the acid the sizzling process
begins ; the green pulp of the stem is gradually con-
sumed, the tube, however, still retaining its shape, be-
coming paler and paler in color, until, after a few hours,
our specimen is transformed into a pure white alabas-
ter-like column, which defies any further attack from
the acid. Upon taking it from the vial and washing it
carefully in running water we hold in our hands a beau-
tiful tube of pure glassy flint or silex, and an object of
great microscopic beauty of construction. Our scour-
ing-rush is no longer a vegetable, but a mineral, and,
in its skeleton of stone, we easily understand the secret
of its utility as a scouring -brush.

**>

QUEER FRUITS
FROM THE BEE'S BASKET

July I4th

ONSIEUR COBWEB . . . kill me a
red -hipped bumblebee on the top
of a thistle," says Bottom to the
fairy in Midsummer-Night's Dream.
And Titania urges the fairies to a sim-
ilar warfare against the bees :

"The honey- bags steal from the humblebees,
And, for night -tapers, crop their waxen thighs,"

but Shakespeare gave expression to a very common er-
ror when he implied that these " thighs " of the bee
were laden with wax. The bee, whether the honey-bee
or the humblebee, has two distinct errands in his visits
to the blossoms. " He gathers honey all the day," 'tis
true, but he also plunders the flower of its golden pol-
len at the same time, as we all know, from the plump
" baskets " which we see him carrying as he hies back
to the hive.

But these yellow "saddle-bags" are not "wax," as
Shakespeare implies, nor have they any connection with
the structure of the honey -comb. They are, in truth,

tiny baskets filled with
"bread" for the hungry
bee-babes in the hive.
And a most singular diet
it is that is served to those
young epicures !

Let us catch this busy
bee as it hums by
on its way to the <-
hive. The little "^-^
brush of hairs on
each of its hind
legs is packed solid with
the sticky mass of yellow pow-
der, and a singular record it is
of the life of the little insect that
carries it ! If we dislodge even the
smallest fragment of it, and mois-
ten it in a drop of water upon the
glass of our pocket- microscope,
what an assortment of curious
vegetables! Why, the grocer's or

114 SHARP EYES

fruiterer's display upon the sidewalk is not a circum-
stance to it. There seems to be no limit to the vari-
eties of rare and curious fruits which this busy bee
manages to find in his visits to the flowers. Here are
tiny melons and eggs and pears, prickly oranges, and
decorated marbles, queer tea-boxes, bomb-shells, bricks,
and odd sorts of packages of all kinds.

It is true that this particular bee which we have capt-
ured may have shown a partiality for some special
form of fruit for this one week. Next week he will
give his little ones a change, and again the week follow-
ing, or with a special bill of fare, perhaps, from day to
day. But at any time we are sure to find quite a vari-
ety of choice foreign fruits in his basket. Indeed, are
they not all foreign to most of us? I have pictured a
few, and the reader can decide for himself; and while
he need scarcely expect to find this full assortment in a
single field of his microscope, he is quite likely to find
some of them ; and if not, is certain to see still other
forms of equal strangeness and interest.

Did you ever imagine for a moment what a display
of rare watermelons your fair friend has sported on the
tip of her nose after one close sniff of the meadow-lily?
Look at the microscope slide and be convinced.

In the foreground of my group there is a singular
three -lobed affair which is from the enchanter's night-
shade. A little to the right of this is another trian-
gular shape. Who would ever suppose that this webby
pollen of the twilight primrose was made up of such
particles as these? The generous mountain-laurel gives
us four tiny oranges in a bunch ; for such is the singular
atom which those jumping stamens scatter upon the
soft wings of twilight moths. That curved specimen

QUEER FRUITS FROM THE BEE'S BASKET

with spherical ends is blown by myriads from the blos-
soms of the pine, as is also the funny pepper-box far
above, though you need not expect to find either of
them in our bee's basket, for the wind always takes care
of these. Above this is seen a grain from the garlic
flower, and the spirally grooved sphere of the musk
flower is shown beyond. The prickly form which is
shown at the left is the tiny explosive bomb from the
big melon blossom, blowing oft" one of its caps and dis-
charging its powdery contents; the smooth -banded
prickly specimen at the
centre is a similar prod-
uct of another of the
melon tribe — the com-
mon wild star cucum-
ber, whose clambering
vine screens many a
fence by country lane
or roadside. Between
these melon tokens we
see the pretty many-
sided box which is turn-
ed out by the thousands

from every blossom of the blue chicory, while the square
chest near by is the form of package preferred by the
basella flower. The clover, the daisy, the thistle, the
golden-rod, dandelion, hollyhock, phlox, trailing arbu-
tus, nasturtium, have still other forms; and, indeed,
each separate flower is true to some precious whim in
the shape of its pollen, and among them will be found
an endless variety of forms with all manner of exterior
decoration — bands, checks, spots, reticulations, grooves,
punctures, and other sculptured devices.

I 1 6 SHARP EYES

These atoms are all interesting and beautiful objects
under the microscope, and to the botanist who ex-
amines the bread-basket of the bee they may form a
complete telltale record of the insect's round among the
flowers.

But this golden grist of the bees is not always an un-
mixed blessing. Like its prototype in human affairs it
occasionally reduces its owners to the most complete
slavery. The milk-weed blossom will afford a ready il-
lustration of this, and will well repay a careful exami-
nation. The pollen of this flower is concealed from
view, and is a veritable trap. It does not wait to be
gathered, but clasps the legs of unwary insects, and often
accumulates in such quantity as to prove a serious han-
dicap to the flight of its victim. I have found bees thus
helpless, and a careful search upon almost any cluster
of milk-weed blossoms will disclose some diminutive or
weak insect held prisoner by the pollen which it had
not strength to remove, and thus made a helpless prey
to the first prowling ant that chances its way.

THE SWEEP-NET HARVEST

July 2ist

Y butterfly- net and pocket magnify-
ing-glass are rare companions for
a walk in the country. I have often
had occasion to recommend these
simple means of quiet entertainment on a sultry Au-
gust day beneath the trees, and I would not let my
summer calendar pass without again calling attention
to the sprightly instructive harvest which our sweep-
net may bring us.

What a revealer of the teeming life that peoples the
grasses! One or two trips across this open sunny spot,
with such a light sweep-net skimming the grass-tips
and herbage, will bring in under your shady tree or

, -i

-*"fc

upon your study table a whole
museum of living curiosities suf-
ficient to beguile the entire after-
noon.

Open the netted folds care-
fully. Here are queer green
triangular tree-hoppers,
looking like animated dock-
seeds ; gauzy lace-winged
flies with eyes like sap-
phires and rainbow gleams in
their transparent pale-green wings
— a very fairy of an insect, a delight to the
eye if not to the nostril. Here a slender
spanworm measures off the meshes, and now
emerges a brilliant orange -colored beetle,
with a black cross on its back ; and what a
tribe of grasshoppers of every age
and color, from the brown "high-
elbowed grig," so generous with
its molasses, to the pale-green

THE SWEEP-NET HARVEST I 1 9

tree-cricket, whose shrill song you so abruptly brought
to an end with your stroke of the net ! Here, farther
down, we observe a slight commotion among the an-
imated chaff and grass seed, and a brilliant gem of a
beetle creeps forth, green as an emerald and lit with
ruby reflections, almost the brightest jewel among our
native insects, and whose presence here in the net is
conclusive proof that yonder plant of dog-bane must
have come within the sweep of your net.

The lively procession continues to emerge as you
open the netted folds. Here are spiders of every shape
and size and hue — yellow and brown and green, round
and flat and three-cornered — glittering tinselled flies,
perhaps a leaf -cutting bee, ants and aphides, long-
legged crane-flies, aphis -lions, and jumping "snap-
bugs."

Even the sedimentary accumulation at the bottom of
the net is now seen to be animated with insect life ; the
dust of pollen and withered anthers of the grasses are
alive with agile atoms — tiny creeping soldier- bugs, with
beaks upraised for war, feather-headed gnats, lady -birds
in variety, tiny orange - colored grubs — parasites from
the bodies of the very grasshoppers in your net. Quick !
Turn your glass upon this frail plumy -winged moth
which now creeps from the folds. And now this spry
black midge ; see with what marvellous rapidity it curls
upward the tip of its agile tail, and tucks its buzzing
wings beneath those tiny covers on its back after each
short flight among the meshes — an atom of a rove-
beetle, with the same dexterous trick of the devil's
coach - horse, which I described and pictured a few
weeks ago.

Nor have I named all the surprises in store for you

I2O

SHARP EYES

even from this one " haul " of your net, while each suc-
cessive sweep is sure to bring in its sprightly novelty.
Don't let the summer pass without making the ac-
quaintance of the broods that dwell among the grass.

WHAT THE MIDNIGHT
CAN SHOW US

July sSth

'

S not the midnight like Central
Africa to most of us?" asks Tho-
reau, and not without reason,
for even the best-informed stu-
dent of daylight natural
history may visit his accus-
tomed haunts in the dark-
ness as a pilgrim in a
^ strange land.

Our summer calen-
dar would indeed be incom-
plete without at least one
stroll in the dewy star-
light, for it has a host of
surprises in store for us.

I have already written
two essays giving my ex-
periences and my surprises
and discoveries in the mid-
night woods and meadows,

122 SHARP EYES

and in the present calendar series of papers I will pre-
sent a summary of a few items of especial interest in
the form of a list for ready reference in a lantern stroll,
any item of which is well worth a walk in the dews.

In the pretty pranks of the dew alone we may find
a varied entertainment, for upon careful examination
no two plants will be found to possess the same whims.

The Plantain is drenched and dripping, its parallel-
ribbed leaf and grooved stem feeding the roots all night
long in a tiny runnel of dew.

The Burdock and the Cabbage. — See how the great
glittering drop, " scarce touching where it lies," chases
among the deep courses of the netted veins, gathering
in size as it dances, until it is precipitated either along
the stem or from the edge of the leaf.

Nasturtium ( Tropceoluni). — You will generally find the
leaves all turned edge upward, and they flash with a fine
frost-like sheen.

Horse-tail (Equisetuni). — The reader will remember
the "scouring- rush" of the early settlers, described a
few weeks ago, a plant with jointed hollow stems and
circular fringes of articulated leaves, so common in the
swamps. There are various species of the " horse-tails,"
some of which, like the true " scouring-rush," are al-
most destitute of leafy growth, while others are densely
plumed with curved and drooping whorls of slender
spray. They are pretty enough by day, but in the night
they are transformed to very marvels— fairy fountains
of glittering brilliants, each joint in the thousands of
drooping leaves being set with a diamond. Taken all
in all, with its antique lineage for the geologist, its cu-
rious squirming spores for the microscopist, its gritty
stems for the housewife, its flinty tube for the chemist,

and its dewy revela-
tion for the midnight
poet,who shall hence-
forth tread our Equi-
setum underfoot in
heedlessness ?

The Jewel-weed. —
This is the dewy
night's rarest treas-
ure. It is indeed a
jewel. Upon the ap-
proach of twilight
each leaf droops as
if wilted, and from
the notches along
its edge the crystal
beads begin to grow,
until its border is hung
full with its gems. It
is Aladdin's lantern that
you set among a bed of these
succulent pale-green plants, for
the spectacle is like dream-land.
Gossamers. — Both the perpendicular
and the prostrate webs are beautifully dec-
orated with the dew, and in the night the
spiders seem to have spread the entire
fields with their silk festoons, entirely un-
seen by day. But Titania finds them, and strings them
all with gems.

In the night you cannot be certain of recognizing your
best daylight friends among the flowers, for they take
on all sorts of disguises in their sleep. Here are night

WHAT THE MIDNIGHT CAN SHOW US

notes of the capers of a few plants which
are well worth a visit in the dark hours:

Red Clover. — The two side leaflets are
folded together, and the odd leaflet bowed
over and slightly clasping them. White
clover and many other clovers follow the
same prayerful fashion.

Beggar-ticks (Desmodituti).
— The three leaflets droop
as if broken at their stems,
or even close against each
other, back to back, below.

Bush Clover (Lespedezd*).

— Leaflets all turn upward,
clasping the tall main stem
from base to summit, a com-
plete transformation from
their daytime aspect.

Partridge -pea (Cassia). — Its feather- like
leaves have turned all their leaflets edge
uppermost, and, overlapping each other
closely, have flattened themselves against their main
stem, scarcely distinguishable from the pods.

126 SHARP EYES

Melilot Clover. — The three leaflets turn their edges
uppermost, and two of them close face to face for the
night, the other being left out in the cold.

Lupine. — The wheel -like leaf either closes downward
against the stem at its centre, like a closed umbrella,
or rises in the form of a goblet.

Locust. — Leaflets all droop, even pressing each other
back to back below the main stem.

Pig-weed (Amarantus hybridus). — All sorts of whims.
Leaves turned edge uppermost by a twist in the stem,
or hug the main -stalk of the plant.

Fringed Gentian. — Closes its fringes.

Wild Rose and Mullein. — Flowers closed.

Asters. — In various species the purple rays curl up
into all sorts of cuddles.

Cranesbill. — Flowers closed spirally.

Blue-bottles. — The pretty blue, purple, or white spread-
ing stars of the daytime are now entirely gone ; each
stem holding aloft a perfect shuttlecock, the petals
being raised.

The Ground-nut (Apios tubcrosd) and Wild Bean are
hardly to be recognized in their queer antics. The gar-
den beans too play similar pranks. Those Lima bean
poles of the garden hold a sleepy crowd.

The Catchfly (Silene nutans). — Its white blossoms,
shown in my initial design, gleam in your lantern's rays
in the garden beds. They are opening for the night
moths, but you will hunt in vain for most of them in
to-morrow's sunshine.

Pea. — The blossoms nod and partially close.

Marigold. — Many species close their yellow rays like
a conical tent over the central disk.

Balsams. — Leaves all droop as if wilted.

WHAT THE MIDNIGHT CAN SHOW US I2/

Poppies. — Flowers closed like two clam-shells; inner
petals coiled.

Pushy. — This conspicuous spreading " mean " weed
of the daytime is hard to find, all of its broad thick
leaves being turned with edges upward as it spreads on
the ground.

Wood-sorrel. — The three leaflets droop and close back
to back against the stem.

There are, indeed, probably few plants which do not
put on a night-cap of some sort were our eyes only
sharp enough to detect it.

THE GRASSHOPPER-MIMIC

August 4th

naturalist, Kirby, in describing the
bird known as the " grasshopper- lark"
(Alauda trivialis), claims that it has a
peculiar note which closely imitates the
songs of the grasshoppers or locusts upon which it
feeds ; the inference being that this vocal strain may
be designed by the bird either as a decoy to the insect,
or as a means of approaching it without exciting suspi-
cion. This inference is commonly considered some-
what gratuitous, even though no better reason be as-
signed for the mimic song.

But we have in our own August fields a grasshopper-
mimic which leaves Kirby's bird far behind. So good
a mimic, indeed, that little is known of its song except
as it is credited to the common meadow grasshopper or

\ r

one of its chirping kindred.
For years during my boy-
hood I heard this fine insect-
like strain, and was complete-
ly deceived. It is a peculiarly
August song, and is in such
perfect harmony with the
locust and grasshopper din
which takes possession of the meadows at this season —
the bird-songs having now almost entirely ceased — that
few listeners would ever imagine it to proceed from the
throat of a bird.

We all know the song of the meadow grasshopper,
even if we don't happen to know the formidable book
name of the singer (Orclielinium vitlgarc). Our ears
must be dull indeed not to have recognized the "Zip.
zip, zip, z-e-e-e-e-e-c-e-e /" with the last strain consider-
ably prolonged into a continual roundel sustained by
thousands of tireless minstrels throughout the meadow.
We may hear it anywhere in the fields almost any sun-
ny summer day, but it is especially prevalent in the
vegetation of the swamps. If we steal slyly upon its
source, we may discern the green gauzy- winged min-
strel head downward on the sedge, and with his shrill-
ing taborets vibrating over his back.

Perhaps, however, as we approach the sound the

130

SHARP EYES

song may suddenly cease, while a tiny brown bird flut-
ters out close by, and skimming over the grass tips,
disappears yonder among the herbage, whither the grass-
hopper seems to have suddenly flown unseen, for the
buzzing song is now heard again from the immediate
neighborhood of the bird. A few lessons like this will
soon fix the mimic's song in our minds, and enable us
to detect it even amid the meadow din, for although
a most excellent imitation, it has still a peculiar bird
quality which soon distinguishes it from the
wing music of the " high-elbowed grigs " in
the grass, especially if we learn to identify
their individual
songs.

This little bird
ventriloquist has
doubtless hood-
winked many a ru-
ral naturalist who
thought he knew
all the August bird-
songs, so few and far
between.

We should not let
another August pass
without settling our
score with the little
fellow which the or-
nithologists have
named the "yellow-winged
sparrow." He is about the
size of the "chippy bird," and
yellow wing " is rather misleading

THE GRASSHOPPER-MIMIC 13!

as a distinguishing feature, the yellow being confined
to a small spot upon the shoulder. But, taken with
its song and its brown and white striped head, our
bird maybe readily identified. Hunt him up; he will
give you all the " hide-and-seek " that you will want on
a warm August day.

THE SPICE-BUSH BUGABOO

Augitst nth

HAT a droll secret has that curled
.. leaf on the spice -bush held from
- most of us all these years! A com-
ical, startling secret indeed. We
have passed thousands of these care-
fully folded leaves on the spice and
sassafras bushes summer after summer, and few of us
have dreamed of the surprise it held for us, had we
thought to part the folds and peep within. I am half
inclined to picture only my hanging folded leaf, with-
out giving a hint of the queer welcome we may get from
the interior.

But even to those of us who know just what to ex-
pect, is it not always the same droll surprise? How
impossible is it for us to pass the spice -bush without
exchanging a greeting or two with its sly tenants !

I remember an incident in early boyhood which well
illustrates the peculiar effect which a first discovery of
the spice - bush bugaboo usually excites, and which
proves also how complete is its concealment. I had
gathered a number of the folded leaves from a spice-
bush growing near the front fence of a farm-house.

THE SPICE-BUSH BUGABOO

133

The farmer, a venerable " old inhabitant," came from
his door- way to see what I was after, well knowing
from experience that I was looking for "bugs" of some
sort. When he had approached close to my elbow I
suddenly opened one of the leaves. Had it
contained a viper he could hardly have ap-
peared more excited. "Be conscience' sakes!"
he exclaimed, starting backward
with affright. " I never see sech
a beast. Ef I'd 'a' known I hed
sech wild-lookin', pizen critters
around my door-yard, I'd 'a'
been scar'd to go out o'
nights. Wut be they?" he
continued, pausing a safe
distance up the path ;
" a kind o' snake er
grub, I s'pose."

" It is only'a cater- ^

pillar."

"Waal, naow, wut '11
he make? I s'pose you
know. I sh'd s'pect
suthin' pertickler out o'
critters thet start aout like
thet. Like nun" you'll git
an aowl er suthin' aout on't.
Ugh !"

" Oh, there's nothing to
get scared about," I replied,
smoothing one of the cater-
pillars.

"Ugh! I wouldn't tech the

!

134 SHARP EYES

critter fer a nine-dollar bill !" he exclaimed, as he start-
ed with a shudder that fairly electrified his aged being,
and almost ran back to his cottage door.

To the feminine entomologist the first introduction
to the spice -bush caterpillar is usually quite as demor-
alizing. That blank, unwinking stare of the two big
black eyes is quite threatening, until we discover that it
is all a bugaboo — that they are mere freaks of ornament
on the body of the caterpillar, and not actual eyes.
This caterpillar when full grown is nearly two inches
in length. Its body is of a bright green
with small blue spots, and during the last
week of its growth it changes to a rich
yellow color. The eye spots are black sur-
rounded with buff; and upon a little prov-
ocation the head becomes further orna-
mented with a pair of orange-colored horns,
with the same malodorous peculiarities
which we noted a few weeks ago in the
"parsley caterpillar," to which this spice-
bush specimen is closely allied.

The "yellow" stage of the caterpillar indicates that
its period of transformation is close at hand. Selecting
a suitable situation, either horizontal or perpendicular,
it spins a tiny tuft of silk, into which it entangles its
hindmost pair of feet, after which it forms a V-shaped
loop about the front portion of its body, and hangs thus
suspended, soon changing to a chrysalis of a pale wood-
color. These chrysalides commonly survive the winter,
and in the following June the beautiful "blue swallow-
tail " (Papilio Troihis) will emerge, and may be seen sug-
gestively fluttering and poising about the spice and sas-
safras bushes.

THE EVENING PRIMROSE
BY DAYLIGHT

Augiist nth

AN we really claim to know
our evening primrose? Night
after night, for weeks, its pale
blooms have opened, and shed
abroad their sweet perfume
in the darkness in every glen
and by every road-side; and yet
how few of us have ever stopped to
witness that beautiful impatience of
the swelling bud, the eager bursting of
its bounds, and the magic unfolding of the
crinkly yellow petals?

But it is not to the primrose of the twilight, nor the
opening bud nor fre-sh- perfumed flower, that I would
now invite attention. The sunset primrose we all know ;
it speaks for itself; but how few of us have the slightest
interest in those faded blooms of noon-day hanging like
a chime of bells on the drooping stems ! For twenty-
four hours they may be seen hanging there, and perhaps
for half that time who has guessed their pretty mystery?

.„

./

Go out now in the hot, sunny
noon-time, and stroll among
your withered primroses, and
learn your lesson in humility.

Is this a mere withered, use-
less blossom that droops upon
its stem ? Is it not rather the
prettiest luminous fairy tent that ever
sheltered a day-dream? Last night,
when its four green sepals burst from
their cone, and sprang backward to
release their bright, glossy petals, a
small moth quickly caught the signal, and settled in
quivering contentment, sipping at its throat. Its wings
were of the purest rose- pink, bordered with yellow.

THE EVENING PRIMROSE BY DAYLIGHT 137

All through the night it fluttered among the fresh
opening flowers, one of a countless host of feathery noc-
turnal moths and " millers." But as the sunrise has sto-
len upon these primroses, the fickle broods have all for-
gotten the flowers, and dispersed afar. "All," did I say?
Oh no; not all. Let us turn to our withered blossoms,
and, one by one, look within their bells. Here is one
that falls even at our approach, plainly the blossom of
night before last. We will turn our attention only to
last night's flowers. Here is a bell that appears to have
an extra petal folded within its throat ; and upon open-
ing the folds, we disclose our faithful nursling with pink
and yellow wings ; the earliest twilight sipper, that even
on the approach of dawn is loth to leave the flower, and
creeps into the wilting bloom, where it remains concealed
through the following day, and doubtless occasionally
falls with it to the ground.

In the color of its markings we find an outward ex-
pression of its beautiful sympathy, the yellow margins
of the wings which protrude from the flower being
quite primrose- like, and the pink being reflected in the
rosy hue which the wilting primrose petals so often
assume, especially at the throat.

These pretty moths are by no means rare. A careful
search is quite certain to disclose a number of them.
I once found three upon the same plant. Look, then,
to your daylight primrose.

BEETLE MUSICIANS

August i8tk

—^ . 'HERE is quite a variety of music
to be heard in the great sym-
phony of insect sounds which
fills the summer noon.
We all know the cres-
cendo of the cicada, or
harvest-fly, whizzing its tim-
brel in the trees, and the
buzzing " zip, zip,
* zip, zee-e-e-e " of
the meadow grass-
hopper (OrcJieli-
mum vulgar e) everywhere in
the sunny fields, the " zip, zip,
zip, zip, zip " of its companion,
the comical cone -head grass-
hopper (ConocepJialus ensiger),
to say nothing of the great
orchestra of " high - elbowed
grigs" gently fiddling with
their long hind legs among the

grass blades, their wing covers serving as strings and
their thighs as fiddle bows. This individual fiddle of

BEETLE MUSICIANS 139

the locust (I refer to the flying locust of our fields,
those "grasshoppers" so generous with their "molas-
ses;" these are the true locusts, the insect usually called
"locust" being the cicada] — this individual fiddle of the
locust, then, is an inconspicuous instrument in itself,
being barely distinguishable by the ear without effort,
but in its myriadfold reenforcement it becomes an im-
portant element in the great meadow symphony.

But while the grasshopper and locust tribes are re-
sponsible for most of our meadow music, there are yet
a few minor isolated musicians whose modest strains
we seldom hear, though individually their solos may be
superior to those of their recognized rivals.

In a previous paper I alluded to the mysterious music
of the Antiopa butterfly, and the click- wheel rattle of
the "Coral-wing;" and I now desire to introduce to
the music -loving public a trio of instrumentalists whose
claims are not sufficiently recognized. But on second
thought, perhaps one of my performers is already famil-
iar to most of my readers, if not as a musician, assuredly
as a " horrible creature " and a " horrid bug," that brings
terror and confusion to the peaceful family group as-
sembled around the evening lamp. A low drone just
outside the window announces the visitor, and in a mo-
ment more he is buzzing and bumping about the ceil-
ing, and is soon master of the house, his formidable jaws
insuring him a respectful distance and careful attention.

But if we forego formalities, and unceremoniously lift
our intruder by the nape of his neck, we learn of an ac-
complishment which doubtless explains his overweening
assurance. For, lo ! is he not the " first fiddle " of all
out- doors? "Squeak, squeak, squeak!" is his now in-
cessant refrain. It is well for us if we are content to

listen admiringly and not in-
vestigate, for if our doughty
musician can once fasten his
teeth upon us, he will pun-
ish us severely for the indig-
nity, even parting with his
head, if need be, to prolong
his chastisement.

This musical character will
be recognized by a glance at

his portrait on the oak-leaves. In the classic programme
he is announced as Orthosoma unicolor. He is a mahog-
any-colored creature throughout, about an inch and a
half long, and carries two violins and four fiddle bows,
thus possessing within himself the resources for solo,
duo, trio, or quartette, as his whim may dictate. Shall
we then quarrel with his self-complacency?

His music is produced by the contact of the four

BEETLE MUSICIANS

I

hind legs, chiefly the last pair,
with the edges of the wing cov-
ers. He is the " first fiddle "
of all out -doors. The locust
orchestra follow his lead and
method, but none of them have
inherited such a mahogany Stra-
divarius as he, and are thus left
far behind.

If the Antiopa butterfly has
deceived some observers into
the belief that it has a " voice,"
what shall be said of this con-
cert of quaint singers which I
have pictured on the bough op-
posite, for singers they would
certainly seem to be. There is
no motion of the legs or wings
observable in this group as they
sit there quietly in the sun on
the poplar branch. No fiddling
here. And yet the faint trio of
squeak music is plainly percep-
tible, as they nod continuously
to each other in mutual ap-
proval. I have frequently come
upon such a group, or an occa-
sional isolated individual sun-
ning itself upon the trunk of a
poplar in the woods. The in-
sect is about an inch and a
quarter long, and in its decora-
tion is a decided contrast to the

142 SHARP EYES

fiddlers, being clothed in a nap of mottled gray and
ochre yellow. Unlike most beetles, the head is set
upon the body with the face looking directly in front,
and the expression of that face, with its almond-shaped
black eyes, as it peers around the edge of a twig with
nodding accompaniment, lends a comic element to the
musical performance. This is the Saperda calcarata.
His musical instrument is unique in the insect orches-
tra. It is not a fiddle, nor a click -wheel, nor a drum,
nor a timbrel. It is a musical collar, from which he
literally grinds out the music with the back of his head,
into which it sets as in a socket. At least such seems
to be his method. If not, which of my boy readers will
tell us more about this queer squeak of the Saperda?
Now is the time to find him. Hunt among the poplar
branches.

If we care to search among the golden - rod blossoms
we may find many specimens of another similar musi-
cian, the Painted. Clytus, a beautiful creature nearly an
inch long, banded with yellow and sable, sipping among
the blossoms, and squeaking contentedly at the feast.

AN ECCENTRIC PRECENTOR

August i8th

ORCHESTRA is complete, of
course, without its leader. Even
the "first fiddle" must observe the
baton. And as the insect world
affords us a veritable fiddler and a
harpist, as well as other instrumen-
talists, so too may we find our precentor close at hand,
if our eyes are only sharp enough. This group of sing-
ing beetles upon the poplar branch, I wonder if they
are watching him as they nod their squeaky trio? For
he is close at hand. Even among these very leaves we
are sure to find him with a little search. But if they
are indeed observing him, he must be a decidedly con-
fusing leader, for no two of the bobbing heads are keep-
ing the same time. Ah, here he is! perched upon the
mid-stem of an aspen leaf close by. You have seen him,
perhaps, a hundred times, and all his pompous pride
has been wasted on you, being doubtless mistaken for
a part of a withered or curled leaf. Our precentor is
about an inch and a quarter long. The forepart of his

body is arched upward, like
;.»-* a sphinx. He wears a green
vest and a flat triangular
;;^-'> hat, and a white-bordered brown
mantle decorates his back. And
his baton? No wonder our bee-
tle trio were confused, for our precen-
tor wields two batons. He is a law unto
himself, has no score to fojlow, and, what is more, if
things don't go exactly to suit him, he whips out from
the tips of his batons two long red whip - lashes, and
makes things lively for a few moments.

It is difficult to understand the many impetuous an-
tics of our eccentric precentor — squirming from side to
side, circling his double baton about his head as with a
hurrah, snapping his whip on right and left without
rhyme or reason. Yes, as a precentor it is difficult to
understand his doings. But when we return to reason,

AN ECCENTRIC PRECENTOR 145

and remember that he is only an important puss-moth
caterpillar, it is not half so mysterious. If we watch
and wait for a moment or two we shall doubtless wit-
ness a return of that buzzing fly — a parasite, perhaps —
that has just been tickling him.

The puss- moth caterpillar is quite common upon
young aspens, and will be readily recognized from my
portrait. It is an amusing insect, and, so far as I have
seen, those peculiar rosy whip -lashes concealed within
the forked tail, to be used when occasion demands, are
not described in the popular works on natural history.

Jg

THE EXPLOSIVE

CLUB-MOSSES

*i

August 25 /h a

F we ask our apothecary for five cents' I
worth of lycopodium, he will proceed V
to pour out from a glass jar into the
scales a half -ounce or more of a light ochre yellow
powder. The same powder is also to be obtained in

THE EXPLOSIVE CLUB-MOSSES 147

its tiny vial among the regular list of homoeopathic
remedies. Outside of the drug-store, however, few of us
have ever seen it ; rather, I should say, few of us have
ever seen it to recognize it, even though we may have
breathed it into our lungs in the woods, or brushed it
from our clothing in clouds, under the impression that
the dusty soil was alone responsible for our soiled gar-
ments.

" What do you use it for?" I recently asked an apoth-
ecary.

" We keep it to put in pill -boxes with the pills," was
his reply; "that is all we use it for. Powdered lico-
rice is also used for the same purpose, but the lycopo-
dium is preferable."

But there is much of interest to be found in this yel-
low powder which is not generally known. Nor need
we visit the druggist's to get our sample for experiment.
What, then, is this drug, lycopodium ? Our botany will
enlighten us : " Lycopodium, a cryptogamous plant, com-
monly known as 'club -moss,' a low evergreen some-
what resembling a moss, its stems clothed with short
pointed scaly leaves, the fruiting stems discharging their
subtle spores in the form of a copious sulphur -colored
inflammable powder."

So, in substance, says Dr. Gray, and though the com-
bustible nature of this yellow cloud is published to the
world in nearly all our botanies, it is a singular fact that
comparatively few of those who know the plant in all its
many varieties, who perhaps have named it with its
Latin tag, and who have pressed it and mounted it in
their herbarium, have known its singular explosive prop-
erties and the fiery tricks it is capable of performing.
Country people everywhere, even though innocent of

botany, will certainly
recall the well-known
"ground-pine," which
carpets the winter
woods in its fan-
shaped green foliage,
and which is such a
favorite for Christmas wreaths and decoration in general.
This is the most familiar form of the lycopodium (L.
dendroideuni), but there are others equally common in
our woods, some assuming the form of miniature branch-
ing pine-trees, or trees resembling closely tufted mosses,
but all, at one season or another, lifting their catkin-like
fruiting spore fronds, and shedding in the breeze their
smoky yellow clouds. Certain of these species are now
fruiting in the woods, and we have only to find them to
obtain our generous supply of this same yellow powder
of the pharmacy.

Where the plant grows abundantly these spore stems
rise in profusion among the leaves, and as we walk
through them our shoes and nether garments are soon
covered with the yellow dust. With a little care each

THE EXPLOSIVE CLUB-MOSSES 149

separate catkin, by a gentle bend and shake, may be
made to pour its dry grist into a box held beneath it,
and several ounces of the powder may be thus gathered
in a few moments. A little of this powder poured upon
the flame of a match or candle will demonstrate its in-
flammable qualities, exploding with a brilliant lightning-
like flash. A few of the stems picked when immature
and allowed to dry in the house will produce the same
flash when shaken above the flame.

In earlier times, and even to-day, for aught I know,
this same powder was in great demand behind the scenes
at the theatre, where, in association with the terrific din
of the rolling balls and the crash of the enormous sheet
of tin, it did brilliant duty in the mimic thunder-storm.

In their natural destiny these floating spores are car-
ried to the ends of the earth by the winds, to say nothing
of an occasional artificial journey towards the stars as
they are borne aloft in the rocket, and light the zenith
in their glare. I have discovered that the pollen of the
pine blossoms has similar inflammable properties to the
lycopodium.

SEED TRAMPS

V September ist

N his charming volume Wake-Robin Mr.
Burroughs has felicitiously alluded to
the weeds as the " tramps of the vege-
table world." "They are going east, west, north,
south," he says ; " they walk, they fly, they swim,
they steal a ride ; they travel by rail, by flood,
by wind ; they go under ground and they go
above, across lots and by the highway. But, like
other tramps, they find it safest by the highway.
In the fields they are intercepted and cut off, but
on the public road every boy, every passing herd
of sheep or cows, gives them a lift."

SEED TRAMPS 15!

It is to this class of restless vagabonds that I would
now direct attention, and what a precious lot of tramps
they are! Foreign immigrants almost without excep-
tion, by hook and by crook, by fair means and foul,
they have travelled from the ends of the earth, until
now they are always and forever with us, lording it
over every copse and wood. Do we seek our garden
for a quiet evening stroll, they present their unwelcome
compliments. Do we stoop to drink at the way-side
water-trough, they thrust their cards upon us, and not
content with a mere recognition, even plaster us with a
whole pack of them.

But the woods are their stronghold. There they
have us at their mercy — lay in wait for us, hedge us
about, and intimidate us, until we return from our walk
in helpless chagrin, decorated with their advertising tags
from head to foot, champions against our will of their
whole shady fraternity. What a representative rogues'
gallery do we often bring home with us on our nether
costume or even upon our coat -sleeve! Sly brigands,
whose presence in the woods we had never suspected
did we not here see their unimpeachable cartes de visite.

We may know little enough of botany, scarcely
enough, perhaps, to serve us in giving a wide berth to
the poisonous plants that have often made us suffer; but
there is at least one interesting botanical family whose
familiar forms we have been forced to study with pa-
tience— the burrs and beggar- ticks, the stick-seeds,
Spanish-needles, and "pitchforks." We know them all,
and recognize the same old persistent tokens from year
to year, yet how few of us catch them in the act of as-
sault !

One or two, like the group that flanks my highway

152

SHARP EYES

on the left with a " qui va /&/" yearning for a
jab at the humble craft in the background,
are familiar to us even in their haunts. But
here is an odd assemblage upon the skirt of
our coat, the hangers-on of every wood and
copse, and many of them I am certain the
"oldest inhabitant" has never seen
except as he picks them from his

.,.-.,

clothing day af-
ter day with vigorous
comment.

There are those queer, flat,
green, jointed affairs, for instance,
that stick closer than a brother, either in de-
tached pieces or plastered in strings and bro-
ken chains in all sorts of devices. What was
their history ere they fell from grace? There
is a whole troop of them which are popularly stigma-
tized as " ticks," and commonly supposed to be mem-
bers of the same chain-gang. But this is not so ; there

SEED TRAMPS 153

are at least a half-dozen different countenances to be
found among them, and a little study will soon enable
us to assort the several distinct types. I will not at-
tempt to ; they are all sinners, and mostly black sheep
from promising and comely ancestors.

In the botany this group may be found under the
title Dcsmodium, a name derived from a Greek word
meaning a bond or chain, the seeds being arranged in
links, as it were, each a tiny pod covered with minute
hooks and containing a single seed. I have shown here
four distinct forms of the pods, from either of which a
botanist could readily bring to mind the pretty pink
parent pea- blossomed flower of the woods. The low-
est of them, rounded above and below, is the Desmo-
dium Canadense. The jointed pair above, D. panicula-
tum, the single triangle, D. nudiflorum, and the upper
trio, D. accuminatum. Turning our attention to the
"pitchforks," Bidens (two- teethed), we have also a va-
riety of styles, from the four-tined Bidens cernua at the
right to the B. frondosa near it, and the slender Span-
ish-needle above, B. bipinnata, the three -pronged indi-
vidual on the left being the seed of B. connata. Each
of these groups belongs to an individual family — the
first to the Bean family, the second to the Composite.

One of the most persistent and tenacious of all these
wild "beggars" is shown in the upper part of the group.
As we pick him out of the puckers he has gathered
about himself in our garments he appears less than a
fifth of an inch in diameter, unless, indeed, he has mul-
tiplied himself into four smaller sections, an odd trick
which he generally resorts to. One of these sad -iron-
shaped pieces is shown below. It is armed, not with
hooks like the many clinging seeds, but with veritable

arrow-headed
spears, which,
when once anchor-
ed, reach deeper and deep-
er with every movement,
and embed themselves closely into
whatever fabric they take a fancy to.

They are the " beggar -lice " of the botany,
and hang in a pretty row upon the graceful par-
ent blossom stem, following a spray of tiny pale-
blue blossoms.

Another burr with a similar trick of multiplication is
shown at the left below, splitting in half like two spring-
backed turtles with curved tails. This is the fruit of
the Sanicle Marilandica, a common plant in open woods.
A very frequent offender is the twin seed of the cleav-
ers, or goose-grass, Galium, round and beset with slen-
der hooks ; there are a number of species, and if you
occasionally chance upon a cluster of similar specimens
among them, only of a distinct pear shape beneath the
hooks, you may rest assured that you have visited the
haunts of the enchanters night-shade as well as the
cleavers. But the prettiest and most shapely of all the
burrs upon our coat-sleeve is the nodding urn of the
agrimony, its lower rim circled with a stiff array of
hooks, and whose slender spires of green fruit may be

SEED TRAMPS 155

seen all summer, tapered off at the summit with their
bright golden blossoms.

We all know the tenacious burdock and the cockles
and clot-burrs, the most formidable of their kind among
our native burrs ; and he who has come into contact
with the enterprising barbed spines of the sly " hedge-
hog" caltrop — as he reclined for comfort on the sand
of the sea-shore, has probably speedily arisen to express
his full recognition of their prior right to the premises.
One of these vile burrs is shown on page 274, the sin-
gular fruit of the Cenchrus, an anomaly among the tribe
of grasses.

A QUEER "SPIDER'S NEST

September 8th

BOUT two summers ago a lady
brought me a natural history
specimen which was something
of a puzzle to her and the rest
of her household.

" I have brought you a queer spi-
der's nest," said she. " I suppose you
have seen lots of them, but I never saw one like it be-
fore. It fell from the folds of a silk dress, which I was
taking from the closet, and broke, but I gathered up
the pieces and the spiders, which all seemed to have
been killed by the fall, and here are the fragments."

I opened the handkerchief in which the nest was
brought, and disclosed what appeared to be an irregular
lump of mud. One side of it bore a perfect cast of the
silk gros-grain fabric — a perfect mould, easily identified
as from silk. The broken portion disclosed a smooth
cavity with a few spiders, apparently dead, within it,
and, with the number of others to be seen in the debris,
showing that the cell had originally contained no less
than sixteen spiders, varying in size, but all of the same

A QUEER "SPIDER'S NEST"

157

species. The lump of mud contained two other cells,
each of which was similarly packed with the spiders,
one of them yielding seventeen individuals. All of
them were in the same limp and lifeless condition.

But a closer examination of the mass revealed the
secret of our queer spider nest. After a moment's
search I brought to light in one of the cells a tiny egg,
and in the second a small white grub in the act of
finishing a meal from the mutilated remains of the
spiders.

"It is perfectly plain, don't you see," said I, "that
this plump larva, and not the spider, is the real lord
of the manor, and that
all the spider prisoners
were to have been
eaten."

" Yes," said my
friend ; " but how

158

SHARP EYES

did the spiders get there? Have they deliberately pack-
ed themselves here in this old wasp nest to be eaten up?n
" Ah, then, you knew it was a wasp nest, did you ?"
"Why, of course," she replied. "It didn't occur to
me at first, but I have often seen the same sort of mud
.-•fr^A-..^ nests on the beams of my garret ;

'*lty? *." but never heard of the old ones

V^x/<^ ^fcJiU being used by spiders. And

then the spiders are
all dead, and are not
like any spiders that
I have ever seen ; and
then there is that lit-
tle worm and all. I
"•>> don't understand

the thing a bit."

" Do you know
what sort of a wasp
it is that builds that
mud nest ?" I asked.
" I don't know his name; but I know he
is deep-blue, and has a very slender waist.

I see them buzzing

around my garret every day."

" And it has never occurred to you what that nest
was built for?"

" Why, certainly," she replied ; " the young wasps are
raised in it. I understand all that ; but it is those spi-
ders that puzzle me, for this nest is all closed up tight
with mud, and there is no sign of a wasp to be seen,
and he could not get into it if he wanted to."

"And what do you imagine that blue wasp has been
doing all these weeks while buzzing around your garret
rafters?" I inquired.

" Feeding its young ones in the nest, I suppose."

"And where are the young ones?" I asked.

" They have probably grown up and flown away by
this time. But what has that to do with these spiders?

l6o SHARP EYES

I understand about the wasps, but the spiders are what
I want you to tell me about."

My friend knew the wasp- nest and the "deep-blue
slender- waisted wasp" in her garret, but the trouble
was that her acquaintance with the insect did not go
beyond the garret window.

Had she followed our "mud-dauber" or mason wasp
as it flew abroad in its busy mission for that clay nest
the mystery of the spiders would soon have been re-
vealed. Out across the road it flew, and was soon buzz-
ing over the rowen-field near by, which at this season is
glistening with the beautiful upright web wheels of the
satin -backed Argiope, a pretty spider, now about half
grown, with its body banded in stripes of gray and yel-
low. This nest, the doom of so many insects even larger
than itself, knows no terrors to the mud -dauber. In a
twinkling the glistening spider is seized, even in its lair,
or, frightened thither, captured after a hunt among the
leaves. It is quickly stung into submission by the
wasp, and thus drugged into a stupor, as it were, though
otherwise unharmed, is carried straight to that garret
mud nest.

Another and another trip is made to the rowen-field,
with like results, until the mud cell is at length packed
to the brim with the spiders. This done, the wasp lays
an egg among them and immediately seals the opening
with mud, and leaves the care of the prisoners to a
deputy that is fully equal to the responsibility.

One by one they fall a victim to the growing grub
within, their number having been nicely calculated as a
larder to carry him to his full growth. If we open one
of these cells two months hence we shall find a few
remnant spider legs as the only hint of the original

A QUEER " SPIDER'S NEST" 161

"spider nest, "while the cavity is now filled with a filmy
brown cocoon, containing perhaps a plump white larva,
perhaps a pupa, or maybe a steel-blue slender-waisted
wasp just making its exit, and fully prepared to tell you
all about spiders, if you will only listen to its hum with
proper understanding.

So then our " dead spiders " are not dead after all.
A very little provocation in the way of a rude touch or
jostle of any one of them will cause a perceptible tre-
mor of the legs even after weeks of confinement within
the sealed mud chamber. A wonderful provision of
nature is this potent sting of the parent wasp to insure
a supply of fresh living food for its young until the
completion of its growth.

Many varieties of spiders are packed within these
nests through the season. The earlier nests are usually
filled with the half -grown specimens of the beautiful
black and yellow Argiope, which is the species shown in
our illustration.

The common house-spider is a favorite prey in the
summer months, while in the late autumn the banded
Argiope seems to be the principal attraction. The Sep-
tember nests in this locality are usually packed full with
this species.

THE TALKING FLY

September i^th

OT once but a half-dozen times has this com-
ical-looking fly made game of me in my
walks. It needs only a single glance at the
specimen .to see that something out of the
ordinary run of things might be expected
from him. The first time he experimented
on me I well remember. I was sitting beneath a hazel-
bush in the shadow of a stone-wall, examining some flow-
ers which I had just gathered. For a matter of five min-
utes while thus employed I was carelessly conscious of
voices somewhere in the remote neighborhood on the
other side of the wall. The tone suggested a masculine
source, and at one moment seemed to take the form of
a soliloquy, and then of an interrupted dialogue, now
suggesting a long-drawn nasal exclamation which pict-
ured to my mind a Coriolanus in the far distance "driv-
ing his oxen by sheer force of his lungs," " Ha-a-aw-\v-w !"
with a falling inflection, and again a yell across the

THE TALKING FLY

meadow, "Sa-ay! Fra-a-ank!
Waou !" or perhaps a brief nasal
interchange of seasonable com-
ment about crops or weather.
All these pretty pastoral visions
hovered in my fancy between my
botany glass and my flowers,
carelessly, as I have said, and
would have vanished like a
dream had not a little inci-
dent served to revive them,
and forever frame them
in my memory.

My flower identified,
I prepared to re-
sume my walk,

aft*

'--* >- ^

164 SHARP EYES

when my attention was claimed by a curious visitor,
which had suddenly perched upon a head of tear-thumb
blossoms close at my elbow, ogling me most mischiev-
ously.

I had seen portraits of this black- sheep in the rogues'
gallery of insects, but was never brought into such close
quarters with the original before. I soon identified
him, and knowing that in my superior fighting weight I
would be perfectly safe in tackling him, I prepared to
catch him with a sweep of my hand, when away he
went with a " Ba-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a !" which seemed drawn
out in a long nasal perspective to the limit of my hear-
ing, and the inspiration of my pastoral visions was sud-
denly revealed.

On several occasions since I have been momentarily
deceived by the twanging buzz of the big fly. It is im-
possible to suggest in type the peculiar quality of the
sound, but a glance at my portrait of him will serve to
identify the insect, and he may be heard tuning up any
day now in our meadows, as indeed he might have been
for several weeks past, and may be for several to come.
He is closely related to the murderous mock bumblebee
described in a later page.

AN UNDERGROUND FRUIT

September I5th

N a former botanical chapter I called attention
to some common plants which have kept a
few secrets from most of us. And there is
still another which I forgot to mention, or
perhaps concluded to postpone to its more
appropriate season. We may see it now everywhere
in our walks, clambering over fence and shrub, and
lending its graceful foliage and drooping pinky-white
blossoms to many a homely weed which ought to be
glad enough for the borrowed adornment. Here is a
nook in the woods where the ground is screened be-
neath its delicate threefold leaves, while an ascending
spray has twined to the summit of a neighboring golden-
rod, perhaps, with long tendril -like tips reaching out for
new opportunities.

It is the delicate "wild bean;" and if the threefold
leaf and long raceme of pale drooping blossoms do
not at once suggest the name, a little further search will
disclose the telltale cluster of flat pods, like tiny Limas
hanging among the leaves.

But the botany, we find, has still another christening

in store for the delicate
vine — " the hog pea-nut "
— an inelegant name of
no possible significance,
unless it be that the hog,
from his well-known
rooting propensities,
is most likely to
discover its secret.
The Greek sci-
entific title is more

to the point — AmpJiicar-
pcea, which signifies "seed at
both ends." We have already
seen the pods at its upper end. What
shall we find at the other? If we care-
fully uproot the soil, the " pea-nut" is soon
disclosed — a small one-seeded rounded

AN UNDERGROUND FRUIT

1 67

pod, pallid, and beset with fine brown hairs, and which
not one person in a thousand of those who know this
common plant has ever seen. These are the seeds that
plant the soil for next year's vines, and are the fruits
of queer little underground blossoms, bearing no more
resemblance to those at the "other end" than is seen
in the pods.

A BUTTERFLY BOWER

September 22d

OMEWHERE among my books a wistful
poet sings,

"I'd be a butterfly born in a bower."

Now I don't know that it is the habit of
butterflies in general to be born in bow-
ers any more than anywhere else — under
a cabbage-leaf, or a fence-rail, or stone, or
dried leaf, for instance. But I am going
to give my poet the fullest justice in assuming that
he meant to imply that he would prefer to be the
"Hunter's" butterfly to any other in creation; for in
this insect we have in truth the one butterfly that is
literally " born in a bower."

Its bower is composed of petals and other parts of
flowers, and hangs among the blossoms 'of the common
everlasting (Gnaphalium decurrens}. It is occasionally
almost concealed among the flowers, but may often be
found quite conspicuously displayed, and three to four
inches in length.

If we take a walk in the grassy road, in the pasture
lot, or mountain path, we may now find dozens of them.

Yonder is a clump
of the everlasting
among the sweet -fern.
It is white with blossoms,
and some of them seem
fraying out in the wind.
Our bower-builder is cer-
\ tainly there ; perhaps a

dozen of them. Ah, yes;
here is our bower dan-
gling from the top of the stem,
*and blowing in the breeze.

It is compactly woven with silk and petals, and within
we find — what ? Most probably a pretty maroon and
yellow banded spiny caterpillar an inch and a half long,
spotted boldly with white, and perhaps a wonderful
pendent jewel of a chrysalis, apparently of green bur-
nished bronze with rainbow films and golden reflections,
or perhaps only a dull drab affair; but any one of them
will give forth the same beautiful butterfly, with its
orange and black and rose-colored wings.

BALLOONING SEEDS

September 22d

N a previous chapter I discussed the ways of the
" vagabond '' seeds, the burrs and " pitchforks," and
the " beggars' ticks," with their singular devices for
stealing their way around the world. In decided
contrast to these ingenious waifs so dependent upon
circumstance are their airy winged companions, and
what an endless variety of these buoyant feathered
seeds are now flying to the ends of the earth on every
breeze !

Beginning with the plumy willow and poplar cotton
of May that covered the surface of the streams and
washed in downy drift -rows on the muddy banks, each
successive month has sent its swarms of winged seeds
upon their wanderings, and though most of these early
broods have found their rest, and are even now, as in
our willow, firmly rooted and established for the future,
we may still see an occasional restless vernal specimen
on its travels.

The dandelion balls followed the willows in the last
of May and June, and launched their myriads of feath-
ered parachutes, one of the prettiest of all their tribe.

We all know this common type of the winged seed,
but how little do we know of the companions that

BALLOONING SEEDS

171

it meets in its travels, some of which are
even more beautiful in design.

Every cobweb will show us a few of
them, and I have seen a single autumn

gossamer that offered an assort-
ment of eight distinct forms,
mostly from the great order of
Composite, the very children of
the breeze. The thistle is N

a familiar example. <?f*£j

' - -^.r

-*•'

.

A long chapter might u.4
be written on the pecu-
liarities and habits of winged
seeds, the evident intention
expressed in their special designs
/ both in their wings and bodies, and
\ their significance to the botanist, but
I shall have served my present pur-
pose if I awaken the interest of the reader
by briefly calling attention to a few of

172 SHARP EYES

the more characteristic forms which are now floating
about us with more or less frequency in our autumn
walks. I have pictured a fanciful eddy wafting aloft
such a winged swarm, and, considered simply as designs
in the abstract, how interesting they are !

The lower member of the group might at first glance
be taken for a dandelion seed, but if seen in its natural
state no such mistake would be possible, for this para-
chute is the largest and one of the rarest of our balloon-
ing seeds, being the fruit of the oyster-plant, a species
having escaped from gardens, but now becoming natu-
ralized. The total length of the seed is shown natural
size, and it appears a giant by the side of the dandelion,
its winged disk measuring an inch in diameter. The
feathered rays, perfectly flat when at rest, suggest a
diminutive spider web.

The form close behind this is the tiny shuttlecock- of
the Galinsoga, a weed which I have found more com-
monly in city yards than elsewhere, each seed being sur-
mounted with a jagged silvery white star, so appearing
when viewed from above, but in the wind assuming the
shape shown. The milk-weed and the dandelion are
seen immediately over this, with the long feathery tail
of the clematis in the background.

In all of these specimens the flying apparatus has
been of a simple character, the seeds contenting them-
selves with uniform plumes. But here we have an in-
dividual which sports a double assortment of wings, a
ring of round white scales alternating with long needle-
pointed awns. It is the pretty star-shaped pappus of
the dwarf dandelion (Krigia), whose small yellow flat
flower is followed by a silvery ball of these seeds quite
as pretty as the blossom.

The purple iron-weed of the swamps (Ve-
ronia) lets loose a downy fledgling with a
row of teeth and a tuft of down for the
breeze. The wild lettuce sends out its thou-
sands of flat black tokens, each with a slen-
der bristle tufted at the summit, while a
similar plant, the blue lettuce, sees no ad-
vantage in this long appendage,
but attaches its wings to a tiny
disk at the summit of the fruit,
a fact which the young

botanist appreciates, for

^ ^M^^>^: -.

^m4$

•v

this one pe-
culiarity is suf-
ficient to distin-
guish the plant
from its otherwise
puzzling neighbor.
The aster, cat-tail, and
golden -rod are seen
beyond these seeds.
And I might follow
on in a wide field for
investigation among
the numberless forms
that have sailed out of my
picture, but are everywhere
to be found in the fields.

174 SHARP EYES

Any consideration of winged seeds from the young
people's stand-point would be incomplete without men-
tion of those glistening, fluffy, fairy globes which deft
feminine fingers fashion from the ripening heads of the
thistle and bursting milk- weed pods by tying the com-
pact pappus with thread and drying in the sun.

But now in September we may find a plant that fur-
nishes its fairy wares even without the aid of fingers,
real brownie dust-brushes by the million, which house-
hold fairies find ready for use by the simple addition
of a pin for a handle. It is the glistening white puff
of the groundsel shrub (Baccharis), to be found every-
where along our coast from now until winter.

WOULD'ST THOU SEE?

HE seeing eie is the soul 's mysterie which no man
divinetb, the mortal eie sufficeth for the windowe
thereof through which it looketh out. Neither is
there sight without quietnesse and constancie.
Nor shall ye see hither while thy bearte is yon. Would 'st
thou see .? Loohe then to thy present concerne, and heede
not distraction, for thus only shall thy windowe avail thee
and thy prospect yield greetinge. Mark how thy mortal eie
doth give thy minde ensample, for is not thine eie constant
to but one the while ? Be thou so, and behold thy windowe
shall be the blest interpreter of visions and revelations.

THE FAIRY RING

September 2Qth

EAR after year, perhaps, we see the ''fairy
ring" of small fawn-colored mushrooms
out upon our lawn. As we first remem-
bered it, it was but a foot or so in diam-
eter, and closely clustered, while with each
successive crop it has spread into a more
widely scattered circle, until it is now several feet in
area. Who planted the seed in this fantastic form, and
why does this particular species especially favor the
circle or the crescent in its method of growth? These
are questions which naturally occur to any one who has
seen the singular phenomenon.

The freak well illustrates the peculiar conditions of
vegetation of the whole fungous tribe. These plants
have no seed, but are perpetuated by the aid of myriads
of dust-like spores. This is well seen in the puff-ball,
whose smoke-like puffs scatter their countless atoms to
the ends of the earth. Though they may fall in a mill-
ion places, no spore will vegetate into a plant unless
the conditions which the puff-ball requires are present
in the soil.

In the fairy-ring mushroom, as in all other mush-
rooms, the rule is the same ; the spores are shed from
beneath the cap, and many fall upon the ground. We

1 78

SHARP EYES

will suppose a single spore to have been blown by the
wind to the spot upon the lawn. A single mushroom
or group is soon seen. Its spores are scattered beneath
it. The earth immediately around the stem has been
exhausted of the chemical necessities for new growth,
and only such spores as have fallen in the outer edge
of the circle will find the congenial conditions for vege-
tation, leaving the centre bare of growth. And thus
the ring enlarges as the interior soil is exhausted, until
it occasionally reaches the diameter of several feet in a
more or less broken circle.

A QUEER "BUMBLEBEE"

September 2gth

HE following portion of a letter
from a Connecticut farmer, village
philosopher, oldest inhabitant,
weather prophet, and phonetic
expert, is reproduced by willing
permission, and is herewith an-
swered for the first time. It ac-
companied a package by mail con-
taining the specimen in question.

'Mr. Gibson :

" SIR,— in the summer of wen you was bordin with me

here at the farm you hed a gret laugh at me becuz I sed I seen a
bumble bee ketch a hoss-fly and eat him up. ... I haint fergot
how you tuk on about it and I recoleck thet you sed I better
make a note on't an swar to it before a notry cuz I wud never see
the like agen in mi born days, and you sed thet you wud give me
the first nine dollar bill you come acrost if I wud kill the critter
in the ack next time and thet you would give me a gold plated
goose-yoke and I dont kno what all and thet you wud give me a
two dollar bill fer every bumble bee I wud send ye with a hoss-
fly in his teeth. Likenuff you hev fergoten this last part but I
haint. I sed be you in arnest and you sed you was. So here I be
stickin to the letter on't and seein how ded sartin you was thet I
was coddin, I am glad to be even with ye.

180 SHARP EYES

" I hev been waitin a long while but luck hez give me another
chance. I send by mail in a match box a bumble bee which I
ketched last evening. I seen him buzzin around fer a spell while
I was tnilkin and putty soon he pitched on to a fly on the barn
door and took him to a catnip bush and wus eatin him wen I
give him a rap with my hat and ketched him. The fly aint a
hoss-fly, pleg on it, and so I spose youl back out of your bargin
but it doos jest soot me pooty slick to think how youl hev to eat
crow wen you see the bumble bee with the fly in his mouth killed
in the ack as you sed. Larnin is a vallable thing no doubt but it
aint got no show agin experiens."

The " bumblebee " was received in good condition,
and I have endeavored to picture the same in the act
of pursuit of his prey, and as he appeared in his last se-
rene moments when viewing the pastoral landscape
from the catnip-bush, with my friend milking in the
foreground. I thank my correspondent for the kind in-
formation contained in his letter, and assure him that I
shall not let that little horse-fly technicality stand be-
tween him and his nine-dollar bill and gold-plated
goose -yoke. I know his "bumblebee" very well. No
doubt it captured the fly as described. But did it oc-
cur to my friend that he had possibly overlooked some
important facts in his eagerness to get that goose-yoke?
It is a strange thing, for instance, that when our bum-
blebee concludes to dine on horse-flies instead of hon-
ey, he should suddenly contrive to get rid of one pair of
wings! We will say nothing of other lightning changes
that must have taken place in the insect's being, for
this one transformation is sufficient. If he will catch
the next bumblebee he sees upon a red-clover blossom
he will find that it has four wings, while this horse-fly
specimen which he has sent has but two. No, I will

A QUEER "BUMBLEBEE"

181

not " back out " from my bargain, but, on the contrary,
I am prepared to redouble my cash inducements for
every normal two-winged bee of any kind that he or
any one else will send me.

What, then, is our mock bumblebee ? It is, in truth,
no bee at all, but a rapacious robber fly, which nature
for some reason has wonderfully disguised as a bumble-
bee. It hovers in the flowery haunts of bees, and, safe
in its disguise, makes havoc
among the unsuspecting small
fry among the insects, or even
among many nearly as large as
itself, clutching them with its
strong legs, and quickly finish-
ing them with its strong blood-

1 82

SHARP EYES

sucking proboscis. Only last summer, while sketching,
I observed one of these murderous flies hovering about
me, with a huge bot-fly impaled on its horny beak.

I beg to introduce to my Connecticut friend the
LapJiria fly, warranted to bring confusion to horse-flies
and rural authorities in natural history.

HOW TO HANDLE A WASP

September 2Qth

AT nerve you must have !" said a
companion stroller to me recently,
as I caught in my hand one com-
mon brown wasp after another and
twirled it in my fingers ; " what nerve ! for I know, of
course, that they must all have stung you, only you
won't admit it.

"Could I do it?" he continued, in reply to my ques-
tion. "Why, of course I could do it, only I am not
such a fool !"

In vain I assured him that the insects were harmless;
in vain urged him to clutch a small swarm which
crawled upon the fence close by. But prejudice is a
difficult obstacle, especially in matters of this kind, and
I was obliged to caress my wasps alone.

" It is all in the way you do it," I observed, as I
picked up two at once from the summit of a golden-
rod, and rolled them into one waspy jumble between
my fingers, and then let them loose upon the wing,
none the worse bodily, even though somewhat richer
in experience.

At length, after much persuasion, my friend's credu-

lity was overcome to the point

of trial, and he grasped his ^^

wasp with true heroism, holding

his breath meanwhile, and bringing all his hypnotic

power, as he said, to bear upon the victim, and to this

alone he attributed his escape from the insect's sting;

for he handled it without the slightest harm.

" You are right," he said ; " it is all in the way you
do it."

But his next essay was not so conspicuous a success,
and I express it but mildly when I say that he has done
with this sort of amusement for all time.

There is, in truth, a right way and a wrong way in
the handling of a wasp. I read a few winters ago what
was considered a surprising statement, in a Boston
newspaper, that a " boy caught a butterfly at South
End yesterday, in midwinter;" in commenting upon
which a New York natural -history editor sententiously
remarked, " It may be all right to catch a butterfly at
'South End] but when you grab a wasp it is safer to
take him at the north end."

But this is not my secret. There is a knack about

HOW TO HANDLE A WASP

i85

handling a wasp, I confess, but it can be mastered by
any one, and I give the secret for the benefit of the
tyro naturalist, who may not be on such intimate terms
with his wasp neighbors. The safest season for experi-
ment is in September. You are now certain to find
your wasps in numbers upon the golden- rods just
emerged from their paper cells beneath the eaves or
fences. Creep up slyly, hold your open palm within a
foot of the insect, and murmur to your inmost self the
following brief sentiment,

"Polistes ! Polistes ! bifrons ! proponito faciem /"

and wait until the insect turns towards you, which it is
more or less certain to do ; then, with a quick clutch,
grasp your prize. It is not necessary to hold your
breath or wet your fingers, as is com-
monly supposed ; the above classic
charm will work quite as well without.
After holding the insect in the hollow
of your hand for a moment, take him
boldly between your fin-
gers, roll him, pull him,
squeeze him, and twirl
him as you will ; no
amount of abuse will in

1 86

SHARP EYES

duce him to sting. Perfect faith in the above will en-
able any one to handle a wasp with impunity.

P. S. — I almost forgot to mention that it is always
safest to experiment with ^white-faced wasps, as these
are drones, and have no sting.

;•

THE WONDERFUL FUNGUS TRIBE

October 6th

|NE of the eminent authorities on fungi, Fries,
has estimated that the spores in a single
puff-ball may reach a total of ten millions.
Under favorable conditions of growth their
yield would cover an area of two square
miles. Thousands upon thousands of puff-balls are sow-
ing their brown spore smoke upon every autumn breeze,
and millions of other fungous growths — toadstools,
mushrooms, etc. — are also adding their myriads. Did
the reader ever stop to think what infinite potentialities
were borne in the cloud of dust that obscures the land-
scape just before a storm?

At first glance Nature would seem to be needlessly
prodigal of her means towards the perpetuation of these
singular and omnipresent plants. But her generosity is
the result of deep design. She knows full well that not
one in thousands of these floating atoms will ever veg-
etate. And yet they would seem to be common enough.
A single short walk in the woods almost anywhere will
show us a whole museum of them, for they are almost
universal in their growth. Hardly a square foot of the
leaf mould beneath our feet but what is threaded bv

their white roots (mycelium)
in the form of a pale stringy
more or less visible mould,
ready after the first rain
to send up its variety of
curious shapes, here a puff-ball or a para-
sol, there a tiny club or branching yellow
tree, now a scarlet berry or a tiny teacup filled with
buttons, or perhaps a wee mortar that bursts and hurls
its balls of spores several inches across the leaves. At
first glance they would appear to grow entirely at hap-
hazard, but the student of fungi soon
learns that few plants are more partic-
ular and consistent in the selection of
their haunts.

Would you put the matter to a sim-
ple test? This old dead chestnut -burr
at your feet. Let us examine it. What
do you find? It seems to be speckled
with tiny white dots barely larger than
the period of this printed page. If we turn our pocket-
glass upon them, we find them to be perfectly formed
globular mushrooms growing from the sides of the de-
caying spines of the burr. Each of these bursts like a
puff-ball, and sheds thousands of spores, which are taken

THE WONDERFUL FUNGUS TRIBE

1 89

up by the wind and wafted where you will. They fall
in every conceivable place, but it is only when they
find their favorite dead chestnut -burr that they care to
grow. They are never found elsewhere than among
these decaying spines. It is a distinct species, named
after the chestnut -burr, its only home.

Here upon the matted leaves we find a little colony
of small yellow parasols with long black stems. They
appear to be growing through an oak-leaf; but if we
carefully tear away the leaf we bring our parasols too,
for they are true to the dead oak- leaf only. You may
find other similar parasols upon the maple-leaf, but
they are another species.

Once, while sitting in the woods by the edge of a
stream, a young companion called my attention to an
orange -colored cone about three-quarters of an inch
in height protruding from a bed of green moss at
my elbow. I discovered it to be the cap of a small
mushroom, whose stem penetrated deep into the moss.
With much care I succeeded in separating the moss,
being curious to discover upon what the fungus had
grown, and to my astonish-
ment, when I drew it to the

surface, found it
attached to a
chrysalis an inch
and a half in
length. The
branching roots
of the fungus penetrated
the interior, and a dis-
section of the chrysalis
showed the perfectly formed
moth ready to emerge, but
now being transformed from
an insect into a fungus by the
absorption of the plant. What do
we infer from this? I have never
seen this species described, except in
my own paper in the Scientific Amer-
ican some years since, but it is safe to
assume that if it is ever seen again, in
the moss or else-
where, the same
chrysalis will be drawn
to the surface with it,
for it plainly belongs

to a genus of fungi of which ,//

several species are known, and
one or two of which are
among the most remarkable
of their tribe. In New
Zealand, for instance,
there is a similar spe-
cies which has a fancy
for the head of a cer-

THE WONDERFUL FUNGUS TRIBE

tain caterpillar. It grows rapidly to the length of sev-
eral inches, gradually absorbing the body of the insect,
and at length takes root in the ground and continues
its growth.

In the Chinese apothecaries' shops we may obtain a
queer bundle, like a small bunch of crooked dried fag-
ots, about four inches in length. They are powdered
and used as medicine by the innocent Celestials, and
are a regular article in their pharmacopoeia. It needs
but a second glance to see that these dried sticks con-
sist of a long-stemmed fungus attached to the head of a
wrinkled dead caterpillar, a species known as the Sphae-
ria sinensis in the technical works.

These are only a few of the typical eccentricities of
this wonderful tribe of . fungous
growths. Almost any half-hour's
walk in the country will show
us many equally curious.
The instance of the chest-
nut-spine fungus is but one
of many similar surprises in
store for the amateur fun-
gologist.

THE
AUTUMN PIPERS

October ijth

IRD-NOTES are few and far between these
days, the " Caw ! caw !" of the distant crows
and the plaintive warble of the bluebird
being perhaps the more notable exceptions.
But a new order of music now follows on the pro-
gramme to hold the diminuendo until the frosty days
shall finally close the musical season.

There are a great number of sprightly autumn whis-
tlers which now come upon the scene, either in solo or
in chorus, among which a discriminating ear may de-
tect a variety of distinct songs. We all know the im-
petuous " Tr-r-r-r-rdt !" of the tree-toad (Hyla versico-
lor), even though we know not where to look for its
source, having perhaps rested our eyes upon the vocalist

a half-dozen times without a
suspicion of his being other
than a variegated fragment of
bark, so vvondrously does that
mottled gray decoration sym-
pathize with its surroundings.

Then there is that pure,

194 SHARP EYES

shrill pipe of finer quality, without quaver or trill, which
is quite as much wrapt in mystery as to its source as
that of the tree-toad, except that it proceeds somewhere
from the boughs over our heads, a note that brings
back the spring again. For this is the same shrill peep
that ushers in the April from the ripples of the swamp
— the Hylodes, now turned acrobat, as much at home
here among the trees as we saw him in the bog last
March. We hear his pipe, and occasionally catch a
glimpse of the piper jumping across the brown dead
leaves, himself as brown as they, but the piper and the
pipe are rarely caught together.

The brown leaves also claim another proteg£ dressed
to their liking, whose somewhat coarse clucking note
occasionally joins the shrill peep of the Hylodes. We
may see him jump, and might yet almost fail to find
him again, so perfect is his disguise, were it not for that
telltale black cheek which he wears — the wood-frog, an-
other dweller of the spring swamp out for a few months'
airing.

But the rarest and most mysterious of all these forest
peepers yet remains to be described. Many of us have
heard his sprightly plaint without knowing where to
place the credit. Burroughs, I believe, is the first to
have traced the music to its source, and caught the mu-
sician in the act. He tells of his discovery as follows :

" For years I have been trying to ascertain for a cer-
tainty the author of that fine plaintive peeping to be
heard more or less frequently according to the weather
in our summer and autumn woods. It is a note that
much resembles that of our small marsh frogs in spring
— the Hylodes. It is not quite so clear and assured,
but otherwise much the same. Of a warm October day

I have heard the
woods vocal with
it. It seemed to
proceed from ev-
ery stump and tree
about one. Ordina-
rily it is heard only
at intervals through
the woods. Approach
never so cautiously the
spot from which the

sound proceeds and it instantly ceases, and you may
watch for an hour without hearing it again. ' Is it a
frog,' I said — 'the small tree-frog, the piper of the
marshes — repeating his spring note but little changed
amid the trees?' Doubtless it is, but I must see him in
the very act. So I watched and waited, but to no pur-
pose, till one day, while bee-hunting in the woods, I
heard the sound proceeding from the leaves at my feet.
Keeping entirely quiet, the little musician presently
emerged, and lifting himself up on a small stick, his
throat palpitated, and the plaintive note again came
forth. 'The queerest frog that ever I saw,' said a

196 SHARP EYES

youth who accompanied me, and whom I had enlisted
to help solve the mystery. No, it was no frog or toad
at all, but the small red salamander commonly called
lizard. The color is not strictly red, but a dull orange,
variegated with minute specks or spots. This was the
mysterious piper, then heard from May till November
through all our woods, sometimes on trees, but usually
on or near the ground. It makes more music in the
woods in autumn than any bird. It is a pretty, inoffen-
sive creature, walks as awkwardly as a baby, and may
often be found beneath stones and old logs in the
woods, where, buried in the mould, it passes the winter."

•

^^_-;MPi-~ . BURDOCK

BIRD-TRAP

October ijth

|E have indeed a most formid-
able device in the tenacious
burr seed of the burdock.
Beset with hooked - tipped
spines, it lays firm hold on every-
thing within reach, and is not ea-
sily removed, as many a rural lad
can testify who has had a handful
of them rubbed into his hair by some
playful school-mate. He soon learns,
however, that pulling is useless, that each
effort only increases the hopeless tangle,
and that only by crunching and separating
the seed can its hooks be removed, and leave
him possessed of his full allowance of hair.
These eager hooks have, of course, but one possible
mission in the economy of nature — to steal a ride on
the first craft that shall come within their reach. By
making the most of their opportunities — dog, sheep,
human, and otherwise — they have succeeded in travel-
ling pretty extensively over the civilized globe.

I 93 SHARP EYES

Several years since I met with an incident which
showed this tenacious proclivity in a new light, and gave
it a serious significance not before suspected — a trap for
birds. In passing through a copse one autumn day I
came upon a scene such as I have here pictured. The
captive bird was a chickadee, long dead. It had appar-
ently lit upon the cluster of burrs, and its feet becoming
entangled, had fluttered violently to escape, only to have
its wings pinioned securely on each side, in which posi-
tion it died. I have never seen or heard of a similar
instance. Are our small birds, then, ordinarily acquaint-
ed with the dangers of the burdock traps, and thus
warned to avoid them? The experience of this chicka-
dee would seem to be the certain fate of any small bird
which should repeat its heedlessness.

The lesser hooked burrs, such as the stickseed, beg-
gars ticks, sanicle, and agrimony doubtless occasionally
come into contact with the plumage of birds, but in
their diminutive size, though fully as tenacious, could
scarce prove more than an inconvenience.

I 7

THOSE PUZZLING
COCOON CLUSTERS

October soth

HEY may be found now almost
any day in a short stroll through
the rowen fields. I have picked
over fifty clusters in one short
walk across an October meadow. They
are generally attached in a circular clus-
ter about a grass stem, thirty to fifty in
number, of the size shown in the illus-
tration, and may be either white or
pale sulphur yellow in color. To the
casual observer they appear like tiny ob-
long eggs, but they are in truth firmly
woven silken cocoons, and though we
may discover hundreds of them in
the grass, there are few observers
who would be likely to guess
their origin, for it is a rare find
to catch the spinner at its work.
Such a discovery would indeed
be a surprise to most of us, as
will be seen.

2OO SHARP EYES

If we preserve a few of these clusters in a box until
next spring we shall be treated to a singular spectacle.
At the appointed day, each egg-shaped cocoon suddenly
flies open, with a lid at the top, and, like
a tiny black "jack-in-the-box," a small
midget of a fly is seen standing upright
within, and at length emerging. I have
before me as I write a small phial with a
hundred or more of the empty silken
cases, each with its dainty lid either fully
upraised, or with an occasional pair of
curious eyes peeping out through the
half -opened crevice. The flies are very
small, but great in mischief, and if we could but follow
one of them as we release it from the window, we might
soon learn the secret of that cluster of cocoons.

Yonder on the red clover leaf a small green caterpil-
lar is feeding. Nature has intended him to blossom out
into a pale yellow butterfly (Philodice) next September
if all goes well with him. But, no, it is not so ordained;
for though it takes a sharp eye to find him there against
the clover stem, our tiny fly has espied
him, and has been on the lookout for £p,j
him from the moment she first /^,

peeped from the little silken box. S^W?
In a twinkling she has lit upon ^K&££ltK2!&L&
him, and soon has plant- -l,^' •'?

ed a number of eggs / /-^SP- S"** ^

within his body. He '- y ./^/ ' """"^.^

expostulates with y/

his tormenter cat- •• ff

erpillar fashion, '^-*^<- ^-

and wriggles from

/

/ '

THOSE PUZZLING COCOON CLUSTERS 2OI

side to side for a few moments, and then concludes to
make the best of a bad matter and forget his troubles
in a generous meal of clover, for he now must eat for a
host where he ate for but one before.

In a few days the eggs have hatched into minute
larvae ; these attach themselves to the tissues within his
body, and are probably little more than an inconven-
ience to our caterpillar until the final few moments of
his career. He now suddenly loses his appetite, and
feels an " all gone " sensation, such as few dyspeptics
ever experience. In a few minutes we shall look for
him in vain, his place being occupied by a cluster of
white or yellow cocoons and a few whitish grubs half
hid in their unfinished webs. An hour ago he was a
full-grown, apparently normal caterpillar; now nothing
remains of his identity but a thin, shrivelled skin down
among the grass, while the butterfly of his hope has
given place to a brood of black ichneumon -flies — a
most pregnant illustration, drawn from real life, of the
dire consequences of indwelling, abiding sin, which is re-
spectfully referred to the consideration of our pulpit
counsellors.

THE WITCH-HAZEL BOMBARDMENT

October 2oth

NE by one the lingering wild flowers
have succumbed to the frosts ; a
few of the hardy asters being the
only reminders of the regal glory
of the October copses.

But though the blighting breath
of the approaching winter is fast
quenching even these remnants of bloom, there is one
fresh blossom which shall abide to welcome " chill Nov-
ember," even as the dandelion welcomed May, and as
the rose and the golden-rod welcomed June and Sep-
tember. The waving pennants of the witch-hazel, coil-
ed for weeks within their patient buds, are now swung
out from thousands of gray twigs in the copses, and
the underwoods are lit up with the yellow halo from
their myriads of fringy petals.

These luminous blossoms are very well known to
most dwellers in the country, but there is something
else going on there among the twigs which few observ-
ers have suspected. It is a mischievous haunt out there
among the witch-hazels about this time. I shall never
forget the caper it played upon me years ago.

I had been attracted by a bush which showed an un-

THE WITCH-HAZEL BOMBARDMENT

203

usual profusion of bloom, and while standing close be-
side it in admiration I was suddenly stung on the cheek
by some missile, and the next instant shot in the eye
by another, the mysterious marksman having apparently
let off both barrels of *
his little gun directly
in my face.

I soon discovered
him — an army of
them in fact, a saucy
legion — all grinning
with open mouths and

white teeth exposed, and their double-barrelled guns
loaded to the muzzle, and ready to shoot whenever the
whim should take them.

These little sharp-shooters I have shown in my illus-
tration. They are the double-barrelled guns of the
witch-hazel — the ripe pods of last year's flowers — now

204 SHARP EYES-

opening everywhere in the woods among the yellow
blossoms. Each pod contains two long black shining
seeds of bony hardness. The pod splits in half, expos-
ing the two white-tipped seeds. The edges of the
horny cells contract against the sides of the seed, and
finally expel it with surprising force, sometimes to the
distance of over forty feet. If we sit quiet on a sunny
day in a witch-hazel copse we may hear the dry leaves
rattle with the. continual bombardment. A branch of
the unopened pods brought home and placed in the
vase upon the mantel will afford considerable amuse-
ment as the seeds rattle about the room, singling out
their whimsical targets, or, perhaps, carrom around from
walls and ceiling, from the glass lamp-shade upon the
table, or the evening newspaper of paterfamilias, or,
possibly, the bald spot upon his head.

THE SALUTE

FROM THE VIOLET

0

October 2?th

HE witch-hazel is not the only sharp-
shooter of the autumn woods. It has
a tiny rival down there among the dried
leaves, which, in proportion to its size,
quite as valiant — the blue spring violet —
and with which it doubtless exchanges an oc-
casional salute.

" But the season of the violet was closed some
six months ago," you remark. " What has Novem-
ber to do with violet seeds?"

Yes, the " blue violet " which the world knows closed
its season in May; but having devoted a month or so to
vanity, it has since been settling down to sober realities
of life, and the cares of maternity — scattering its broods
through the woods.

There are blossoms there among those seeds even
now which the frost will probably kill — perfect blos-
soms. To be sure they have no petals, but all these
shooting pods, that are pinching out their pear-shaped
seeds a distance of ten feet upon the dried leaves, were
preceded by just such blossoms, tiny, pointed affairs,

206

SHARP EYES

which never even peep beyond their calyx. How few
of our wild-flower hunters know their "blue violet?"

My illustration, the Viola cucullata, is a specimen
which grew in my city garden, a plant brought from
the woods and which soon made itself too much at
home. The singular cleft form of the leaf was the
cause of its original selection, a variety known as the
" hand leaf," and which is a frequent " sport " of this
species of violet. In its new quarters it devotes itself
particularly to a rank growth of its peculiar foliage,
showing but few flowers ; but in the late summer and
autumn, when no one ever thinks of a violet, the plant
is prolific in bloom, invisible to the general observer, but
easily seen on close examination of the soil at its root.
Every sunny day, even until the middle of November,
the three-cornered stars of the opening pods may be
seen by hundreds, and all the neighboring grass-plot
and borders are sown with violet seeds.

.

t

October zjth

NY one who is at all acquainted
with botany knows that a willow
has no right to have a cone. The
pine, spruce, hemlock, larch, and
others of their evergreen tribe are
supposed to have a monopoly of
cones. The magnolia has a sort of
cone-shaped fruit, 'tis true, and the
tulip- tree another, but they are not true
cones, after all, and there are only a few
of similar mimics among fruits. Yet here
we find a willow bearing dozens of cones ap-
/ parently as perfect as any that the pine-tree can
'/ show, which is, in truth, no fruit at all. They are
an inch or an inch and a half in length, and grow
on the tips of the branches. Yet we know perfectly
well that all the axils of the leaves below have already

2O8 SHARP EYES

turned out their proper willow fruits in the "cottony
seeds" of early spring. What, then, is this spurious
fruit which we now see everywhere among the leafless
dwarf willows?

Look ! Yonder chickadee can tell us all about it.
He knows the confusing botanist that would make a
pine out of a willow. See ! He alights upon a branch,
and now inserts his bill at the apex of the cone, and
probes the interior. Presently the probe is withdrawn,
and with it the tiny expert who is responsible for this
mischievous confusion — a small orange- colored grub,
which has been sleeping and luxuriating for weeks
within the hollow core of the growing cone. It is per-
fectly plain from an examination of a section of this
cone, with its layer on layer of leafy scales, its hollow
cavity at the centre, and of course no sign of any seed,
that it was designed merely as a home for this plump
larva.

And why, then, has this willow been so accommodat-
ing as to give up its own plans, and sprout this tiled
domicile for a yellow grub to which it is under no obli-
gation ?

If we gather a few of the cones and keep them until
next spring, we shall see the real magician who has vou-
dooed the willow — a tiny fly (Cecidomyia strobiloides of
the naturalists), that tampers with the willow buds of
spring, and with some magical medicine humors it into
thus taking care of its young ones. This cone is one of
thousands of similar gall growths upon various plants,
such as the rosy ball on the cinque-foil, the crimson
sponge on the sweetbrier, or the swollen tumors on
the high blackberry stems, with their hundreds of
squirming tenants, all of the same origin, caused by the

THAT WILLOW CONE

209

stings of tiny insects and the implanting of their
eggs.

It must have escaped the notice of old Gerarde, the
botanist of two centuries ago, else he had doubtless
classed this species as the "cone-willow," even as he act-
ually classified another willow as a " rose " on account
of a similar insect excrescence, in which the bud was
transformed into a dense cluster of leaves somewhat
suggesting a rose — a species which may frequently be
found in company with our " cone."

FROST- FLOWER

November jd

is called the " frost - weed " in
our botany. But when we know
that it blooms only in July, and
has gone to seed by August, we may
well wonder at the christening; and
though the botany clearly tells us why
it is so named, it is always a surprise
when we first verify it in the fields.

Properly speaking, we have but one
true frost -flower — a flower that awaits
the season of frost as its chosen period
of blossoming — and that is the witch-
hazel, of which I wrote last week. The chick-
weed often blooms beneath the snow in mid-
winter, but this is at best a tardy blossom of a plant
that bloomed in summer; it is not a true frost-flower
like the witch-hazel. The plant which forms the
subject of this article is a "frost-flower" in another
and more curious sense.

The botanical name of the plant is Helianthemum

THE FROST- FLOWER 211

Canadense. It is richly endowed with blossoms — three
sorts, in truth. One bright showy one of July, which
soon withers, followed in August and September by
thousands of others on each plant, though no one would
guess it, so minute are they; and again, now in No-
vember, the third and quaintest blossom of them all.

The July blossom is indicated in my illustration. It
is bright yellow, about an inch across, with its stamens
flatly pressed against the petals, and two or three are
occasionally in bloom at once. The November flower
is also shown in my panel picture — the flower from
which the plant is named, but which few people ever
see. Almost any morning during the past week, after a
severe frost, would have shown it to us among the
stubble where the plants are known to grow, glistening
like specks of white quartz down among the brown
herbage close to the base of the stem.

It is a flower of ice crystal of purest white which
shoots from the stem, bursting the bark asunder, and
fashioned into all sorts of whimsical feathery curls and
flanges and ridges. It is often quite small, but some-
times attains three inches in height and an inch or more
in width. It is said to be a crystallization of the sap of
the plant, but the size of the crystal is often out of all
proportion to the possible amount of sap within the
stem, and suggests the possibility that the stem may
draw extra moisture from the soil for this special occa-
sion. The frost -flower is well named.

NOVEMBER BIRDS

November

I

HE glow of the autumnal tints has now
almost faded from the hill-side, and is
smouldering beneath the ashen gray of
naked twigs ; for the sound of rustling
leaves now follows us in our rambles in
the woods.

The wilds are almost desolate as to bird voices; the
plaintive note of the bluebird is the sweetest note these
days, and the jargon of the distant crows is November's
own.

But the crows we have always with us, and their vo-
cal strain is never much of a novelty. Most of the great
choir of spring songsters are now on their migration to
the South — the bobolinks (such as have escaped the
shot-guns of New Jersey and Pennsylvania), song-spar-
rows, thrushes, orioles, vireos, etc. — and those that now
remain with us are mostly so shy and uncommunicative
as to be scarcely recognizable by their friends.

But these November remnants of the spring and sum-
mer are not my " November birds." November, at least
with us in New England, has its own especial birds,
even as it has its flower. But they are ours for a few
days or weeks only — brief visitors, birds of passage from
the North, that touch and go, as it were, sampling our

NOVEMBER BIRDS 213

meadow crumbs in their leisurely journey to the South,
and we should avail ourselves of the opportunities to
make their acquaintance.

Prominent among the list of these rare visitors is the
fox- sparrow, which may now be seen in flocks in the
woods, in size suggesting a thrush, but whose stouter
bill and foxy dress and compact build will readily iden-
tify him. Then there is quite a brood of tiny warblers
which are now passing our way, either as the pioneers
of those coming flocks, or loiterers of flocks already
gone. The autumnal -streaked warbler, with its jetty
head and white cheek and gray and black streaked back
and breast (Dendroica striatd), is a common straggler in
our November woods ; also the yellow-rumped warbler,
with yellow crown, black cheek, and broad black stripe
on the breast under the wing (D. coronatci). The Cape
May warbler is considered the rarest of these flying
callers (D. tigrina). Its throat and breast are of a bright
yellow, streaked with black. A yellow line over the
eye and the tan-colored cheek, with melting tinge of the
same color around the back of the head and upon the
throat, will help to identify the species. Then there are
yellow redpoll and black and yellow warblers, whose
distinguishing features are well indicated in their names,
though the latter has lost some of its black in its au-
tumn plumage.

Among the most constant of these autumn birds is
the snow-bird, with its black head and ashen-gray body.
He has only just arrived with us, but inasmuch as he
will abide with us all winter he is not properly one of
my " November birds." The most conspicuous of all
these November comers is the white bunting, or white
snow-bird, which arrives with the first flying snow-flakes,

and through the winter their flocks
may be seen flying before the wind in
the clouds of drifting snow, for they,
too, have come to stay with us. Their
summer has been spent among the
arctic snows. They are lovers of the
cold, and in their migrations keep to
the edge of the severest winter, going
southward as the cold increases, but
never at home without the snow and
the biting cold.

But my one November bird, which
is the crown jewel of them all, yet re-
mains to be described. We may
confidently look for him now

NOVEMBER BIRDS 215

out in the orchard or border thicket of the woods. He
passed us in his northward trip early last spring, but was
lost in the throng. But now he is almost alone, and we
should not let our November pass without paying our
compliments to him, almost the tiniest of our native
birds. His total length is only four and a half inches,
his plumage generally of a dull olive-color, but he wears
a crown of the brightest vermilion, which is his unique
feature. You would hardly suspect it as you see him
there, almost within touch of your hand, prying among
the dead leaves upon the apple branch. Strangely
enough, he seems especially careful to keep it conceal-
ed beneath the surrounding olive feathers. " Ruby-
crowned Kinglet," he is called — " kinglet," a little king.
There are few crowned heads of larger size that wear a
brighter coronet than the Regulus calendula. His is a
needless lesson, for certainly none of his superiors in
size has more reason to display the crown than he.

THE ASH PADDLE,
AND THE BIRCH BARK

November loth

HAT a pleasant rus-
tle is this which we
hear now in the
denuded woods from
the brown dry clusters of the
ash seeds overhead ! It is enough
to sit beneath the trees and simply
listen, but we should not stop at
listening. This ash seed, consid-
ered merely as a seed, with its trim
contour and shapely symmetry, and
its gamut of soft tints of olives and
browns, is a beautiful creation. The

botany designates this
particular form of seed
as a samara, or winged
fruit, of which the flut-
tering broods of the ma-
ple, the pine, tulip-tree,
and elm are other fa-
miliar examples; but
this rustling ash seed
has a little more to say
to us — that is, if the
reader is of my way of think-
ing— than is found in the
botany. Every now and then
a stray seed flutters down
in its dizzy whirling flight
and settles lightly upon the
dry leaves. Let us look at
one closely, and as we look
give freedom to our fancy.

Something in the design
of this flat-bladed samara will surely set us thinking
and irresistibly suggest a series of questions.

What is the favorite and most ancient timber from
which the oar and paddle are made ? The ash. Who,
then, was the primeval wood -craftsman who first took

this unmistakable
hint from this singu-
lar seed — for is it not
a perfect model for
the Indian paddle or
the blade of the mod-
ern oar? How many

2l8 SHARP EYES

centuries did these clusters of prophetic seeds rustle
against the white bark of the birch, awaiting that ul-
timate association of utility in the Indian canoe and
paddle?

Nor is this the only model which the ash bestows.
There are half a dozen native species of this tree, each
with its especial design of paddle — here a long tapering
and there a broad and abrupt blade, each, no doubt, the
faithful expression of its particular parent tree — of the
grain and fibre of its being. Confusion, then, to the
wood-craftsman who shall violate its precept and shape
his red-ash paddle upon the blue-ash model !

The birch and the ash are further wedded in the tro-
phies of the Indian. We have seen where he obtained
his model for the paddle; who knows where he found
his hint for the fashioning of the stone arrow-heads
which he bound upon the ash shafts of his arrow?

"The birchen bough drops its bright spoil
Like arrow-heads of gold,"

says Bryant, in his poem to " October," in allusion to
the autumn foliage of the smaller white birch, whose
leaf might well serve as a pattern for many an Indian
arrow-head in the archaeological collections.

BIRD-NEST MATERIALS

Nowmber i"]th

NOTHER bright winter's day. To
the woods to see what birds' nests
are made of." Such is the brief
entry in Thoreau's winter journal one
January day, over thirty years ago, and
in others of his pages we read of his pur-
suing the same quest, and stopping in his
walks to unravel the deserted hanging-bas-
kets of the vireos and other birds. Many winter
walkers before and since Thoreau's time have followed
the same amusement. It is an attractive and instruc-
tive pastime, and will give added zest to our autumn
or winter stroll. The woods are now nearly bare of
foliage —

" Boughs are daily rifled
By the gusty thieves,
And the book of nature
Getteth short of leaves " —

220

SHARP EYES

and hundreds of nests which before were completely
concealed are now disclosed on right and left. What
a surprising list of materials have these feathered
builders gathered in their gleaning! What singular
preferences and whimsical fancies are shown in almost
any deserted nest you
may meet !

Let us begin with
this gray vireo's nest

hung here almost across
our path in the woods.

How little did we suspect its presence as we passed
this way last June! What are the materials of this
basket hanging here in the fork of the maple ? Let us
unravel it. It is already somewhat worn and weather-
beaten, but it will be many a month before these tough
strands which enwrap the twig are loosened. Here we
find the toughest material of the nest, our wise bird

BIRD-NEST MATERIALS 221

having selected fibres of inner bark, spider, and cocoon
silk, and strips from the milk-weed stalk — strong as flax
— to moor its cradle.

The compact body of the nest gives a singular vari-
ety ; here are strips of white and yellow birch bark, as-
ter calyxes, cobwebs, a blue-bottle fly, spider-egg silk
tufts, slender roots, bits of pith, skeletonized leaves,
pine-needles, old cocoons of the tussock-moth, grass,
caterpillar- hairs, dandelion seeds, moss, and feathers.
A broad piece of mottled gray paper- like substance
forms the outside base of the nest. We might have
been certain of finding this — a fragment of hornet's-
nest, one of the favorite fabrics of all the vireos. And
what is this white weather-beaten fragment which
crops out beneath it? A bit of newspaper! Further
unravelling shows a number of similar pieces embedded
in the fabric, and one or two are seen on the ground
beneath the nest.

Such were the ingredients of a certain vireo's nest
which I once found, and which I have selected as my
present specimen. It was a nest of the red-eyed vireo,
and though quite an average specimen of its kind, it
proved in one respect a remarkable disclosure, as I
will explain. Most of the fragments of the nest I
threw away, but I found in the newspaper bits a rev-
elation which led me to preserve them most carefully.
Not that the newspaper element was an exceptional
rarity, for all the vireos have a fancy for this peculiar
material. Indeed, the white-eyed vireo was called the
"politician" by an old ornithologist because of this
very fondness for the newspaper. But why did I pre-
serve these particular newspaper selections above oth-
ers? As I have said, the nest was that of a red-eyed

222

SHARP EYES

vireo. This bird has been called the "preacher" by
Wilson Flagg, a close bird observer, who had noted
the peculiar, continuous, deliberate song-sermon of the
bird in the tree-top. Remembering this, I was led to
scan with curiosity, as I had often done in previous
nests, the text of these weather-beaten waifs of news.
There were about a dozen pieces in all. In most of
them the print was worn and illegible, and in others so
fragmentary as to be without sense. But at length I
came upon the sentiment which I have here reproduced
r by photography,

the only single
perfect sentence
to be found in
all the print —
my "preacher's"
text — "have in
view the will of

Godr

But I have not
begun to men-
tion all the curi-
ous things that
are woven into a

vireo's fabric. These nests are the " samplers " of nat-
ure's nest textiles, and each one may have a new sur-
prise for us. I once found one which was decorated
with a hundred or more black spiny caterpillar-skins.
Another showed the gauzy mitten of a toad. Another
a half-yard of lace edging. And only last year I dis-
covered the most singular specimen of all — a real nov-
elty even for a vireo — a nest almost entirely composed
of snake-skins.

THE
SNAKE-SKIN HUNTER

November ijth

(T would be interesting to
know just where our whim-
sical vireo obtained those
snake-skins. A fragment of

snake -skin, or even one whole skin, we might allow
him; but three or four! this is rather suspicious.
Had he discovered a family of sleepy striped snakes
about to drop their winter clothing, and taken care of
their cast-off garments one by one as they were left in
the grass? But this is stretching a point in favor of our
vireo and his valor. I rather suspect that this particular

224 SHARP EYES

nest represented a raid on the stores of another bird
noted for his partiality to the snake-skin. Once, when
a boy, while investigating a woodpecker's den in a wil-
low-tree, I pulled from the^ bottom a handful of snake-
skins. Knowing the habits of snakes in the casting of
their sloughs, and knowing, too, that the " racer," or
black-snake, was a good climber, I concluded that I had
intruded upon the private dressing-room of the snake,
and not knowing how soon he might return to change
his clothes, I quickly left the premises. A few years
later the mystery was explained in my ornithology. I
had found a deserted nest of the great crested fly-catch-
er. This bird is the snake specialist, and its nest in the
deserted woodpecker's hole is seldom free from a gener-
ous lining of snake- skins of various kinds and sizes.

Here are a few of the eccentric specialties of other
nest-builders:

Wren Feathers.

Chipping-sparrow Horse-hair and roots.

Solitary vireo Coon-hair, deer-hair.

Snow-bunting Fox-hair.

Worm-eating warbler. . .Hickory and chestnut catkins.

Ovenbird Dried spore-stems of mosses.

Purple finch Hog-bristles and horse-hair.

Kentucky warbler Pith of weeds.

Prairie warbler Cast-off caterpillar-skins.

Yellow warbler Feathery seeds.

Blue-gray gnat-catcher . . Bud-scales, dried blossoms, and fern-down.

Humming-bird Fern-wool, red-oak leaf-down.

Baltimore oriole Milk-weed bark, horse-hair, and long moss.

Yellow-billed cuckoo Small sticks.

Robin Grass and mud.

Golden-crested wren. . . .Spanish-moss.

Chimney swift Home-made glue (saliva) and sticks.

It will be seen that there is a wide variety of choice

THE SNAKE-SKIN HUNTER

225

*

he

•

'

among the birds. No doubt, like
other two-legged artists, they en-
joy most spirited squabbles among
themselves as to the comparative
merits of hogs' bristles and badger-
hair, or of this or that method of
laying on the paper, hornet- nest,
horse-hair, or caterpillar-skins. We
must admit, of course, that there
is some particular virtue in
each of these ingredients,
but we must draw the line
somewhere. Here, for in-
stance, we come upon a nest
in the fork of a tree that is
lined with cherry-pits and
buckwheat- shells. But I
will not dwell upon this now,
for I shall have something
more to say about it in an-
other page.

;\

4x , %

%>-

V

NOVEMBER'S
WILD FLOWER

November 241/1

HAT is the last wild
blossom of the year? If
we go into the bare woods, we
may even now bring home quite
a bouquet — asters of various kinds, golden-
rods, creeping mallows, daisies, purple toad-flax, yellow
toad -flax, centaury, dandelion, chickweed, and other
blooms. But these do not count ; they are not true
November flowers, but only straggling remnants from
October's overflowing cornucopia. The month of

NOVEMBER'S WILD FLOWER 227

March has its own chosen prophet in the hooded her-
mit of the bog — the skunk-cabbage flower. What is
the one floral emblem of November — New England
November, at least ? Before what flower may we now
pause in the woods, with this greeting from the poet :

"Thou waitest late and com'st alone,
When woods are bare and birds are flown,
And frosts and shortening days portend
The aged year is at an end."

Thus sang Bryant to his " fringed gentian " long ago ;
but I will venture the assertion that the next time he
went into the bare autumn woods he had to run the
gauntlet of the bombardment from the witch-hazel
guns, for it is to the witch-hazel blossom alone that
such sentiments could be addressed with any justice or
truth.

" The fringed gentian belongs to September," says
Burroughs, commenting upon the above lapse of the
poet, " and when the severer frosts keep away it runs
over into October. But it does not come alone, and
the woods are not bare. The closed gentian comes at
the same time, and the blue and purple asters are in
all their glory. Golden-rod, turtle-head (chelone), and
other fall flowers also abound. When the woods are
bare, which does not occur in New England till in or
near November, the fringed gentian has long been
dead. It is, in fact, killed by the first considerable
frost. No ; if one were to go botanizing, and take Bry-
ant's poem as a guide, he would not bring home any
fringed gentians with him. The only flower he would
find would be the witch-hazel." Burroughs evidently
gave the cold shoulder to the remnant blooms already

228

SHARP EYES

mentioned, his botanical quest referring only to the
fresh new flower of the month, for the fringy blooms of
the witch-hazel are the only flowers that "wait and
come alone."

Elsewhere the poet welcomes the dandelion in his
late autumn flowers, for this

" first pledge of blithesome May "

is also a pledge of October and
November as well. All through
June its cloudy balls seemed to
float above the grass ; but since
then how few of us have seen a
hint of the dandelion! But now,
in the cool, frosty days it has
taken a new lease of life, and the
lawn and rowen fields are
again dotted with their gold-
en buttons set close within
their rosettes.

It is one of our perennial
bloomers, and is the only
solitary rival of our witch-
hazel, for both are frequently
to be found in flower in Decem-
ber, while the dandelion occasionally
continues in bloom through the entire winter, meeting
the skunk-cabbage in March and the hepatica in April,
and thus completing the floral garland for the entire
twelvemonth. During the year 1871 I picked a dande-
lion every month in the calendar.

Another astonishingly pertinaceous winter bloomer is
the chickweed. Who can tell us when this plant at our

NOVEMBER'S WILD FLOWER 229

feet first began to bloom? It must indeed be a cold
day when

"the chickweed's eye is closed."

You are always sure of it. Even in midwinter, if you
know its haunt in some sunny nook, you may dig away
the snow, and pick its white, starry blossoms, larger and
fuller now than those of summer. I recall a beautiful
episode from one of my winter walks long ago, in which
the lowly chickweed won my gratitude. I was skirt-
ing the borders of a swamp where every hollow between
mound and tussock was roofed with thin, glassy ice left
high and dry by the receding of the water beneath, and
had approached within a few feet of the remnants of an
old farm hot -bed, which stood at the foot of a steep
southern slope. Its foundation was rimmed with the
mimic glass as though in consolation, and, in further
sympathy, at one portion the clear crystal roof disclosed
a lush growth of the chickweed beneath, its starry
blossoms rivalling the surrounding snow in whiteness.
A mimic conservatory — no, not a mimic, rather say the
model, the "cold-frame" which nursed its winter blos-
soms eons before the modern infringement of the florist
was conceived of, or the florist himself an entity.

December ist

UR birds'- nest hunter at this season
may learn much of the constructive
arts of the birds. As I showed in a
former chapter, the unravelling of these
abandoned nests reveals a surprising va-
riety of textiles and linings and deco-
rative materials.
f ^ «£ " But if we suppose that we are the

only birds'- nest hunters in the woods,
we are greatly mistaken. We will say
nothing of the owls, the cow-bird, the
jays, the fish-crow, the black-snake, and the red squir-
rel, which have all had their turn at the bird cradles,
with more or less murderous success. If we continue
our search long enough, we are certain to come upon
the most novel nest of all — one which has been found
before us, and which has been packed as full of inno-
cent mischief as a "jack-in-the-box."

A WINTER BIRD'S-NEST

231

I remember once in a winter walk discovering what I
supposed to be an abandoned nest of the chipping-spar-
row in a small spruce about seven feet from the ground.
I reached for it, and had barely touched it when I felt
a commotion within its interior, and in another instant
two black, beady eyes were staring down at me over the
edge of the nest. But only for a moment, for, with a
squeak and a spring — like a gray streak — to the ground,
the mysterious tenant was soon lost in the grass. I
carefully removed the nest. It proved to be, as I had
supposed, that of the chipping- sparrow, but so many
liberties had been taken
with it that but for the
horse-hair lining I should
hardly have recognized
it. A domed roof of
interwoven grasses

and dried leaves had been
erected upon it, and skilfully
intermeshed at the sides or
rim, a small hole having been
left for a door-way. A soft
lining of cotton or wool and
feathers almost filled the interior.

I carefully replaced the snuggery, and doubtless had
I thought to visit it occasionally during the subsequent
months a half-dozen whiskered, furry, bead -eyed in-
fants would have crowded at that little door- way to
give me a squeaky reception. For I had intruded upon
the winter retreat of the field-mouse, destined soon to
be a well-packed nursery.

The field-mice are the natural successors and heirs to
the bird domicile, and their evidences are to be seen in
many a disintegrating nest in the woods. On several
occasions I have discovered the nests of vireos and the
hair-bird lined with a variety of litter for which the
bird builders could hardly be held responsible — chaff of
oats, Indian -corn with the eyes cut out, buckwheat-
shells, and the like.

There is no telling what whims the vireo might not
take in nest building, but when we find the lining of its

A WINTER BIRD'S-NEST 233

nest composed of cherry -pits and hazel-nuts — even
though the nest be several feet above the ground, and
far out upon a slender twig, as I have found it — we
must look elsewhere for our bird, especially when we
find all the nuts to have been emptied through small
round holes in their sides, and the tiny grooves of sharp
teeth marking the edges of the shells.

THE MOST MARVELLOUS DRILL
IN THE WORLD

December 8th

HE season of animated insect life is long past,
and the "bug-hunter's" attention is now
mostly confined to the winter harvest of co-
coons everywhere disclosed among the de-
nuded twigs. True, there's the black-and-tan
"woolly bear" every now and then to be seen
crawling across the snow, the caddis-nests in
the brook, the water-beetles at the edge of the
ice, and those winter butterflies and snow-fleas, all of
which I shall describe in a later page. But there are
two curiosities more remarkable than any of these yet
awaiting us in the woods, if our eyes are only sharp
enough to find them ; one of which, in certain respects,
is the most wonderful insect which any insect cabinet
can show. »

It is true that we might have looked for our strange
insect several months ago; but then there was so much
else to choose from through the summer months, and
we knew that our secret would keep, and that the winter
would show us our prize. And here it is, clinging to
the bark of a maple-tree in the woods, all ready and
waiting for its collector — a perfect specimen, with legs
and wings firm and nicely spread and set, and, what is
more, mounted to the bark with its own pin !

A "big black wasp," you think? Yes, it does look

like a wasp ; but I can
readily imagine an or-
dinary wasp turning
green with envy at a
sight of the sting which
this specimen carries ;
the hornet's dagger
is an insignificant af-
fair beside it.

Let us examine the
insect closely. It seems
to be standing on tip-
toe on the bark, with

.
wings upraised ; its

body is bent in an up-
ward arch, and seems en-
tangled in a double-twist-
ed loop of horse-hair. And
thereby hangs a tail, for it is
this singular loop that has
won the insect its well-deserved
name as the most wonderful
borer on record.

If I were to exhibit to the
reader a piece of black horse-hair
about five inches in length, and
claim that it was a wonderful new
kind of gimlet which was capable
of boring a hole four inches deep

into solid wood, would I be taken seriously? And if
so, how astounding would seem the assertion ! And
yet to all appearances such is the instrument and such
the actual feat accomplished by this black wasp-like in-

\

sect here upon the tree before us — the great ichneumon-
fly (Thalessa lunator], which is endowed with the most
marvellous drilling instrument in the world — a dainty
complex machine beside which the most exquisite and
skilful mechanism of man's appears insignificant and
clumsy.

Had we chanced this way last summer we might have
had a better view of this wonderful drill, as our buzzing
ichneumon-fly hovered about the tree-trunk selecting a
place for her operations. I have pictured her in flight
with her slender borer displayed. To be correct, my
picture should show but one hair-like appendage instead
of three, but I have separated the borer into the three
divisions which appear in the act of boring — two of
them being merely the sheaths which close about the
true drill — all appearing as one when the insect is in
flight.

THE MOST MARVELLOUS DRILL IN THE WORLD

237

The variety of her positions assumed during the bor-
ing process I will not attempt to describe, nor can I, in
a brief popular paper, enter upon the very strange mus-
cular and anatomical action which accompanies the proc-
ess. But I have shown my ichneumon as she appeared
after the drilling was well under way; the large disk at
the extremity of the body being a contractile tissue dis-
tended by the loop of the drill within, and by which
the pressure is communicated to the straight shaft be-
low. By a muscular wriggling motion, continued with
patience for hours sometimes, the horse-hair gimlet
has sunk three inches into the wood, bringing up to
the surface a continual pouring of fine sawdust.
The membranous disk has disappeared by gradual
contraction, and the body at length assumed the
position which we now see in our dead specimen
on the tree, with the two loops of the sheath-
ing parts separated and meeting around the
drill where it enters the wood below, this
short section of about half an inch beneath
the tip of the body being all that is now
to be seen of the original four-inch bore.
But this last effort was evidently too
much for the insect. It exhausted her
strength, and she died without being
able to withdraw the shaft. <' «

And what is it all about ? What
fun can there be in such laborious
work, and in such hot August
weather too ? The intention of
this ichneumon is no less aston-
ishing than her mechanical
skill. She knows very well

238 SHARP EYES

what she is drilling for. There is a rival drill in the
insect field which she is evidently determined to ex-
terminate. I have shown her in the act of pouncing
upon another wasp -like insect upon the tree -trunk.
These two insects are linked in a most strange fashion
in the divine plan of Nature. The second insect is the
pigeon Tremex (Tremex columba), a borer of no mean
accomplishments, though her drill is less than an inch
in length. We may see her almost any day in Au-
gust, sometimes half a dozen together working upon a
single tree. Sooner or later our ichneumon finds this
same tree and searches out her enemy; for the Tremex
has laid its eggs within the tree, and its young larvae
are now driving their tunnels through the wood. It is
these that the ichneumon is after. She knows that
they are within, and her drill is something more than
a mere drill, for when once in place she lays an egg
through it, and the little grub which hatches from it
immediately takes the hint given by its mother. It
searches among the burrows within the tree until it
finds the Tremex larva, upon which it fastens itself,
living upon it as a parasite, and ultimately destroy-
ing it. It is an ichneumon -fly instead of a Tremex
which emerges from the aperture in the tree bark next
summer.

The mechanism of this ichneumon instrument is too
complex for adequate description here. It is composed
of three long pieces, which are dovetailed one with an-
other, and glide easily through their entire length, the
boring being accomplished by the alternate gouging
of the chiselled tips.

The entire diameter of this shaft is less than the
smallest period on this page, and though constructed

THE MOST MARVELLOUS DRILL IN THE WORLD 239

of three pieces, there is room to spare for a soft chan-
nel through its centre, by which the egg is conducted
to the depths of the burrow.

I have somewhere read that this particular boring
tool of the Thalessa has been infringed upon by a recent
human device, in which the same drilling mechanism
has been employed without so much as a " thank you "
to the ichneumon. How many others of the imple-
ments and devices and commodities and processes in
daily use by man — the fruit, it is claimed, of his "supe-
rior intelligence," all duly protected by letters-patent —
have had their first working model in nature ages be-
fore the human era? Who is he that assumes to be the
first paper-maker, weaver, plasterer, potter, or mason?
The world is overrun with impostors who would claim
the invention of saw, file, chisel, and gouge ; of the first
gun, or diving-bell, or lathe, to say nothing of propel-
lers, water- proof cement, log-cabins, javelins, scissors,
and even — pincers !

\

WINTER'S ROSETTES

December i^th

E are going to have an early spring," said
a rural philosopher to me one late Feb-
ruary day, pointing, as proof of his asser-
tion, to the numerous clusters of lush
green leaves disclosed everywhere in his
garden upon the melting of the snows.
" The weeds are starting already," he says, pulling up a
close clump of peppergrass leaves. And yonder is a
flat starry tuft of sorrel leaves as green as April grass,
and near by a hundred-pointed starry rosette of the
evening primrose hugging the frozen ground — all proofs
of an "early spring." Yes, the spring is in the hearts
of all of them, and has been abiding there for several
months. How few of them ever get the credit for
the hope and faith of which they are the perennial elo-
quent symbols ! The snow covers thousands of them.
Not all our evergreens are accounted for in our bot-

WINTER'S ROSETTES

241

any. We find no adequate m.ention of these quiet res-
olute rosettes which are everywhere disclosed in spring
upon the melting of the snow, but which might have
been found as early as the previous September. Many
a dried stalk or withered seed-pod protruding above the
snow will point the way to them. This wiry spire of
the pretty moth-mullein beset with its globular pods;
these brown catkins of the rib-grass plantain ; this feath-
ery sprig of peppergrass — we may readily guess what a
pretty tufted carpet
is that which covers
the bare earth about
their feet. This
brown spiny mock-
ery of last summer's
thistle reminds us of
the most beautiful of
all these winter dec-
orations, the sym-
metrical compound
star of acanthus-like
leaves, guarding the
root beneath, and
waiting in patience
for the first oppor-
tunity of sending up its stalk of bloom.

The evening primrose shows us one of the most per-
fectly symmetrical of all these leaf clusters — a beautiful
complex spiral star, geometrical in its arrangement, and
a perfect pattern for the modeller, sculptor, decorator,
or wood-carver. The willow-herb, or fire- weed (Epilo-
biui/i), is almost equally perfect; and, indeed, our art-
worker may find a wide choice of ornamental types,

242

SHARP EYES

without recourse to "design" — to those accustomed
liberties with leaves and blossoms in the "convention-
alized " rosettes so prevalent in decoration.

To the botanist this beautiful sym-
metry tells an interesting story, giv-
ing, as it does, a key to the entire
spiral arrangement of the leaves in the
mature plant, the stem being but a
prolongation of the axis upon which
the same progression of the rosette is
repeated. In the evening primrose,
for instance, we may count nine leaves
up. the stem before we reach one di-
rectly over the first, or starting-point. A careful exami-
nation of the rosette discloses the same arrangement.
If we imagine the stem of the plant to consist of an
elastic cord at full tension, then
our rosette would represent the
resultant of its contraction to
the ground.

In the instances of the moth-
mullein, thistle, and evening
primrose, we see typical bien-
nials, or plants which spend one
year in making a rosette, one
year to blossom, and die the
next. The plantain rosette is
perennial, renewed from year to
year from the same root. The peppergrass, with its
deeply-cut leaves shown above, is classed as an annual
by all botanists, though its millions of rosettes prove it
to be biennial as well, for many of them abide the winter
awaiting the spring for bloom.

WINTER'S ROSETTES

243

The examples which are here pictured are not draw-
ings, but are reproduced from actual photographs from
the plants themselves, all gathered in a few moments
from a vacant city lot not five minutes' walk from my
Brooklyn home. Almost any good-sized spot of bare
earth will show many other forms equally interesting,
and occasionally so profuse as to carpet the ground.
The plantain and peppergrass are thus frequently prev-
alent.

T seems as if the day was not wholly profane in
which we have given heed to some natural ob-
ject. . . . He who knows the most, he who knows
what sweets and virtues are in the ground, the
waters, the plants, the heavens, and how to come at these
enchantments, is the rich and royal man. ' ' — EMERSON.

THE SNOW

December 220.

NLESS our almanac is a delusion and a
. snare, this is the first week of winter,
and we may now confidently "look for
snow." Perhaps it may have fallen dur-
ing the night, covering the bare ground
for the first time during the winter, or perhaps only
sifted lightly over the crust of an earlier snowfall. But
both boys and girls may well put aside their sleds for a
walk with me this morning. This snow is good for
something else than coasting, or even snowballing.

Those who like a good story-book will do well to
study the snow, for they may indeed read it like a book.

248 SHARP EYES

It is a great white page storied with the doings of the
little wild folk which few of us ever see. Who ever
sees a deer-mouse, or even a common field-mouse? The
summer meadows are full of them, but we should never
suspect it, did we not occasionally surprise one scam-
pering away with a squeak before the scythe of the
mower, or perhaps jumping like a gray streak from a
forkful of new-made hay, or from beneath the corn-
shock as it is raised to the cart.

Their doings down deep among the summer grass no
one ever sees, but it is not so now. From the moment
their little whiskered noses peep from their burrows
their acts are recorded. They write their autobiography
day by day. We can see all the mischief they have
been up to during the night, and just what company
they have kept.

Here is a well-worn track to a pile of brush near by
where the snow is all cut up with footpints — a fa-
vorite rendezvous, evidently ; doubtless the gossip ex-
change of all the wild bead-eyed folk. Here is a spot
among the weeds where four little birds have danced a
quadrille or minuet — balance corners, forward and back-
ward, chassez, and all hands round. Close by, the snow
appears as if sewed with tiny stitches, and here we see
two long jumping trails circling about a stump. How
alive they seem ! telling plainly of a lively race between
two mice, both tracks terminating in a hole beneath a
stump. The snow on the top of the stump is ruffled
with the feet of the furry populace who witnessed the
sport, and doubtless cheered on their favorites in their
sprightly race.

I remember one winter catching sight of a retreating
tail whisking into a hole beneath a stump like this, and

STORIES IN THE SNOW

249

I shall not forget the eager pull with which I dislodged
a piece of the rotten timber, nor the jumping mouse
that sped out across the drift, nor the pocketful of hazel-
nuts and beechnuts which foiled out upon the snow.
There were acorns and chestnuts, too, and kernels of
corn with their "eyes" nibbled out, and in a cozy al-
cove within I discovered a snug nest of grass and cot-
tony substance — the winter home and larder of the
deer-mouse, or white-footed mouse.

t:

HOW BUNNY WRITES HIS AUTOGRAPH

December 22d

HERE are few country boys who do
not know those footprints about the
box-traps in the woods, and all
through the thickets everywhere —
four in a set. Yes ; we all know
them ; they are the unmistakable
seal or signature of the little gray
rabbit, or, more properly, hare. And yet I have never
met an individual who knew just how bunny writes his
autograph. Even though we see him in the act, he
writes it so fast that we cannot follow him. It is only
by examining it very closely that we can get at the
secret.

These footprints are always four in a set ; the two
front impressions being about six inches apart, and the
other pair quite close together, or even united occasion-
ally, or placed one directly in front of the other; the
direction of the hare's course being plainly seen by the
prints of the toes. But it will be a surprise to most
people to find on examination that the widely-separated
pair in front are really made by the hind- feet of the
animal, certain impressions showing plainly the full im-

HOW BUNNY WRITES HIS AUTOGRAPH

251

print of the long hind shank even to its heel, or elbow,
as this joint of the leg is incorrectly called.

Where the animal has progressed by slow, short jumps
— " when the hare limps awkward " — the marks of the
long soles are frequently to be seen ; but
in the more rapid leaps, clearing from one
to two yards, only the tips of the feet
have touched the snow.

The instantaneous photo-
graphs of Mr. Muybridge have
shown us some very surprising
disclosures in the various posi-
tions of the running horse and
other animals. I should like to
see a rabbit caught on the fly
in the same way; I am sure
should get some comical revelations.

A careful examination of his fourfold
autograph indicates the method of its
technique. The short fore-paws are
planted near together, the hind-feet then
pass outside and some inches beyond

252 SHARP EYES

them, and then follows a jump which may vary from
two to ten feet.

It is quite possible that bunny may really lift his
fore -paws by a spring before the hind -legs overtake
them, as shown in my foreground hare, but I fancy that
the photograph may yet show us some such transitory
attitude as we see in the one behind him.

THE COCOON HARVEST

December 2Qth

OW is the time to lay up your
1 store of cocoons, looking to
those beautiful moths of next
June; and there are two kinds
at least which will prove a sure
harvest for your winter walk.
For weeks they have been most effectually
hidden among the foliage, but now the thickets
are full of them in plain sight — that is, if your
eyes are sharp enough to find them. It always
adds to the zest of a walk at any season to
have some particular quest in view — a rare
flower or bird, an Indian arrow-head, perhaps.
And even now, in midwinter, when the wilds

254 SHARP EYES

are comparatively drear, there are few objects of life more
certain to reward your search than the large cocoons of
the Attacus Cecropia and the Attacus Prometheus — two
among our most beautiful and important moths.

The twigs of most thickets are now quite denuded,
with only what might appear a stray determined leaf
here and there. Often this leaf is precisely what it ap-
pears to be, clinging by its stem, or perhaps tangled in
a tiny spider's web which the winds have as yet been
unable to sever. Here and there, however, a cluster of
two or three will be found which have a suspicious look,
and a closer examination discloses that they are but the
artful disguise of a living secret within — the Cecropia
in its warm double cocoon. But there is a great deal
of hocus-pocus, too, among these deceptive leaves.
The bunch of leaves often proves a delusion. They
are a continual challenge to the analytic eye ; a puzzle
often only to be settled by so small a factor as their
degree of firmness in the wind, a light, beckoning leaf
seldom being worth answering. It is often a matter of
no small skill to tell at a hundred feet distance just
which cluster of leaves holds its cocoon.

These cocoons vary considerably in size and shape ;
some being nearly five inches long and very much in-
flated and bag-like ; others pointed at each end and be-
ing more contracted, but always of the toughest of silky
gray parchment in texture. They are secured to the
twigs by their longest side, and are quite commonly
(especially early in the winter) attended by the few
leaves which the caterpillar originally drew together
while constructing its silken framework. Occasionally a
specimen is found partially incased in a leaf, which leaves
a perfect mould of itself in the silk upon removal.

THE COCOON HARVEST

255

With these another cocoon is commonly found, and it
is an interesting study of insect sagacity for those who
are unfamiliar with it. In this case the deception is
quite pronounced, and doubtless hundreds of the co-
coons have been passed by and noted simply as dan-
gling leaves — " the last leaf upon the tree in the spring,"
perhaps. This is the hammock of the Attacus Prometheus.

Unlike the Cecropia caterpillars, the Prometheus
adopts a distinct preconcerted plan in the
construction of its cocoon, by which it pro-
vides a safe anchorage for the winter. A
suitable leaf is first selected, generally upon
a wild cherry, sassafras, spicewood, or button-
bush ; the stem of the leaf is then completely
incased in silk, and carefully secured to the
twig for several inches by the same means;
after which the leaf is contracted about the
caterpillar, and forms the mould for its win-
ter hammock. The wind and weather at
length loosen the withered leaf, but nothing
short of a vigorous pull will dislodge the co-
coon, which often suffers the branch to break,
or calls the pocket-knife into use before it
will release its hold.

Among the most pleasant winter memo-
ries of my boyhood was the quest for these
cocoons. Whether on foot through the
woods, or on frozen lake or river, skating
around among the flaky ice of the sedgy border swamps
and coves among the button -bushes and alders, sub-
merged in summer, but now revealing those empty nests
of the "conkaree," which so tantalized me a few months
before — here I filled my pockets with a daily harvest

256

SHARP EYES

of cocoons that was the envy of my less-
favored entomological companions.

Nor has the fever left me; even to-day I
cannot pass a cocoon and leave it alone. I
find my steps turning involuntarily towards
every thicket I meet in my winter walk.

Only last week, from one small copse in
the suburbs of the city, I brought home a
bouquet of twigs bearing one hundred and
forty odd of the cocoons of these two
moths, mostly of the Cecropia ; also one
small branch with a dangling accom-
paniment of twenty- three cocoons of
the beautiful ailantus moth, which,
added to the stock gathered in pre-
vious recent walks, ran the total
number up to nearly four hun-
dred.

What will I do with them?
I shall take the greatest pleas-
ure in dividing them around
among my friends, to most of
whom they will prove a real
curiosity and rarity, and who,
when June comes again, will
thank me most earnestly, as so
many have done already, for

affording them a glimpse of that wondrous revelation
of the emerging moth.

Gather the cocoons, then, my young friends. Gather
all you can, and distribute them among your neigh-
bors. It is good missionary work. There is a winged
sermon in every one of them.

AMONG THE WINTER TWIGS

January $th

HAVE recommended the Cccropia
and Prometlicus cocoons as desirable
quests for a winter walk. There
was a double purpose in that rec-
ommendation ; for, even though we get no cocoons,
we are led into wild haunts where various other in-
teresting things are to be seen. There is much be-
sides cocoons to tempt our search among the denuded
twigs of the woods. The fallen leaves have laid bare
many of the pranks of insect life that are completely
concealed in the summer foliage. What a variety of
interesting galls are now to' be found that had escaped
us when last we walked this way ! There is that bulby-
stemmed golden -rod. We see them on all sides now
against the snow. It is worth our while to gather a
few of them to keep till spring, when we may witness
the little winged tenant emerging through a tiny hole,
which is even now to be found beneath the bark if our

eyes are sharp enough to find it,
for each one of these is the winter
home of a tiny insect at present
in its chrysalis stage.

I have often been asked to ex-
plain another bulbous excrescence
which is found upon the twigs
of apple and wild -cherry. I have
introduced a picture of it here in
my border- group, just above the
bulby golden-rod. Every winter-
walker should know it, if only to
gather it for destruction, for every
one of them so plucked has saved
the tree or bush from an unsightly
caterpillar web the following year,
and, if in the orchard, from much
serious damage to the growing fruit
and to the tree as well. This curi-
ous bunch is the work of the small
brown apple-tree moth, and consists of
hundreds of eggs laid in a broad, close gir-
dle completely around the twig, and afterwards covered
with a brown water-proof and weather-proof varnish.

AMONG THE WINTER TWIGS 259

One of the most noticeable freaks to be seen among
the bare branches are those eccentric clusters of twigs
in the birch and sugar-berry trees ; all the branches run-
ning into brooms, as though getting ready for the spring
house-cleaning. But this is no natural expression of the
tree. It has been bewitched by a tiny mite, whose
broods live year after year in the crowded twigs, and
are the cause of the diseased growth. In early times
these bunches were known as "witches' brooms," and
all sorts of weird stories were connected with them.
But the true "witch" has since been caught riding the
broom ; and inasmuch as she is not readily discovered
without a magnifying glass, we need hardly worry much
about her.

THE GIRDLER BEETLE

^

January $th

we search beneath the hickory- trees we
may gather an interesting handful of twigs.
The snow is sometimes strewn with short branch
tips, their ends appearing to have been cut off
as with a file. Some artful fagot-cutter has been
at work here, surely! If we examine the low-
hanging branches of the trees, we shall find bet-
ter proof of his clever work, as shown in the pictured
twig. The branches are seen to be girdled with a deep
groove, sunk through the bark and deep into the wood.
Many of these girdles appear quite recent, the branch
beyond being full of sap, while in others this part of the
twig is plainly dead, and readily snaps when handled, a
strong wind being sufficient to strew the surrounding
snow with the lifeless twigs. The works of the myste-
rious pruner are plainly seen on every side, but we shall
have to go back to the August woods to solve the rid-
dle of his identity. Here we shall find the artful " gir-
dler " trimming the trees to its fancy, or, as I should say,
to Jier fancy; and how many are the misshapen hickory-
trees that can be laid to her effective industry?

I have pictured the pruner at its work ; and now

THE GIRDLER BEETLE

26l

that I have disclosed it in its haunt, and shown it to be
a prosaic beetle, I must be true to scientific fact, and
that fact is that this is a mother beetle, working solely
in the interest of her offspring. It must be admitted
that she takes a curious mode of providing for her chil-
dren ; but she is doubtless doing the best she knows,
and the plan seems to have worked very well, or else we
would not see her following the hereditary example of
her long line of foremothers. This is the way she in-
sures her posterity. First she finds a twig that suits

her fancy — and her fancy is easily satisfied. After
gnawing around on the bark for a while, as though to
find a suitable place to begin operations, she at length
starts her groove, travelling round and round the twig,
sideways, sinking the girdle deeper at every turn until
satisfactorily completed. After this — sometimes before,

262

SHARP EYES

it is said — she travels along the branch tip beyond,
and lays an egg in the soft bark, beneath one or more
buds of the twig, depositing each in a puncture well
beneath the surface. She now commends the branch
to destiny, and repeats the operation on another twig.
Briefly told, the sequel is as follows : the eggs soon
hatch into minute grubs, which penetrate beneath the
bark, and later devour the wood, which is more or less
alive with sap during the first season. The grub is
believed to live within the twig nearly three years, re-
ducing it at last to a mere shell, from which the per.
feet beetle at length emerges.

•V ' >^fK^.~.'s

THE WELL-NAMED HORSE-
CHESTNUT

January I2th

NDER our popular vocabulary of plants we
find many inappropriate names. We have,
for instance, a herd of " horse " growths —
horse-gentian, horse-balm, horse-radish, horse-
mint — without so much as a trace of signifi-
cance to recommend their christening. But
the horse-chestnut need no longer be in-
cluded among the common herd.

A few years ago a friend called my attention to cer-
tain scars upon the twigs of this tree, which he claimed
were the reason of its christening. I had noticed the
scars repeatedly without seeing any suggestion of the
" horseshoe " which he discerned there ; and the scars
themselves were not very different from those on the
hickory and ailantus, and various other compound-
leaved trees, which leave similar sunken marks upon the
twigs after the leaf-stalk has fallen. But one winter's
day, while carefully examining the branches of the
horse-chestnut, mainly with a view to its interesting

264

SHARP EYES

varnished buds, I was struck with a remarkable resem-
blance to the leg, fetlock, and hoof of a horse.

I give herewith a careful and exact drawing of the
twig as I have since repeatedly found it, and as it may
be discovered by any one who will take a little care in
the search. The three-cornered leaf scars may be seen
conspicuously on the winter twigs in opposite pairs,
particularly on the youngest wood, towards the budded
tips. In themselves they bear only the faintest suggest-
ion of the foot or shoe of a horse, as may be seen by
reference to the isolated scar represented in the sketch.
It is only when we find a branch with an accidental
forked tip that the conditions give rise to the mimicry
I have shown. Each of these
branching twigs, naturally
straight, has now acquired a
curve at the fork, by
which they seek to
neutralize the vacancy
caused by the loss of the ter-
minal shoot. This curve an-
swers to the fetlock joint of
a horse's foot; while the dis-
torted scar, with its row of
seven raised dots around its edge, takes its place with
striking significance. If with a sharp knife we now cut
off the twig, trimming the wood close to the edge of
the mimic hoof, the resemblance is still further en-
hanced, while the surface beneath discloses other mark-
ings which seem almost patterned after the sole, or
" frog," of a hoof. Here we have the leg, hoof, fetlock,
frog, seven nails, and all. It is certainly a curious
freak, and well worth a hunt among the winter twigs.

THE GROUSE ON SNOW-SHOES

V

January izth

N a previous chapter I have touched
upon the sprightly record of the
birds and mice upon the fresh-fallen
snow. I omitted to mention one
very interesting snow- track which
we may frequently meet with, lead-
ing us over the tops of snow-drifts
and circling among the alders and
sedges of the swamps, where the snow is
suggestively littered with bud-scales and
dirt. It is the track of a large bird ; and
from what we know of the habits of our
winter game, is plainly that of the ruffed
grouse, or " partridge," as he is commonly called.

But how is this? This is not the clean, trim imprint
which the bird makes in the mud or wet sand of sum-
mer. Here is something worth looking into, surely.
The snow gives us the tracks of the tiniest mice with
perfect modelling, tail mark and all ; yet while the foot
of the grouse is slender and dainty, here we find a
blurred and jagged track, with each toe apparently a
third of an inch in width. It is worth your while, my
city youth, to stop at the market or butcher's shop on

266

SHARP EYES

your way to school this morning, and look at the feet

of the grouse. Nature has not asked this bird to walk

the snows for its living without providing it with proper

means of locomotion. With its

slender summer foot it would

sink in the soft drift at every

step, while now it walks with

perfect ease on the lightest

snow, for each foot is provided

with a snow-shoe.

Every autumn the shoe begins
to grow, a stiff fringe of horny
bristles spreading around the
sole and on both sides of
each toe, until, by the time

THE GROUSE ON SNOW-SHOES

26;

the blizzard arrives, the bird is ready to walk on the
highest drifts. I have made a drawing of the foot
with and without its shoe.

The intention of this bristly growth is perfectly plain,
for in April, when the snows have melted, you may look
in vain for the snow-shoe ; the grouse has kicked it off
as a thing that has served its purpose. And yet, unless
I am much mistaken, you will find no mention of this
singular fact in any of our natural histories. The curi-
ous pectinated (comb-toothed) feet of the grouse are
noted as a special feature of this family of
birds, but the peculiar annual growth and ad-
aptation are, I believe, not generally known.
The difference between the summer and win-
ter tracks first drew my attention
and awakened my suspicion, but
that observant naturalist, Mr. Er-
nest Thompson, was the first to re-
cord the snow-shoe of the grouse.

This accommodating foot is com-
mon to all the grouse family, and
the prairie-hen is even more generously
equipped in winter than the ruffed grouse.
The latter bird uses his broad foot for bur-
rowing, and the winter walker, after a fresh
snow-fall or during a very cold stress of weather, may
often find their snow tunnels running for several feet
beneath the drifts.

I once knew a boy who surprised a grouse in the act
of excavating one of these burrows ; but the bird, in
spite of the most extreme caution on the boy's part,
left nothing but its tail in his hand to show for his
adventure when he reached home.

THE "FAIRY RING"
AND THE FAIRY

January I2th

HE rabbits, mice, and birds all leave their
own peculiar and unmistakable autographs
— their "hands and seals"- — in the snow,
but they are not responsible for all the sin-
gular hieroglyphics to be seen on this great
white page. The wind often takes a hand,
and after a light, fresh snow-fall plays pretty
pranks with the drooping stems of some of the
withered grasses; a single grass -blade under
the influence of varying playful breezes tracing
a puzzling variety of inscriptions.
Various degrees of proficiency are exhibited by these
queer writings; some being clusters of eccentric touch-
es, cutting the snow in odd lines, like stenographic
notes, as it were, made by our artist on the spot, as
though quickly jotting down some racy incident of furry
life which was passing at the moment. I have seen
these queer inscriptions on the fresh-fallen snow when I
was utterly at a loss to explain their origin, until the
thought of the wind suggested a clew, and by bending
down the tip of a long neighboring grass- blade I was
enabled to add to the written score so perfectly that I
doubt if either old Boreas or gentle zephyr, whichever
may have been the writing-master, would have been

THE " FAIRY RING " AND THE FAIRY

able to tell where he left off and I began.
Here and there we see a beautiful bow sharply
drawn in the snow, a perfect arc or section of
a circle, the work of this wiry sedge blade when
the wind guided its hand. If we care to con-
tinue the search, we may find an arc extended
to a semicircle, a spiral, or even to a complete
ring, almost as true as if struck with a com-
pass, and with the telltale drooping or broken
grass-blade still at work with every stir of the
breeze. " Fairy rings," the children used to
call them. I have pictured both the ring and
the fairy.

, ;&£*«/

THE THAW BUTTERFLIES

January igth

HE "January thaw" does not always arrive on
schedule time. It may come in late December,
or not until February. Even though there are no
icicles to melt and drip at the eaves, and no snow to
slide in mimic avalanche from the steaming roofs, we
may know of the thaw's impending arrival by the
appearance of its butterfly heralds.
^J|) Nor is it necessary that the thaw

«£[. should be a general condition of
the weather. I have known a
sunny, sheltered nook on the south
side of the barn to have a little thaw all by itself.

The poet sings pathetically of the fate of the butter-
fly on the approach of winter :

"Dying when fair things are fading away;"

and in the general truth he is correct. But did he know
that we have a whole brood of butterflies for which the
cold has no terrors, and which always tide over the win-
ter to enjoy the "fair things" of another spring? The
well-known "yellow edge," or Antiopa butterfly, else-
where alluded to in these pages, is of this hardy tribe,
and perhaps the best known among them.

THE THAW BUTTERFLIES

271

Then there are the "Comma," the "Semicolon," and
the Atlanta, or the Red Admiral, so familiar to all our
young butterfly collectors — all members of the same
sturdy group known as the " angle-wings." As late as
the middle of October, when most caterpillars, like the
Cecropia and Prometheus, have tucked themselves away
in their snug silken winter- quarters, you may still find
the last caterpillar broods of these butterflies either
transformed to chrysalids, or feeding upon their various
food plants. But their gilded chrysalids are rarely con-
tent so to remain for more than two weeks, the severe
frosts of late October only seeming to hasten their ea-
gerness to be on the wing. It is true there is little \
invitation in the way of blossoms for honey-sippers
now; but the cider-presses are running, and the whole
family of angle-wings, it must be confessed, would
disdain acres of bloom for one good sip of apple-
jack. Go to the pomace heap at the
cider-press, and you may pick them up
in your fingers perfectly passive in con-
tentment. In the orchard, the brown,
frozen apples offer a similar bait ; and in
the wood-pile the fermented juice of the ex-
uding sap from the freshly-cut logs tempts
the same appetite — a "nightcap," possibly —
the necessity for which is foreseen by the
butterfly in view of that long, cold sleep
which it has chosen to take in its winged
state rather than in the chrysalis, which is
the choice of most of its kind.

When the biting chill of November ush-
ers in the winter, you will look in vain for
your angle-wings ; that is, unless you look

in the right place.
Even then it is ten
to one that you will
not find them; for,
though your eyes
may be resting upon
them, you will hard-
ly recognize those
faded brown or gray
scaly chips as the
bright sylphs of the
autumn sunshine. Their wings are
folded on their backs, concealing the
color, and the dull surface now ex-
posed is in such perfect harmony with their present
dingy surroundings as to conceal all suggestion of their
animate existence. Where, then, shall we look for
them ? A butterfly hunt in midwinter ! Hundreds of
the Antiopa have been found hanging in a single crevice
between the boards of a shed, falling to the earth like
bark scales when dislodged. They are found beneath
loose clapboards and shingles, and the crannies in the
hay- barracks beneath the conical roof are a favorite
haunt for their hibernation. I have seen a small brood
of them sunning themselves around an opening in such
a barrack-mow; and once, in tearing away a slab of bark
from an old stump, two or three of this same "yellow

THE THAW BUTTERFLIES

273

edge " tribe fell out upon the snow, like so many inan-
imate scales of bark.

Any one of these angle-wing butterflies may be kept
in domestication through the winter months, becoming
very tame and familiar, and forming a pretty feature of
the conservatory, or even the window-garden.

THE FLUTTER
FROM THE TULIP-TREE

January 26th

A.LKING through the woods on our way
home we observe the snow here and
there sprinkled with brown paddle-
shaped objects about an inch and a half
in length, which at first glance appear to
be the seeds of the ash previously described. But upon
examination we see that they are of an entirely new
model, having a heavy and blunt curved extremity.

One of them is to be seen in my windrow of seeds
on page 282. To one familiar with the woods these
paddle seeds offer a temptation not to be withstood.
Somewhere near by we may confidently look for the
lofty tulip-tree, where the remnant seed-broods are still
nestling by the thousands in their mimic cup or cone-
shaped clusters at the tips of the branches, each bringing

THE FLUTTER FROM THE TULIP-TREE

275

to mind the orange-spotted yellow magnolia-tulips of
last July. One glimpse of them is enough for me — a
challenge which I never permit to pass unhonored. The
nearest club or stick or stone is soon flying up among
the branch-tips, and what a mazy, whirling, dizzy, dan-
cing response is mine in the flying cloud which follows!

SNOW-QUAKES AND THE SNOW-QUAKER

January 26th

^E of the most welcome occasional companions
of the winter walker is the gray squirrel. On
almost any genial day we are sure of him if
our eyes are sharp enough, and our manners
sufficiently decorous. His eccentric doings are written
in his footprints everywhere upon the new-fallen snow,
connecting tree with tree, and keeping one's eyes ever
on the lookout for the whisking tail.

At our approach he has leaped upon a convenient
trunk, and suspended himself head downward, unwink-
ing and motionless, with brush laid flat against the
bark. But not for long. If we wait with sufficient pa-
tience, the nervous loop of that tell-tail will soon show
us his whereabouts, and in a moment more we see him
bounding with graceful curves across the snow, every
subtle motion of his beautiful body accentuated as nev-
er before, in its contrast against the white carpet.

His summer companion, the chickaree, or red squir-
rel, is still curled up in its semi-hibernating sleep, or
perhaps has taken a peep at the white world without
from its hole in the tree, or a nibble from its convenient
frozen apple or nut in the crotch above. But we rarely

\ •"
, , 1 •

see him in those winter
days when the gray spe-
cies is quite generally
abroad.

We can hardly suppose
that our gray rover is out
freezing his toes merely
for enjoyment. If we
observe his doings close-
ly, we may soon discover
that a more urgent mis-
sion animates his being.

*^>^>v

2/8 SHARP EYES

The red squirrel, aloft in his den, sets an example of
providence which his bigger gray neighbor has persist-
ently ignored. Every day last autumn he might have
been seen packing away his provender of nuts, apples,
etc., into secret chinks and crannies high above ground
against the coming snow-bound days. The gray squirrel
has doubtless had the benefit of much of his wisdom,
but it is doubtful whether he has taken his hint even to
the extent of a hazel-nut. These winter outings, there-
fore, are not primarily for pleasure, but for dire neces-
sity. Let us observe our squirrel carefully. There he
goes in graceful bounds across the snow, his sensitive
plumy tail in every movement expressive of its homage
to the line of beauty. Now he pauses and seems to
scent the snow-flakes, and in a moment more, evidently
satisfied with his bearings, he begins to burrow like a
woodchuck, and is soon lost to sight. Now he reap-
pears at the mouth of the burrow with a pine-cone in
his teeth, and in the tree-top near by he quickly extracts
its seeds while the cone scales litter the snow beneath.

"Wonderful sagacity this! How did he spot that
cone so accurately through six inches or a foot of
snow?" So exclaims the ordinary observer. So ex-
claimed the present writer on more than one occasion,
until at last the true significance of the episode was
revealed.

My squirrel on this occasion, which I can hardly con-
sider exceptional, had already brought one cone from
the hole and devoured its seeds. He then descended
from his tree, and procured another. But did he dis-
cover it through the snow, and dig as above described?
Not at all. He entered the burrow, and soon appeared
with his second cone. Were there then two cones at

SNOW-QUAKES AND THE SNOW-QUAKER 2/Q

this one spot ? I queried ; and those suggestive scales
yonder, from perhaps a dozen cones, which strewed the
snow, had these, too, all chanced to fall at this partic-
ular place beneath the snow ? Drawing closer to the
scene of action, the mystery of this " wonderful saga-
city" was solved, the opening of the burrow being but
a convenient door-way to a system of snow burrows
extending for several feet on all sides, the crust up-
heaved and cracked here and there in broken mounds,
each of which probably marked the scene of discovery
and struggle with a cone.

Whatever may be said of the comparative provident
sagacity of the red and the gray squirrels, it must be
admitted that the snow-quaker fairly earns his Christ-
mas dinner.

WINTER GRIST FOR THE BIRDS

February 2d

L *v

WEED has been described by Emerson
as " a plant whose virtues have not been
discovered," and it must be confessed that
many of them fail to show any good reason for
|^ their existence until the secret is disclosed in

\£ their dried and brown skeletons against the
.A , snow. There is the pretty ragweed, for instance
,* (Ambrosia), figured on page 44. Who has ever
said anything good of it? Its copious pollen is
accused of being the provoking cause of hay-fever. Even
Burroughs, who certainly might have been expected to
discover some redeeming trait in the weed, only heaps
ignominy upon it. "Ambrosia, ' food for the gods,' " he
says. " It must be the food of the gods if of anything,
for, as far as I have observed, nothing terrestrial eats it,
not even a billy-goat."

It is certainly delightful food for the eye, with its
finely-cut, graceful summer foliage and long tapering

spires of greenish bloom ; but it is in the dried and leaf-
less winter stalks of this and a number of other weeds
that we find the best reason for their being. What
could the birds tell us? How would the winter bunt-
ings, sparrows, finches, and snow-birds bridge over the
snow-bound days were it not for this garner of seeds
which the weeds hold above the snow ?

Generally speaking, the seeds of a plant are supposed
to be released upon maturity. We all know how speed-
ily the wind takes care of the dandelion and thistle
seeds when the plant has completed their education.

Autumn scatters showers
of seeds of all kinds with
every breeze ; but the
meadows are full of know-
ing weeds that refuse to give
up their grist ; and though a few
grains are occasionally wrenched
from them, they still hold a gen-
erous share for the white days
when the hungry winter birds
will surely need them.

It is very interesting to go
through a sloping or undulating
meadow after a snowfall, and es-
pecially after a snowfall that has
been followed by a wind. The
snow is peppered with meadow-
crumbs dislodged by the gale.
If by chance there should
be a glassy crust on the
snow, we may sample al-
most the entire grist of
the meadow, swept up
into windrows and gath-
ered into bins and pock-
ets. All the little hollows
and gullies and chinks
and crannies of the un-
even snow are full of the crumbs. And
what queer crumbs they are, too! Here
is a little wavy line, looking like brown
chaffy powder or fine sawdust, with occasional larger
grains intermixed. It follows along for quite a distance

WINTER GRIST FOR THE BIRDS 283

on the snow at the foot of the steep, white, weedy slope.
It is well worth our while to study it closely. Each
handful of the powder swept up at random will have a
surprise in store for us. Darwin it was, I believe, who
coaxed quite a number of foreign plants from the dirt
scraped from the foot of a migrating wild-
duck. What a garden might we not get
next year from a pinch of this meadow
snuff, or from a ball of mud rolled in it for
only a moment ! Not a foreign garden, it
is true, but perhaps a beautiful one, never-
theless.

Let us see what we might expect, for we
can tell pretty nearly what it would be,
though we may be sure that it would in-
clude a fair number of plants which only the
birds care anything about. I have shown
a few of these crumbs which the windrow
would give us — some of them only occa-
sionally, and others in great quantity. I am
sure that few of my younger readers
will remember ever having seen such
queer-looking things on the snow or
anywhere else, but I can assure them
that these are but a few of the pre-
cious packages which may be found
in the winter fields, and each one of
them is as good as a whole plant to
the eye of a botanist. There is no
mistaking where they come from.

Let us turn our powerful magnify ing-glass upon each
in turn as it may be necessary. Here is No. I, a turtle-
shaped seed beset with bristles. This is from the wild

284 SHARP EYES

carrot, that manages to hold a generous remnant of
seeds in its withered nest all winter. No. 2 needs no
magnifying- glass, being a large hairy burr, nearly the
size of a hazel-nut, and armed with cruel thorns, a seed
of the hedgehog grass, and not a pleasant thing to han-
dle. No. 3 we all recognize as the same two-pronged
"beggar-tick" that is so fond of our clothes in the late
summer. No. 4 is the urn-shaped kernel of the ragweed.
No. 5, the large samara of the elm, though you will find
few of them in the winter. No. 6, a pine seed. No. 7,
a buttercup seed. No. 8, with its rough conical body
and fine-toothed crown, is the pretty seed of the sneeze-
weed, which certainly deserves a place among our mead-
ow snuff. No. 9 has come from a sedge. No. 10 was
blown from the ash -tree, perhaps half a mile away.
No. 1 1 will be remembered as another of those friendly
"beggar-ticks." No. 12 was once in the centre of a
may- weed blossom. No. 13 is one of that fluttering
swarm from the seed cone of the tulip-tree. In No. 14
we have the dainty packet which holds the seed treas-
ure of the pig-weed. The tooth-crowned fruit of cich-
ory is shown at 15; a wingless milk-weed seed at 16;
that of the smart-weed at 17. And we leave the read-
er to guess at the long line of other representatives
from grasses and sedges and other sources ; and, like
my little flock of birds, to take his pick among them.

CURIOUS SPECKS ON
THE SNOW

Mv

f

February gth

INTER weeds and their wind-blown grist
for the hungry birds are responsible for
many curious specks on the snow, as we
observed last week, but there are two
forms of peppered snow which the win-
ter walker occasionally meets with, and
which have plainly no connection with weed or
copse, for they are found on the lawn, or in the
•open meadow, or in the woods where no weeds are
seen above the snow, and occasionally in such quan-
tities as to cause some wonder about their source.
> There are those queer tiny mimic birds, for in-

286 SHARP EYES

stance. Go where you will in the snowy woods, espe-
cially after a wind, and their flocks would seem to fol-
low you, though without the snow to serve as their
background no one ever sees them.

In an open winter their existence would never be
suspected ; but now we see their myriad flocks soaring
over the drifts, with their tiny wings fully spread and
tail expanded like diminutive hawks, floating above the
white field.

I have said that they are everywhere to be seen, and
this is really quite among the possibilities, for the wind
is a most thorough sower ; but it must be confessed
that when we find the snow literally peppered with
them, we may know that there is a birch-tree close by,
for the birches are responsible for this winged brood.
More than once have I been asked to identify this tiny
mimic bird by those who need only have reached the
drooping branch of the birch in the woods to have put
a million of them to flight towards the snow. So con-
stant and pronounced a feature of the winter are they
that it is impossible for me to think of the snowy woods
without recalling them, and I do so now to satisfy what
I know must have been a frequent wonder on the part
of many a winter walker who shall chance to read this
page, and also to direct attention to those curious pen-
dent nests where they have been so snugly brooded all
these months.

The white-birch-trees during the winter season are
seen to be hanging full of catkins. These are of two
kinds, the more numerous of them being quite large and
full, the others confined in groups of two or three at
the branch tips. The latter are the true catkins — winter
parcels done up ready for the coming spring. April will

see them all shaken out into
dangling tassels of blossoms
several inches in length. But

\ •>• •

the other dark brown cones
have already seen their catkin
days. They were blossoms
last spring. But they are
now firm and rigid and reso- , •

lute on their stalks, their only

thought being to spread the white counterpane with
manna for the birds, and to fill the woods full of birch-
trees ; for each one of these fruiting catkins contains
certainly a thousand seeds packed away with wonderful
art, and here is where we find the mimic birds, each
with its brood of two or three of the light-brown seeds
beneath its wings.

This innocent-appearing catkin is well worth our care-
ful examination. I never go into the woods
in winter without stopping to admire its little
hocus-pocus, for it is a pretty piece of jugglery.
How firm and compact it seems as it hangs
upon its stem ! But it is laughing at our sim-

'

288

SHARP EYES

plicity. Only as much as shake the twig, or, what is
better, give the cone a pinch at its tip, and see how
quickly it takes the hint to be off. Firm and compact
indeed! In the continuous disintegrating shower that
follows, and which leaves nothing but a short, stiff stem,
we may well wonder at the trick that has so long kept
the cone together.

The secret has been held by the sentinel at the tip
of the cone. When he once opens the door the entire
troop takes flight.

On examination it will be
seen that these birdlike
scales and light-brown, filmy
seeds have been arranged in
circles and tiers around a cen-
tral stem or core to which
they were once joined. In
ripening they have become
free, and are then held in
their compact shape only by
contact and pressure, the whole
elastic mass being locked by
the hard scale at the tip. Let
this or any other part be-
come dislodged, the structure
crumbles away.

And this is how the snow

becomes peppered with the tiny birds. But these are
not the seeds ; these we rarely see, even in winter. The
scales being the heavier, fall near the trees, while the
light, filmy-winged seeds are blown to the ends of the
earth.

SNOW-FLEAS

February gth

NE of the strangest of all specks on
snow is the snow-flea — ^no mimic
flea, but an actual living and very
lively midget, whose swarms some-
times cover the snow in patches as
black as ink, or convert large spaces
of its surface to a dark-gray color. Like my
hibernating butterflies, they, too, are creatures
of the thaw. Almost any bright and genial day
in winter invites them to an outing. I have
seen patches two feet in diameter moving like a
dark shadow across the meadow, and I remember once,
when a boy, walking on the snow-crust over a field of
several acres that was everywhere peppered with their
millions. The books tell us that the insects live in moss
and lichens on the rocks and bark of trees, from which
they emerge for exercise in mild weather. This theory
is probably warranted by the facts, but it will be no easy
task so to convince many a rustic philosopher whom I
know, and to whom these fleas are as much a celestial
shower as the snow itself. I have talked with several
rural authorities on the subject, and have obtained some
facts which may well puzzle the scientists. " It's all easy

290

SHARP EYES

enough to say they come from the trees and rocks," says
Enoch, "but thar's my five-acre meddy yonder, it's un-

der two feet of snow, and they ain't a rock or a tree on
it, ner in a half-mile on't, and yet it's all alive with 'em.
I tell ye, them as sez they come from trees and rocks

SNOW-FLEAS 29!

don't know wut they are talkin' about. Why, I've seen
'em cum down a-ridin' on the snow-flakes !"

I am sorry that I cannot give an accurate picture of
the mysterious flea. Once, when a boy, I made a draw-
ing from one by the aid of a magnifying-glass, but it
was lost, and I can only give a suggestion of it from
memory.

.

THE CURIOUS BASKET-CARRIERS

February i6th

E must not let the winter pass with-

C" i \ / 4t; \ out gathering a few of the cocoons
I i I {• / of the basket-carriers, or bag-worms.
There are many kinds of cocoons
to be found in winter, and all sorts
of beautiful moths come out of them, but there are
few such queer specimens as this of the bag-worm,
with its array of sticks and leaves and thatch of vari-
ous sorts; and you may be sure it has a surprise in
store for you next spring, if you have not yet learned
its secret. It is only necessary to gather a dozen or so,
and place them in a box and await further developments.
I shall never forget my first experience with them.
It was one winter early in my boyhood. A larch-tree
in front of my city home was dangling full of the stick-

THE CURIOUS BASKET-CARRIERS 2Q3

covered baskets, then seen by me for the first time, and
a rarity in these parts. I gathered a hundred or more,
and coveted all the rest that hung beyond my reach.
I placed them in a box, and no one but myself knows
how I longed for spring to come, in anticipation of that
wonderful moth that was to have the place of honor in
my collection. Surely, I thought, something extraor-
dinary must come from such a very queer cocoon ; and
my suspicions were more than verified, for it was in
truth a singular progeny that greeted me one morning
in June, when I went to take my daily look at the box
of cocoons.

All over the cover and sides of the box, the mantel-
piece on which it rested, the walls, and the ceiling, were
thousands and thousands of little parti -colored specks,
wriggling and turning all sorts of queer antics in puz-
zling confusion, and hanging and squirming in webby
festoons on all sides.

As soon as my surprise was over I began to investi-
gate the matter a little more closely. The animated
specks consisted of cases or baskets about an eighth of
an inch in length, each of which was occupied by a lively
little tenant, which, on being pulled out of its house,
showed itself to be a tiny black caterpillar, with a very
intellectual head, this portion being about one- fourth
the size of the entire creature. On opening the box, its
interior was found to be literally alive with the little
fellows ; and as I examined them closely, I noticed a

294

SHARP EYES

marked difference in the color of their diminutive cases.
Some were pure white, others were buff-colored ; some
were bright blue, others variously tinted ; and one was
red, white, and blue. This little individual
appealed to my patriotic sentiment, and I
took him to the window to get a closer look
at his domicile. Until that moment it had
not occurred to me to examine the material
of their tiny baskets. I went back to the
box. I had previously noticed a mottled
appearance in its interior, but it had not es-
pecially interested me. It now became a
matter of more significance.

The box was made of common straw
board covered with white paper, and at its
upper edge, inside, were attached two loose
pieces of blue paper, which formerly had
covered the articles packed within — can-
dles, I believe. The white paper had
been worn through in spots by the
myriad pairs of little teeth, and with
the bits of fibre thus obtained, and
by the aid of the silk web, of which
the caterpillars seemed to have an
inexhaustible supply, a countless
number of baskets had been made.
The mottled effect of the interior of
the box was caused by the yellow
straw board appearing in spots where
the covering paper had been gnawed away.
This yellow board had again been utilized by several of
the caterpillar babies, who preferred more highly col-
ored homes, and the blue paper was riddled with holes

THE CURIOUS BASKET-CARRIERS 2Q5

by the immense demand made upon it for building-ma-
terial. Near by, on the mantel, was a pile of books, in-
cluding one old leather-covered volume, from which a
fragment of red blotting-paper protruded. Both the
leather and the blotter had been largely utilized in the
baskets, the soft quality of the red paper having made
it very popular among the little architects, many of
which occupied conspicuously gaudy apartments. It
was from this blotting-paper that the patriotic speci-
men above alluded to obtained the red material which
surrounded his door -way — the white and blue bands
having been built within the box.

Nor were these all the materials which the builders
had laid under tribute. A green worsted mat, a red
napkin, the black paper of a passe partont frame, had
all furnished their share in the motley acrobatic pro-
cession that moved about the apartment.

A repetition of this singular show is within the reach
of any one who cares to witness it, and there is no end
to the experiments that may be tried as to building-ma-
terials, for the industrious little builders will make use
of anything within their reach in their haste to begin
house -keeping. Almost the moment they crawl from
the cocoon they begin to erect their houses ; and when
we consider how little experience they must have had,
their skill and dexterity are indeed surprising. Singu-
larly enough, like true architects, the arch would seem
to have especial attractions, as a foundation, but further
than this their methods are their own. Professor C. V.
Riley, our Government entomologist, has carefully de-
scribed the process which follows, and I have taken the
liberty of copying his little panorama, which illustrates
the knack of the tiny builder and the growth of its case,

296 SHARP EYES

for every one of these thousands of bag-worm babes
have followed the same plans and specifications. The
tiny inverted arch is first built. When this has reached
nearly to the height of its body, the caterpillar grasps
it with its feet and turns a somersault, thus bringing
the arch uppermost. The builder then carefully turns
beneath it, and upon regaining its feet proceeds to add
to the structure on the lower edges until a complete
ring is formed around its body, when, by adding tier
on tier of chips, the bag is soon completed. My swarm
above described, showed thousands of the houses in all
these stages of progress.

But where was my moth? I waited for it in vain.
And no wonder; for upon dissecting the cocoons, I
could find no chrysalis from which I could expect a
moth. Many of the cocoons were entirely empty, and
the others contained only a chrysalis shell filled with
eggs and a peculiar fuzz. This will be found to be the
contents of the cocoons which we may now gather from
the trees. But there is a moth — not such as we might
select as the prize of our collection, it is true — a small,
black- bodied, clear- winged, buzzing, bumblebee affair,
whose only ambition in life would seem to be to bump
its head against everything in its reach. This is the
male moth. It was years before I could ever find the
female, partly because I had gathered the cocoons at
the wrong season, and partly because my powers of ob-
servation had not been sufficiently trained. Lest other
youthful entomologists may become puzzled like myself
over this very singular insect, I may mention that both
sexes of the moth are to be found in the cocoons gath-
ered in September. At this time the full-grown cater-
pillars suspend their baskets, and are transformed into

THE CURIOUS BASKET-CARRIERS

297

chrysalides. The male chrysalis works its way out at
the lower end of the cocoon, and its shell falls out after
the escape of the moth. The female moth never leaves
the cocoon — she is hardly entitled to the name of moth,
being both wingless and legless ; and after having de-
posited several hundred eggs within her pupa case, few
would recognize in the inconspicuous remnant of her-
self which remains any likeness to an insect.

Few of our common
insects have been such
a theme for discussion
and controversy among
naturalists as the bag-
worm; and there is much
of interest in the life of
the insect which it is im-
possible to touch upon
in this brief paper.

The basket-carrier •» '
never leaves its case.
It carries its house
about in its travels, enlarg-
ing and decorating it with
sticks and leaves as its whim di-
rects, and always keeping it safe-
ly moored to the branches. A

collection of the cases from different food trees makes
a singular exhibition, for they are thatched with locust,
hemlock, spruce, arbor-vitae, or long pine-needles, ac-
cording to the plant on which each is found. In the
South, we are told, these basket-carriers are looked upon
with much superstition by the colored natives, the nat-
ure of which is illustrated in the incident narrated by

298 SHARP EYES

Dr. McCook of a darky laborer's refusal to burn a lot
of the cocoons, with which his master's trees had been
infested: "I can't do it, sah ! I done got conscience agin
it. Dem's what we call ' firewood billies,' an' dey is nuf-
fin mo' nur less dan human critters what's a-bin pun-
ished fer stealin' wood wen dey wuz alive an' in de
body."

HOUSE -CARRIERS UNDER WATER

February 2jd

«AST week we made the acquaintance of
those queer house-carriers of the trees,
the bag-worms, with their thatched and
ornamented cocoons now firmly swung
among the winter twigs. But there is
another house-builder that few of us ever
see in its home — the caddis. He lives
on the pebbly bottom of the stream or the shallows of
the pond. Even as we stood upon the black ice at the
edge of the dam, gathering our bag-worms last week, we
need only have lain down upon the ice and looked be-
neath to have seen our caddis crawling upon the bot-
tom, leisurely lugging its stone cottage or log- cabin
around with him. But who would ever think of going
"bug-hunting" in winter? This stream, locked fast and
muffled in ice, or bubbling beneath the snow-drift, its
overhanging icy border fringe crowding close upon the
ripples in the intense cold, would hardly invite the en-
tomologist as a likely field for specimens. The city nat-
uralist who happens to keep an aquarium knows with
what difficulty he can keep it stocked in the winter
months if he would depend alone upon the dealers in
aquarium supplies. A few lizards, polliwogs, and gold-

300

SHARP EYES

fish are almost their only stock in trade at this season,
with perhaps a fine show of green moss in bunches,
picked in the woods, which "looks pretty" under water.
" But I want some plants, snails, water-beetles, and craw-
fish," I said to such a dealer, recently. "Oh, you can't
get anything of that kind now, you know," he replied.
"They're all dead or froze up. We'll have plenty of
'em in the spring."

Nevertheless, the film of ice over the
pond or stream need be no barrier to
the winter naturalist. The mud at the
borders of the bank holds a lively har-
vest, and does not seem to
care a snap for the seasons.
One good scoop with a
strong net will sometimes
bring up a veritable summer
haul of specimens — fish,
frogs, water-beetles, lizards,
water-boatmen, dragon larvae, and
occasionally a dainty case of the
caddis, resembling one of the group
which I have here picked from

;/

HOUSE-CARRIERS UNDER WATER

301

yonder pool and laid upon the snow. I have a number
of these cases before me as I write, and they are really
beautiful works of insect art. As a rule, each species of
caddis is true to some particular whim in building or in
the choice of materials for its domicile. Here are two
individuals that seem to have taken a hint from the
bag-worm, and think there is nothing to compare with
sticks and leaves. Their cases are about an inch and a
half long. Another has carefully selected tubular pieces
of floating grass stems or straws, enlarging the tube as
its growth requires by slitting up the side and fitting in

a strip of new material ; afterwards, perhaps, decorating
the exterior with a few stray chips or pebbles.

But the most interesting of all are the dwellings of
the stone-builders, actual mosaic tubes of carefully-
selected pebbles, all joined edge to edge, and neatly
closed at the rear opening by a nicely- fitted pebble
of larger size. And one there is, the glassy abode of
the smaller caddis, a perfect marvel of mosaic art. A
small, slightly curved tube about three-quarters of an
inch in length (shown directly above the stick case in

302

SHARP EYES

the illustration), the crystal palace of the most exquisite
and gifted artist among all the caddis fraternity. The
tube is composed of minute, glassy, flat pebbles, joined

edge to edge with the most skilful exactness, and is
often so transparent that when wet the form of the
dweller may be seen through its wall. Here may the
human worker in stained-glass find his matchless model.
An artist, too, that accomplishes his task without resort
to metal frame or solder, the edges of his glass being
joined by some insoluble cement of which he holds the
secret.

The art of the bag-worm appears almost commonplace

HOUSE-CARRIERS UNDER WATER 303

by the side of this rare product. With its ready re-
serve of silk it is an easy matter for the bag-worm to
weave a mere pouch, while the further attachment of
the sticks and leaves is mere pastime; but what shall we
say of the intelligence that gleans among the pebbles
beneath the water, constructing a mosaic tube about its
body, even in the current of the stream ? This is what
the caddis larva does. As in the bag- worm, this case
of the caddis serves as a protection against its enemies;
and while the basket -carriers in the trees are keeping
an eye out for the birds, dodging into their case and
literally " pulling the hole in after them," or drawing
it close against a twig, on the approach of the enemy,
the caddis is continually on the alert for hungry prowl-
ing fish that know a tidbit when they see it. The
number of empty shells to be found in every caddis
pool would seem to show that the fish know all about
caddis. I was once greatly amused at the sly arts of a
tiny rockfish in my aquarium that soon left nothing but
empty shells to show for my caddis and my snails. His
plan of operation was to steal up from behind as the
unsuspecting victim was regaling itself in the water, and
with a sudden dash grasp the head of his prey, when,
after a vigorous shake and determined grip, the shell
was released, and the victorious fish retired to its corner
among the pondweed to think which of the two yonder
— snail or caddis — it would rather have for supper.

I have said that few of us ever see the caddis in its
home. And yet he is an old acquaintance with most of
us. There are few summer evenings when he does not
make himself perfectly at home around our "evening
lamp " in the country, that brown, circling, moth-like in-
sect, with steep -sloping wings, and such a powerfully

304

SHARP EYES

strong odor, being in truth the perfected product of
these tube-cases beneath the water.

A collection of caddis cases makes a very interesting
exhibit. I have shown a group of six foreign species,
but it is possible that any one of them may yet reward
our search in our native pools. I have found three
specimens that closely resemble some of them.

THE WHIRLIGIG WATER-BEETLE

March 2d

IBERNATION is the law among the in-
sects which survive the winter; but, there
is a notable exception, they are not all
asleep. Indeed, if I were asked to name
the sprightliest bit of life to be found in
all the winter landscape, I think my choice
would have to be, not the mouse, nor chickadee, nor
even the hare, but a little dweller in the pond or brook,
one of the lively brood that we brought up in our net
last week as we dredged in the mud for our aquarium —
the little black whirligig-beetle known as the Gyrinus.
Had we approached the bank more cautiously, we need
only have skimmed the surface of the water to have
captured a whole family of them.

It is apparently summer all the year round to the
Gyrinus. They take little account of the changes in
the calendar, and I fancy their idea of the seasons must
be summed up simply as "green summer" and "white
summer." The caterpillars and thaw butterflies, grass-
hoppers, and other insects which we find in the freez-
ing winter days are numb and stiff with the cold, but
there is no numbness nor stiffness known to these little
black bodies that whirl in their maze of ripples in many
an opening in the ice along the edge of the pond.

Seen thus in early March, the
observer is apt to look upon them
as eager heralds of spring, perhaps
the first signs of returning life in
animated nature. I have somewhere
read of the early appearance of the Gyrinus being in-
stanced as a sign of an .advanced spring, but the infer-
ence is gratuitous. We may look for him almost any
moderate winter's day ; certainly, at least, any genial
day that could tempt us out-of-doors has seen him
there before us. Their whirling swarms have surprised
many a winter walker — even Thoreau, who has
much to say of them. In his notes of January
**j 24, 1858, he writes:

^ "At Nut Meadow Brook the small-

sized water-bugs are as abundant
and active as in summer. I see
forty or fifty circling together

THE WHIRLIGIG WATER-BEETLE 307

in the smooth and sunny bays all along the brook.
This is something new to me. They seem to be more
ready than usual to dive to the bottom when disturbed.
At night, of course, they dive to the bottom and bury
themselves, and if in the morning they perceive no cur-
tain of ice drawn over their sky, and the pleasant weath-
er continues, they gladly rise again and resume their
gyrations. I think I never noticed them more numer-
ous. What a funny way they have of going to bed !
They do not take a light and go up-stairs ; they go be-
low. Suddenly it is heels up and heads down, and they
go to their muddy bed, and let the unresting stream
flow over them in their dreams.

" Sometimes they seem to have a little difficulty in
making the plunge. Maybe they are too dry to slip
under. Suppose you were to trace the course of one
for a day, what kind of a figure would it make ? I see
one chasing a mote, and the wave the creature makes
always causes the mote to float away from it. I would
like to know what it is they communicate to one an-
other ; they, who appear to value each other's society
so much. How many water-bugs make a quorum ?
Where did they get their backs polished so ?"

It is true, as Thoreau says, that they do not take a
candle and go up-stairs to bed as some bigger folks do ;
but if he supposed that they went to bed without a
light, he little knew the bug he describes, for they carry
a brilliant lantern that goes gleaming like a silver streak
down into the depths ; for when those little " heels go
up " a bubble of air is caught beneath the tips of the
black wing-covers, and a diamond of pure sunlight ac-
companies their course down among the weeds until
they once more ascend to the surface. Indeed, this

bubble gives them a buoy-
ancy which only their con-
tinued downward efforts can
overcome. It is only by cling-
ing with their long front
legs to the submerged plants
that they are able to remain be-
neath the surface. No amount
of soaking ever seems to wet
their polished armor. When they
emerge to take up their circling
dance, they are apparently as dry as the
labelled specimen in the cabinet.

There is, of course, a certain limit
of temperature at which the whirligig
beetle draws the line in its winter
gambols, but I have never tested it with a
thermometer. I know that I have seen them
when my ears were tingling, and have paused
while skating to study their rapid circling, when
the black water at the edge of the ice was all atan-
gle with their ripples. At such a time, if we steal close
upon them, it is amusing to note the sudden "heels up
and heads down" with which the swarm dives to the
depths below. Nor can you surprise them so quickly
that they will forget their bubbles, even though they
spatter the water quite briskly and make an audible
clicking of their wings in their haste to be off.

THE WHIRLIGIG WATER-BEETLE 309

These insects are not " bugs," as Thoreau inadver-
tently implies, but true beetles, and, moreover, beetles
endowed with resources far above the average of their
kind. Most beetles are content with existence in one
element, but the Gyrinus is equally at home in air or
water as the whim takes him. His hard polished back
conceals two gauzy wings which can be spread in a
twinkling, giving him all the agility of a fly upon the
wing, and which occasionally bring him in among the
buzzing throng around " our evening lamp," while his
peculiar equipment in the paddle- shaped feet of the
two nether pairs of legs gives him the lead in the race
among all the insect swimmers under the water. This
remarkable adaptability to a dual mode of existence
is further strikingly emphasized in the peculiar endow-
ment of vision. The whirligig-beetle has two distinct
sets of eyes ; one large pair of goggles beneath its
head, with which it commands a continual view of its
lacustrine haunts while floating or circling on the sur-
face of the water ; and another pair on the lookout
above — how keenly alert we all know, who have seen
the whirling swarm dive with their bubbles at our cau-
tious approach.

Indeed, were I to search my insect cabinet for the
most appropriate emblem with which to close my pages,
I could scarce find a happier exponent of " Sharp Eyes"
all around the calendar than in our wide-awake, peren-
nial little Gyrinus. ^

ABBOTT, C. C., quoted. Claytonias, 23.

Acorn, germinating, 29.

Agrimony (Agrimonia eupatoria), liook-
ed seeds of, 154.

Ailantus moth (Samia Cynthia) cocoon,
256.

Alder, leaf-rolling beetle of, 104-106.

Ampelopsis. See Virginia-creeper.

Anemone (A. nemorosa), wind-flower, 21.

Angle-wing butterflies, 271.

Animals in motion, photographs of, 251.

Antiopa butterfly. See Butterfly.

Ants, 119.

Aphides, or plant-lice, 119.

Aphis-galls, 60.

Aphis-lion (Hemorobida), 119.

Apples, May, of Azalea viscosa and Po-
dophyllum peltatum, 57 ; false, of An-
dromeda, 60 ; various so-called apples
— cedar, custard, ground, love, oak,
pine, prairie, of Sodom, 57.

Apple-tree moth, egg-band of, 258.

April and April birds, 38.

Aquarium supplies, 299.

Arbutus, trailing (Rpigea repens), 22.

Ash, seeds of, 216, 284.

Asters, seeds of, 173 ; flowers of, at night,
126; various, 227.

Audubon, on the "drum" of the grouse,
42.

Autumn: — Calendar, 177-243; flowers
of, 202 ; piping toads, frogs, and sala-
manders ; bird-notes, 192.

Autumnal streaked warbler, 213.
Azalea (A. viscosa), 57.

BACHELOR'S-BUTTONS, or Blue-bottles
(Centaurea), 126.

" Bagpipe " of the toad, 54.

Bag- worm. See Basket-carriers.

Balsams, garden, leaves at night, 126.
See Jewel-weed.

Baltimore oriole (Icterus Baltimore), 224.

Basella flower, pollen of, 115.

Basket - carrying caterpillars (Psyche),
292-298; Southern superstition con-
nected with, 298.

Basswood. See Linden.

Bean, various leaves of.at night, 126; bean
family, clinging seeds of, 153 ; wild-
bean, underground pods of, 165-167.

Bed straw. — Cleavers, 154.

Bee bread, pollen ingredients of ; queer
fruits from the bee's basket, 112-116.

Beech-nuts, sprouting of, 29.

Bee, honey ; abroad in March, 1-3, 19 ;
its dual motives in visiting flowers, 112;
entrapped by milk-weed blossom, 116;
nest of solitary, 74 ; leaf-cutting, 119.

Beeswax, 112.

Beetles : — Bombardier (Brachinus fu-
;««;«), 73 ; Brazilian, 99; clytus, music
of, 142; crusader, 118; eye-spotted
spring (Elater oculatus), vi ; fiddling,
140 ; girdler (Oncideres cingulatus),
260 ; golden cassida (CassiJa auri-

3I2

chalcea), 99; "green dandy" of the
dog-bane (Eumolpus auratus), 102,
119 ; identification of beetles, 79 ; lady-
birds (Coccinella), 119; leaf -rolling,
weevils of hazel and alder (Attelabus),
104-106 ; rove (Staphylinus), 77 ; use-
ful tail of, 78, 119 ; Saperda, music of,
142, 143 ; other musical species, 33,
138-142; scavenger, 78; snapping
(Elater), vi, 119; stag (Lucanus), iv,
239 ; Thoreau on, 306 ; water (Gyri-
nus), 305 ; remarkable double vision
of, 309 ; "going to bed " with a bub-
ble, 307.

"Beggar-lice." See Hound'stongue.

"Beggar-ticks" (Desmodium), 150-155,
170, 284 ; night attitude of leaves, 125 ;
flowers and seeds of, 153.

Benzoin. See Spice-bush.

Bidens, 150-154.

Bind-weed (Calystegea septum), gold bee-
tle of, 100.

Birch, white, bark in nest, 220 ; sugary
sap of, enticing bees, 2 ; curious seed
catkins of, 286-288 ; seed-scales on
snow, 285-288 ; birch and ash associ-
ated, 217; leaf and Indian arrow-head,
217; broom gall of, 259.

Bird entrapped by a burdock, 197.

Birds : — Of April, 38 ; in winter, food of,
280-284; °f November, 212.

Bird's-nests, materials of, 219-225; vireo,
220 ; cherry-pits, buckwheat shells in,
225; hazel-nuts in, 223; deserted,
used as winter resorts, 230.

Bird -songs, imitative of insect songs,
128-131 ; in words, 40.

Bitterweed. See Ragweed, Small.

Black and yellow warbler, 213.

Blackbird : — Crackles, 41 ; redwinged,
song of, 40.

Black snake as a nest hunter, 230.

Black swallow-tail butterfly. See But-
terfly.

Bloodroot {Sanguinaria Canadensis), 21,

Bluebird, 39 ; song of, 40 ; in autumn,
212.

Blue -bottles (Centaurea cyanus), trans-
formation of flowers at night, 126.

Blue lettuce (Afulgedium), seed of, 173.

Blue mud-wasp (Pelopaus), 156.

Blue swallow-tail. See Butterfly.

Bobolinks, migration of, 212.

Bombardier-beetle (Brachinus), 73.

Botany : — Teachers of, among butter-
flies, 80—86 ; lesson from a squirrel,
17 ; practical, 93, 151 ; in a cobweb,
171.

Bower-building caterpillar, 168.

Brewer, the ornithologist, on the " drum"
of the grouse, 42.

Bryant, W. C., quoted. Hepatica, 22;
"painted-cup," 61, 62; drum of the
" partridge," 42 ; fringed gentian, 227;
yellow violet, 20, 21; trailing arbutus,
22 ; birch leaves, 218.

Buckwheat shells in bird's-nest, 225.

Buds, opening, 48 ; various tints of, in
landscape ; leaf arrangement in ; lin-
den and tulip-tree, 49 ; hickory, horse-
chestnut, 50 ; winter, of dogwood, 49,
50.

Bumblebee, a mock, 179.

Bunting, white, 213 ; nest materials of,
224.

Burdock (Lappa major), dew on leaf, 122;
seed of, 155; a trap for birds, 197.

Burr-grass (CencArus), 155, 274.

Burroughs, John, quoted. " April," 38 ;
Robin, 39 ; drum of the grouse, 42 ;
fringed gentian, 227; peeping frogs, 6 ;
early spring flowers, 22, 23 ; ragweed,
280; weeds, 150; whistling salaman-
der, 194.

Burrs, 120, 150-155, 197.

Bush clover (Lespedeza), night attitude
of leaves, 125.

Buttercup, seed of, 284.

313

Butterflies : — Antiopa ( Vanessa Anti-
opa), 34, 270 ; rustling wing of, 32 ;
hibernation of, 270; wing -music of,
30-33, 141 ; caterpillars of, 33 : Ar-
chippus (Danais), 84 ; black swallow-
tail (Asterias), 80 ; caterpillar and
chrysalis of, 82; blue swallow-tail
( Troilus), curious-eyed caterpillar of,
132-134 ; comma, 34, 84, 271 ; Hunt-
er's, petal bower of, 168 ; red admiral
(Pyrameis Atalanta), 34, 270; semi-
colon (Grapta inter rogationis), 34, 84,
271; yellow (Philodice), 84 ; ichneu-
mon parasites of, 200; — Butterflies
as botany teachers, 80-86; tipsy, 271;
winter, 34, 184, 270; winter pets, 273.

Butterfly-net as a companion to a walk,
117.

Button-wood, leaf socket of, 45.

CABBAGE, dew on leaf of, 122.

Caddis, larva of, 299-304; fine mosaic
tenement of, 301; its water-proof ce-
ment, 302 ; enemies of, 303; caddis-fly,
303 ; foreign specimens, 304.

Calico-bush. See Mountain-laurel.

Calla (Calla Ethiopicd), a relative of
skunk-cabbage, 3.

Camberwell beauty. See Butterfly {A nti-
opd).

Cape May warbler. See Warblers.

Cardinal - flower {Lobelia cardinalis),
brilliancy of, 62.

Carnivorous fly, 162, 179-182.

Carrot (Daucus carota), seed of wild, 284.

Cassia. See Partridge-pea.

Catchfly (Silene nutans) flowers at night,
126.

Caterpillars: — Apple-tree web or tent,
258; Vanessa Antiopa, 33; skins of,
in bird's-nest, 22 1 ; basket-carrying
(Psyche ephemera formis), 292-298;
of black swallow-tail butterfly (Papilio
Asterias), 82; of blue swallow-tail

(Papilio Troilus), 132; bower-build-
ers, 168, 169 ; burrowing, 97 ; fungus
growing upon a, 191 ; ichneumon par-
asites of, 67-72, 199; oak (Dryo-
campd), 97 ; puss-moth, with whip-
lashes, 144; span-worm, 118.

Cat -tail (Typha lati folia), seed -down
of, 173-

Cecropia (Platysamia), cocoon of, 253;
moth, 256; parasites of, 71.

Cedar-apple, 57.

Centaury, 226.

Champignon. See Fairy-ring Fungus.

Chemical experiment with scou ring-rush,
Hi.

Cherry-pits in a bird's-nest, 225.

Chestnut-burr, fungus growing upon , 1 88.

Chickadee and willow-cone gall, 208.

Chickaree, 276.

Chickweed, 226 ; blossoms under snow,
210, 227.

Chimney swift, nest materials of, 224.

Chipping-sparrow, nest materials of, 224;
nest of, as a winter nursery, 231.

Chrysalis (Dryocampa) emerging from
ground, 96 ; of Antiopa butterfly, 33 ;
of blue swallow-tail, 134; of Hunter's
butterfly, 169 ; of milk-weed butterfly
(Archippus),%4; fungus growing upon,
190.

Cicada, or harvest-fly ("locust"), drum
°f> 33. X38 ', cicada and " locust" dis-
tinguished, 139.

Cichory (Cichoriuni), seed of, 284; pollen
of, 115.

Claytonia. See Spring Beauty.

Cleavers (Galiuni), clinging seeds of, 154.

Clematis (C. Virginiand), seed of, 172.

Clotbur seeds, 155.

Clover ( Trifoliuni), various night atti-
tudes of leaves, 125, 126; sprouting
seeds of, 29.

Club mosses (Lycopodiuni), explosive
spores of, 146-149.

3H

Cobweb, botany lesson from, 171 ; in
dew, 124; in birds'-nests, 221.

Cockle-seeds, 155.

Cocoons, Platysamia Cecropia and Pro-
metheus, 253 ; winter harvest of, Ce-
cropia, Polyphemus and Prometheus,
parasitic broods from, 67—72 ; ailantus
(Cynthia), 256; of bag-worm, 292;
of tussock-moth in bird's-nest, 221 ;
cocoon clusters on grass-stems, 199.

Colt's-foot. See Wild-ginger.

Comma butterfly. See Butterfly.

Composite, winged seeds of, 171; cling-
ing barbed seeds of, 153.

Cone-gall of willow, 207.

Cones, 207 ; pine (see Pine-cones), spu-
rious, 207.

Convolvulus. See Morning-glory and
Bind-weed.

Coon-hair in bird's-nest, 224.

Coral-winged locust (CEdipoda corallind),

34-

Corn in a bird's-nest, 232.

Cotyledons in seeds, design of, 29.

Cow-bird, 230.

Cranesbill (Geranium maculatum), flow-
ers at night, 126.

Creeping mallow (Malva rotundi folia),
226.

Cricket, white tree (CEcanthus niveus),
119.

Crow in autumn, 212.

Cuckoo, yellow-billed, nest material of,
224.

Cucumber, star (Sicyos angulatus*), pol-
len of, 115.

Custard-apple. See Papaw.

DAISIES, 226.

Dandelion, 38, 202, 226 ; in autumn and
winter, 227 ; feathered seed-balls of,
170; seed, 171 ; seeds in bird's-nest,
221; dwarf (Krigia), beautiful seed
of, 172.

Darwin, allusion to, 282.

Deer-hair in bird's-nest, 224.

Deer-mouse (ffesperomys leucopus), nest
of, 248.

Desmodium, various species, flowers, and
clinging seeds of, 153.

" Devil's coach-horse," 77.

Dew, singular freaks of, on various plants,
122, 124.

Dicentra {Cucullaria), 21.

Dog-bane (Apocynum andros ami foli-
um) and milk-weed, resemblance be-
tween, 85; brilliant beetle of, 102, 119.

Dog-wood, flowering (Cornus florida),
49; expansion of bud to bloom, 50;
the " corn signal," 39.

Dog -wood, poison. See Sumach {R.
venenata.}

Draba. See Whitlow-grass.

Dutchman's -breeches {Dicentra cucul-
laria), 21.

EGGS of apple-tree moth, 258.

Elder, poison. See Sumach (A3, venenata.)

Elm, seed of, 284.

Emerson, R. W., quoted. April's bird,
39 ; weeds, 280 ; Nature study, 246.

Enchanter's nightshade (Circcea luteti-
ana), pollen of, 114; clinging seeds
of, 154-

English plantain. See Plantain.

Equisetum, 107-111. See Scouring-
rush.

Evening primrose (CEnothera biennis),
winter leaf rosettes of, 240, 241 ; pollen
of, 1 14 ; opening of ; daylight moth
tenant of, 135.

Everlasting, dwarf (Antennaria planta-
ginifolia), 21,22; Gnaphalium, cater-
pillar bower of, 168.

Eye, the seeing, 176.

"FAIRY-RING" mushroom, 177; snow
circles, 269.

315

False winter-green. See Polygala.

Fennel-worm. See Butterfly (Asterias).

Field - mouse, tracks of, in snow, 248 ;
wintering in a bird's-nest, 232.

Finch, purple, nest materials of, 224.

Fire - weed (Epilobium angustifolium),
winter rosettes of, 241.

Fire -works from club -mosses in the
woods, 149.

Fish-crow as a nest-hunter, 230.

Flagg, Wilson, quoted. "Drum" of
grouse, 42 ; vireo, 221.

Flicker, or golden-winged woodpecker,
40.

Flowering dog-wood. See Dog-wood.

Flowering winter - green, or Fringed
polygala, 63.

Flowerless plants (A crogens), type of, 107.

Flowers, earliest, 1-3, 19-24; under-
ground, of polygala, 63, 64, and wild-
bean, 165; of autumn, 202; flowers
which are not flowers — painted-cup,
62; dog- wood, 50; flowers without pet-
als never opening (Cleistogarnic), 205;
various, at night, 126-128. See Wild
Flowers.

Fly, a talking, 162-164 ; blue-bottle, in
bird's-nest, 221; carnivorous (Asilus),
164—179; mimic bumblebee {Laph-
ria), 179-182 ; various, in sweep-net,
119.

Fly -catcher, great -crested, snake -skin
nest of, 224.

Flying seeds, 170-174.

Fox-hair in bird's-nest, 224.

Fox-sparrow (Passerella iliaca), 213.

Fragrant sumach(RAusaromatica), 90,94.

Fries, the fungologist, on puff-ball, 177,
187.

Fringed gentian (G. Crinita), flowers at
night, 126; Bryant's allusion to, 227.

Fringed polygala (P.paucifolia), 63.

Frog music, 52, 53 ; European, 6; South-
ern, 55.

Frogs, clucking, 52; Savannah cricket
(Acris crtpitans), 8, 10; peeping (ffy-
lodes Pic keringi),6-i2\ song of, 8; in
autumn, 9, 194 ; tree, 9; wood, 52, 194;
toy decoy ("locust") for mimicry of,
52 ; mimicry of song, 9, 52, 194.

Frost-weed (ffeliantfamum), 210.

Fruit, an underground, 165—167.

Fungus : — Cedar-apple, 57 ; fairy ring,
177; growing on insects, 190, 191 ; va-
rious speciesof, 187-191; myriad spores
of, 187 ; method of vegetation, 177.

GAI.INSOGA, beautiful seed of, 172.

Galls : — Aphis, 60 ; cone, of willow, 207;
rose, of willow, 209; of golden-rod,
257; oak-apple, 57 ; various, 208, 257;
witch - brooms, 259 (see also May-
apple, 58; and false May-apple, 60.)

Garlic flower, pollen of, 115.

Gentian, fringed (Gentiana crinita), 126,
227 ; closed (<7. Andrewsii), 228.

Geranium, wild, or Cranesbill, 126.

Gerarde and his "rose-willow," 209.

Germination : — Maple, 4, 5, 25-29 ; oak,
clover, and beech, 25-29.

Ginger, wild (Asarum Canadensis), 21.

Ginseng, dwarf (Aralia tri folia), 65.

Girdler-beetle (Oncideres), 260.

Gnat-catcher, blue-gray, nest materials
of, 224.

Gnats in sweep-net. 119.

Golden-beetle {Cassida aurichalcea), 99.

Golden-crested thrush. See Oven-bird.

Golden-crested wren, nest materials of,
224.

Golden-rod (Solidagd), 202, 226 ; bulb-
ous, gall of, 257 ; musical beetles of,
142; seeds of, 173.

Goose-grass. See Cleavers.

Gossamers and dew, 124.

Crackles, 41.

Grass, blades of, marking on snow, 268.

Grasshopper : — Meadow (Orchelimum

INDEX

vulgare), song of, 129, 138 ; a bird-mimic
of song, 1 28— 131; cone-head (Conoceph-
alus ensiger), song of, 138; Grasshop-
per music, 33; "Grasshopper," ci-
cada, and "locust" distinguished, 139;
Grasshoppers captured in sweep-net,
118; parasites of, 119.

Grasshopper - lark ( Alauda trivialis ),
128.

Grass-seed, extraordinary, 155.

Gray, Dr. Asa, quoted. " May-apples,"
59; ragweed,44; germinating seeds,27.

Great-crested fly-catcher, snake-skin nest
of, 223.

Green dandy Beetle (Eumolpus auratus),
108, 119.

Ground-apples, 57.

Ground-nut (Aralia trifolia), 65 ; Apios
tuberosa, night attitude of leaves, 126.

Ground-pine. See Club-moss.

Groundsel shrub {Baccharis halmifolia),
beautiful seed-tuft of, 174.

Grouse, ruffed, "drum" of, 41; theo-
ries of the mysterious sound from vari-
ous authorities, 42; snow-shoes of, 265;
snow burrows of, 267.

HAIR-BIRD. See Chipping-sparrow.
Hare, footprints of, in snow, 250.
Harvest-fly, or Cicada, 33, 138.
Hay-fever and ragweed pollen, 280.
Hazel, leaf-roller of (Attelabus), 104;

witch, see Witch-hazel.
Hazel-nuts in a bird's-nest, 233.
Hedgehog -grass (Cettc/irus), burr -seed

of, 155, 284.

Hepatica. See Liverwort.
Hibernation among insects, 305.
Hickory, opening buds of, 50 ; beetle-

pruner of, 260.

" Highhole " woodpecker. See Flicker.
Hog peanut (Amphicarpea), leaves of,

at night, 126 ; underground flowers

and pods of, 165-167.

Hogweed. See Ragweed, Small.
Holmes, O. W., quoted, xxii.
Honeysuckle, wild (Azalea viscosa), 58.
Hood, Thomas, quoted, 219.
Hornet's-nest fragments in bird's-nest,

221.

Horse-chestnut : — Buds of, 48, 50 ; re-
markable leaf-scar of, 263.
Horse-hair in birds'-nests, 224.
Horse-tail (Equisetum), beautiful dew

decoration of, 122. See also Scouring-

rush.
Hound'stongue (Cynoglossum Morisoni),

"beggar-lice," 154.
Human inventions and their prehistoric

models, 239.
Humblebee, "honey-bags and red hips "

of, 112.

Humming-bird, nest materials of, 224.
Hylodes. See Frogs, Peeping.

ICE conservatory, 228.

Ichneumon flies : — A remarkable wood-
boring (Thalessa lunator), 234 — 239;
construction and object of drill ; the
victim of the ichneumon, 238 ;
" wasps " from caterpillar cocoons, 68-
72, 199.

Indian paddle and ash seed, 216.

Indian turnip (Psoralea escttlenta), 57.

Insects : — Entrapped by milk-weed blos-
som, 116; for aquarium, 300; gall-pro-
ducing, 57, 60, 257-259 ; in the grass,
77, 117; harvest of sweep-net, 117—
120; hibernation of , 305 ; music of, 30,
33. 34. r3S; imitated by birds, 128-
131 of winter, 34, 234, 270, 289, 292,
299, 305; under stones, 74; wood-bor-
ers, 34, 234-239; — Insect magicians,
208,257; parasites on, 67-72, 119,145-
199. See also Beetles, Butterflies, Cat-
erpillars, Chrysalis, Cocoons, Moths.

Iron-weed ( Veronia), seeds of, 173.

Ivy, ' ' five-leaved. " See Virginia-creeper.

317

Ivy, poison, or " three -leaved."
Sumach (A", toxicodetulrori).

See

JAYS as nest-hunters, 230.
Jewel-weed (Impatient), night attitude
and beautiful dewy revelation of, 124.

Love-apples, 57.

Lowell, J. R., quoted, on opening buds,
48 ; dandelion, 38, 227 ; spring black-
birds, 41.

Lupines, various night attitudes of leaves,
126.

June-berry or Shad-blow (Amelanchier Lycopodium, club-moss spores, inflam-

Canadensis), 49.

KENTUCKY warbler, nest material of,
224.

Kinglet, ruby-crowned (Regulus calen-
dula), 215.

Kirby, the naturalist, quoted, 128

LACE in bird's-nest, 222.

Lace-wing fly (Ckrysopa Oculata), 118.

Lady-birds (Coccinella), 119.

Lark, meadow, 40.

Laurel (Kalmia lati folia), jumping sta-
mens and pollen of, 114.

Leaf-cutting bee, 119.

Leaf - hoppers (Helochara) caught in
sweep-net, 1 18.

Leaf-roller of the hazel and the alder,
104-106 ; the process described, 105.

Leaf-rosettes under snow, 240-243.

Leaves masquerading as flowers, 50-62;
night attitudes of, 123-127.

Leguminous plants classified by butter-
fly, 84.

Lettuce, wild. See Wild Lettuce.

Linden ( Tilia Americana), opening buds
of, 49.

Liverwort (Hepatica triloba\ 22-24, 227;
Bryant on, 22, 23 ; under snow, 24.

Lizard. See Salamander.

Locust and grasshopper, 34 ; the right
and wrong of "locust," 139; coial-
winged (CEdipoda corallina), 34, 139 ;
green, 35 ; "fiddling "of, 33, 139 (see
Cicada); — "Locust," toy, 52.

Locust (Robinia Pseudacacia), night at-
titudes of leaves, 96.

mable nature of, 146-149.

McCooK, A. G., quoted, 298.
Magnifying-glass, pocket, 117.
Mallow, creeping (Malva rotundifolia"),

226.
Mandrake (Podophyllum peltatuni), 58,

59-

Maple : — Buds of, 48 j caterpillars of,
98; silver, blossoms of, 22 ; sugar, and
bees, 2 ; — maple-seed revels, 4; sprout-
ing samaras, 5 ; masquerading seeds,
25-28

Marigold, night aspect of flowers, 126.

Mason-wasps. See Wasp, Mud-dauber,
and Vase-maker.

May-apples, 57; of Azalea -viscosa, 58;
of Podophyllum peltatuni, 58, 59 ; Dr.
Gray's allusion to, 59 ; false May-ap-
ples, 58.

May-flower. See Trailing Arbutus.

May-weed (Maruta), seed of, 284.

Meadow-lark, 40.

Meadow-lily, pollen of, 114.

Melilot clover, night aspect of leaves,
126.

Melon flower, explosive pollen of, 115.

Microscope, pocket, 117; interesting
specimens for; Equisetum spores, 108 ;
Equisetum skeleton, in; pollen, 114.

Midnight, plants by, 121-127.

Milk-weed (Asclepias cornuti) :— Seed of,
172, 284; blossom of, entrapping in-
sects, 116; pompons made from seeds,
174; stalk fibres used in birds'-nests,
220; family, classified by butterfly, 85;
butterfly, see Butterfly (Archippus).

Mocking-thrush. See Thmsh.

Morning-glory, gold beetles on, 101.

Mosses, club. See Club Mosses.

Moth, feather -winged, 119; Bull's-eye
(Saturnia /<?), xvi ; evening primrose,
135; rosy, 98; sack - bearer (Psyche),
298 (see Apple-tree Moth, Cecropia,
Polyphemus, Prometheus, Dryocampa,
96 ; also Chrysalis and Cocoon).

Mountain • laurel (Kalmia la ti folia),
jumping stamens and pollen of, 114.

Mourning cloak. See Butterfly (Anti-
opa).

Mouse, field ; nest of, 74 ; tracks of, in
snow, 248 ; winter nursery of, in a
bird's-nest, 232; white-footed or deer-
mouse (Lcucopus), 247.

Mullein (Verbascum thapsus) flowers
at night, 126; Moth mullein (V, blat-
tarid), winter rosettes of, 241.

Mushroom, fairy-ring, 177; various, 187—
191.

Music of insects, 30, 33, 34, 128-131,
138.

Musk flower, pollen of, 115.

Muybridge, instantaneous photographs
by, 251.

NASTURTIUM ( Troptxoluni], night atti-
tude of, and dewy sheen, 122.
' Nests and nest - building. See Birds'-
nests.

Nettle family distinguished by butterfly,
84.

Nettle-tree (Celtis), sugar-berry gall on,

259-

Newspaper fragments in bird's-nest, 221,
222.

New Zealand caterpillar fungus, 191.
Night, plants by, 121-127.
Night-flowering catchfly, 126.
Nightshade, enchanter's (Circaa lute-

tiana), pollen of, 114; clinging seeds

of, 154.

November birds, 212.
November wild flowers, 210, 226.

OAK: — Buds of, 48; clinging leaves, 45 ;

fungus growing upon, 189 ; acorn

sprouting, 29 ; caterpillar of (Dryo-

campd), 97.
Oak, poison. See Sumach (A1, toxicoden-

droti).

Oriole, Baltimore, nest ingredients of ,224.
Oven-bird, nest materials of, 224.
Owls, 230.
Oyster -plant (Tragopogon porrifolins),

beautiful seed of, 172.

PAINTED-CUP (Castilleia cocdnea), 61.

Papaw (Asimina triloba), 57.

Parasites, insect, 67-72, 119, 145, 199.

Partridge. See Grouse, Ruffed.

Partridge-pea ( Cassia chamcccrista), night
transformation of, 125.

Pea blossoms at night, 126.

Peanut, young plant in kernel, 28 ; hog,
see Hog-peanut.

Peepers. See Frog.

Peppergrass (Lepidium Virginicuni), ro-
settes of, in winter, 240-242.

Phoebe-bird, 40.

Photographs, instantaneous, of Muy-
bridge, 251.

Phillotaxy, 242.

Pickering's frog. See Frog.

Pigeon Tremex ( Tremex columba), a vic-
tim to the drilling ichneumon fly, 238.

Pignut. See Ground-nut Ginseng.

Pig - weed ( Chenopodium album ) , seed
packet of, 284; (Amarantus hybridus),
night attitude of leaves, 126.

Pineapple, 57.

Pine, pollen of, 115; explosive properties
of pollen, 149.

Pine-cones : — Clicking of, in March, 13 ;
gray squirrel burrowing for, 278 ; hy-
grometric properties of, 15 ; queer

319

motions of, 14 ; spiral arrangement of
scales in, 17; the squirrel unlocking
cone, 17 ; seed of pine, 217, 284.

Pith in bird's-nest, 221.

" Pitchforks," 151. See Beggar - ticks.

Plantain (Plantago major), dew on, 122;
English (P. lanceolata), rosettes of,
in winter, 241, 242.

Plants, classified by butterflies, 80-86;
dew on, 121-124; night aspect or sleep
of, 124-127.

Pod, underground, of the wild bean, 165-
167.

Poison -dogwood, poison-elder, poison-
sumach. See Sumach (R. venenata).
Poison-ivy, poison-oak. See Sumach
(/V*. toxic ode ndroti).

Poisonous " May-apples," 60.

Pollen, various forms of, 112— 116; of
milk -weed , insects encumbered by , 1 16 ;
of skunk-cabbage, and bees, 2 ; explo-
sive, of pine, 149.

Polygala, fringed (Polygala paucifolid),
underground flowers of, 63, 64.

Polyphemus moth (Telea Polyphemus),
cocoons and parasites of, 67-72.

Pomme-Blanche, or prairie-apple, 57.

Poplar-seeds, cotton of, 170.

Poppy (Papaver), night-closing of flow-
ers, 127.

Prairie-apple, 57.

Prairie-hen, foot of, 267.

Prairie-warbler, nest materials of, 224.

Primrose. See Evening Primrose.

Prometheus moth, cocoon of, 255.

Puff-ball fungus, 177, 187.

Purple finch, nest materials of, 224.

Purslane, or Pusley (Portulacaoleraced),
night attitude of leaves, 127.

Puss-moth caterpillar (Cerura borealis),
singular features of, 144.

RABBIT. See Hare.

Ragweed, great (Ambrosia trifida), stat-

ure and pith of, 43 ; pollen of, as a
cause of hay-fever, 280 ; seed of, 284 ;
seeds of, as food for birds, 280 ; small
(A. arlimisifolia), 44.

Red-eyed vireo, remarkable nest of, 221.

Redwing blackbird, 40.

Reed mace. See Cat-tail.

Rib -grass plantain (P. lanceolate), 241,
242.

Riley, C. V., on the bag- worm, 296.

Robin, 38, 224.

Rock flower (Saxifraga Virginiensis),
21, 22.

Roman wormwood. See Ragweed, Small.

Rosettes of leaves in winter ; evening
primrose, thistle, peppergrass, plan-
tain, 240-243,

Rose, wild, 202 ; at night, 126.

"Rose willow," 209.

Rove beetles. See Beetles.

Ruby-crowned kinglet, 215.

Rue Anemone (Thalictrum anemo-
noides), 21.

Ruffed grouse. See Grouse.

SALAMANDER, 74 ; a whistling, 194.

Salsify, or oyster-plant, 172.

Sanicle, clinging seeds of, 154.

Sassafras, eyed caterpillar of, 132.

Savannah cricket. See Frog.

Saxifrage, early. See Rock Flower.

Scarlet painted-cup, 61.

Scotch pine, clicking cones of, 13.

Scouring- rush (Equisetwn /iyetnale),io']—
111,122; use by early settlers, 107-
no; antiquity of, 122; fruit and
squirming spores of, 108 , stone skele-
ton of, disclosed by a chemical experi-
ment, in.

Sea-groundsel (Baccharis), 174.

Sedge, seed of, 284.

Seeds: — Curious shapes of, illustrated.
282; dissemination of, 150; agrimony,
154; ash, 216; aster, 173; bedstraw,

320

INDEX

150 ; birch, 288 ; blue lettuce (Mulge-
diuni), 173 ; burdock, 155 ; burdock-
seeds and birds, 197 ; burrs and stick-
seed, 150-155, 197 ; cat-tail (Typha),
173; clematis, 172 ; enchanter's night-
shade (Circcea), 154 ; galinsoga, 172 ;
galium, 150; golden-rod, 173 ; goose-
grass (Chenopodiuni), 154 ; groundsel-
tree (Bacckaris), 174; hedgehog grass,
155, 284 ; hound'stongue, 154 ; ma-
ple, 4, 5, 25-27 ; milk-weed, 172-174;
pine, 13-18; poison-ivy, 93; salsify, or
- oyster-plant, 172 ; sanicle, 154; shoot-
ing, 203, 205 ; thistle, 171-174; tulip-
tree, 274, 284; weed-seeds, 180-184;
wild lettuce, 173; willow, 170; winged,
170-174 ; witch-hazel, 203.

Seeds, germination of, 24-29; cotyle-
dons, designs of, 29.

Semicolon butterfly. See Butterfly.

Service-berry. See Shad-blow.

Shad-blow (A melanchier Canadensis), 49.

Shakespeare, quoted. "Pignut," 66;
"red -hipped bumblebee" and his
"honey-bags," 112.

Shave grass. See Scouring-rush.

Shooting seeds, 203, 205.

Shrimp, fairy (Branchippus v emails),^.

Silk-weed. See Milk-weed.

Silver maple. See Maple.

Skunk-cabbage (Sytnplocarpus fcetidus],
pioneer blossom of, 3, 19, 23, 24, 226,
227.

Sleep of plants, 124-127.

Smart-weed (Pofygonum), seed of, 284.

Snake, black, as a nest hunter, 230.

Snake-head. See Turtle-head.

Snake-root, black. See Sanicle.

Snake-skins in vireo nest, 222; bird col-
lector of, 223.

Snapping-beetle, great eye-spotted (Ela-
ter oculatus) , vi, 119; under stone, 74.

Sneeze - weed {Helenium autumnale),
seed of, 284.

Snow-bird, 213 ; snow -bunting (Junco
hyemalis),ziy, nest materials of, 224.

Snow-burrowers : — Grouse, 267 ; squir-
rel, 276.

Snow : — Curious specks on, 285 ; stories
in, 247; rings and other devices of
wind - blown grasses in, 268 ; snow-
tracks of grouse, 264 ; of mice, 248 ; of
rabbit. 250.

Snow-fleas (Podura), 289.

Soldier bugs in sweep-net, 119.

Solitary vireo, nest materials of, 224.

Sorrel-sheep (ftumex acetoselld), rosettes
of, in winter, 240.

Sorrel, wood, (Oxalis), night aspect of
leaves, 127.

Spanish needles, 151.

Spanworm, 118.

Sparrow : — Chipping, nest materials of,
224; winter tenant of nest, 231 ; fox,
213; song, 40, 212; yellow -winged,
insect-like song of, 130.

Spice-bush caterpillar (Papilio Troilus),
132.

Spider prisoners in a wasp-net, 156, 161.

Spiders, various, 119, 161.

Spider-web: — Botany lesson from a, 171;
in the dew, 124 ; in bird's-nest, 221.

Spores, squirming, of scouring-grass ; in-
flammable, of club mosses ; of Fungi,
177, 187.

Spring beauty ( Claytonia Virginica), 21,
22, 23.

Spring calendar, i— 86.

Spring flowers, 1-3, 20-24.

Spring foliage, tender tints of, 48, 49.

Squirrel: — As a bird's-nest hunter, 230;
gray, as a snow-burrovver; in winter,
276; red, a botany lesson from, 17;
providence of, 278.

Squirrel-cups. See Liverwort.

Stag-beetle (Lucanus), 239.

Star cucumber ( Sicyos angulatus), pollen
of, 115.

Starling. See Blackbird, Red-winged.

Stick-seeds, 150-155.

Stones, life under, 73.

Stony skeleton of the scouring - rush
shown by a chemical experiment, no.

Sugar-berry tree (Celtis), gall of, 259.

Sugar-maple and early bees, 2.

Succory. See Cichory.

Sumach, fragrant (Rhus aromatica), 90,
94; poison, 89; distinguishing char-
acters and identification of, 92-94;
confounded with the harmless Virginia-
creeper, 92-95; Rhus radicans, 91;
Rhus toxicodendron arid its various
disguises, 90-92; Rhus venenata, 90.

Summer calendar, 89-174.

Swallow-tail butterfly. See Butterfly.

Swamp-cabbage. See Skunk-cabbage.

Swamp pinks (Azalea viscosa), 57.

Sweep-net, curious insect harvest from,
117-120.

Swift, chimney, nest of, 224.

THOMPSON, ERNEST, reference, 267.

Thoreau, H. D., quoted. Birds' - nests,
219; " drum" of the grouse, 42 ; en-
tomology, 88 ; midnight, 121 ; poison-
sumach, 90 ; squirrel and cone, 17 ;
water-beetle, 306.

Thistle (Cirsium lanceolatuni), rosette of,
in winter, 241; feathered seed of, 171.

Thistle-seed pompons, 174.

Thrasher, brown. See Thrush.

Three-leaved ivy. See Sumach (R. tax-
icodendrott).

Thrush, migration of, 212; mocking or
feruginous, or brown - thrasher, 39 ;
golden - crowned ( see oven - bird ) ;
robin, 38 ; song of, 39 ; nest materials
of, 224.

"Tick" seeds. 150-155.

Toad (Bufo Antericanus): — Song of;
dual tone of song, 54 ; analysis of the
"bagpipe" drone; imitation of its

)EX 321

song> 55 ; singular vocal technique,
55, 56 ; decoying the ; Japanese mim-
ic whistle of song, 56 ; mitten of, in
a bird's nest, 222; tree-toad (I/yla
vcrsicolor} : — Spring song of, 52 ; au-
tumn song of, 192 ; mimetic decora-
tion of, 193 ; Hylodes, 9 ; in autumn,
194.

Toad-flax (Linarid), purple and yellow,
226.

Tracks in snow, 247, 250, 265.

Trailing arbutus (Epigea repens}, 20 ; in
February, 22; Bryant on, 21.

Trap, a burdock, 197.

Tree-cricket ((Ecanthus niveus), 119.

Tree-toad. See Toad.

Tremex. See Pigeon Tremex.

Trowbridge, J. T., quoted. The par-
tridge, 41.

Tulip - tree (Liriodendron tulipifera),
opening buds of, 49; seed of, 216,
284 ; seed shower from, 274.

Turtle-head (Chelone glabra), 227.

Twigs, among the winter, 257.

UMBELLIFEROUS plants distinguished by

butterfly, 84.
Underground flowers, 63, 167.

VASE-MAKER wasp. See Wasp.

Violet, yellow (Viola rot undi folia), Bry-
ant on, 20-22 ; blue (Viola cucitllatd),
two sorts of flowers of, 205 ; cut-leaved
variety of ; shooting seeds of, 206.

Vireo :— Red-eyed, 221; solitary, 224;
white -eyed, 221; winter tenants of
nests, 232; nests and nest material of,
analyzed, 212, 220.

Virginia-creeper (Ampleopsis quinque-
folid) confounded with poison -su-
mach, 92, 93 ; distinguished from su-
mach, 92-95 ; many-leaved varieties
of, 95-

Virgin's-bower. See Clematis.

322

INDEX

WARBLERS :— Autumnal-streaked, black
and yellow, Cape May, yellow red-
poll, yellow-rumped, 213 ; Kentucky,
prairie, yellow, worm-eating, nest ma-
terials of, 224.

Wasps : — Mud - dauber (Pelopccus), 74 ;
nest and spider prisoners of, 156—161 ;
paralytic effect of sting on prey, 47,
160, 161 ; paper (refers here to Polis-
tes), 74 ; vase-maker (Eumenes f rater-
no), 46; how to handle wasps without
harm, 183 ; ichneumon wasps, 71, 72.

Water-beetle (Gyrimis). See Beetle.

Web caterpillars, 258.

Weeds : — In winter, 280 ; winter seeds
of, food for birds, 280-284 ; world-
wide travels of, 150.

Weevil, leaf-rolling of hazel. See Beetle.

White birch. See Birch.

White bunting, 213.

White-footed, or deer-mouse (Hesperomys
leucopus), 248.

Whitlow-grass (Draba vcrnd), 21.

Wild bean (Apios tuberosa), leaves at
night, 126; Atnphicarpea, or hog-pea-
nut ; underground flowers and pods
of, 165-167.

Wild carrot, 284.

Wild flowers, earliest, 1-3, 19-24 ; latest,
202-210, 226; "punctual" flowers, 22.

Wild geranium. See Cranesbill.

Wild-ginger (Asarum Canadense), 21, 22.

Wild lettuce (Lactuca elongata), seed of,

173-

Wild rose, 202; at night, 126.
Willow, catkins of, 48 ; seed cotton of,

170, 208 ; cone-gall of, 207.
Willow-herb- or fire-weed (Epilobiuni),

241.

Wilson on the drum of the partridge,

42.

Wind-flower (Anemone nemorosa), 21.
Winged seeds, 170-174, 274, 283.
Winter calendar, 247-309.
Winter:— Insects of, 234; butterflies of,

34, 184, 270, 289, 292, 305 ; twigs of,

257 ; leaf-rosettes of, 240-243.
Winter food of the birds, 280-284.
Winter-green, false. See Polygala.
Winter supplies for aquarium, 299.
Witch-brooms, 259.
Witch-hazel, blossoms of, 202, 210-226;

shooting seeds of, 203, 227.
Woodbine. See Virginia-creeper.
Wood-boring ichneumon and its victim,

234-239.

Wood-frog, 52, 194.
Woodpecker, golden-winged, or flicker,

40.
Wood-sorrel (Oxalis), night attitude of

leaves, 127.
" Woolly-bear," 234.
Worm-eating warbler, nest ingredients

of, 224.
Wormwood, Roman. See Ragweed,

Small.

Wren, nest materials of, 224 ; golden-
crested, nest of, 224.

YELLOW-BILLED cuckoo, nest of, 224.
Yellow butterfly (Philodice), 84.
Yellow-edge. See Butterfly (Antiopa).
Yellow-redpoll warbler, 213.
Yellow-rumped warbler, 213.
Yellow violet, 20, 22.
Yellow-warbler, nest materials of, 224.
Yellow-winged sparrow. See Sparrow,

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