Harper's Round Table, July 30, 1895 Part 6

She wouldn't let anybody divine it; she shakes herself, and calls herself names in private, but she has to fight to be cheerful, and now and then she sits down and writes a long letter to her chum, and indulges in a good comfortable cry, with n.o.body to guess that she is not entirely contented, as indeed all sensible people would say she ought to be. The chum at Bar Harbor or Put-in-Bay, or some nook in the White or Green or Blue Mountains, some perch in the Rockies, or springs, or beach, or other gay resort, has had no time to be blue, and _her_ letter back will be a complete contrast to Jenny's.

Now, my dear Jenny, listen to me! This fit of low spirits will pa.s.s presently, and you will be none the worse for it, if you will just credit it to the account of reaction. Take hold of whatever work there is to do in the house, the harder the better, and do it with both hands.

Read an entertaining book, not a study book, but a bright story, the novel people are talking about, or else the novel of yesterday, which you have always felt you ought to read, but have not yet had time to attack in earnest. Hawthorne, Wilkie Collins, Thackeray, d.i.c.kens, choose your author and your book, and float off into the life of imagination, which cheats the life of the actual of so much of its pain.

Whatever else you do, resolutely speak brightly and look cheerful. The brave effort to be bright and cheerful on the outside braces up the inside wonderfully, soul and body, as you know, being such inseparable partners.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Signature]

WEATHER INDICATIONS.

If you can't afford a barometer to tell you what kind of weather you are going to have, perhaps the following old proverbs will prove of use in helping you to prophesy as to whether it will rain to-morrow or not:

If spiders in spinning their webs make the termination filaments long, we may, in proportion to the length, conclude that the weather will be serene, and continue so for ten or twelve days.

If many gnats are seen in the spring, expect a fine autumn; if gnats fly in compact bodies in the beams of the setting sun, there will be fine weather.

If the garden spiders break and destroy their webs and creep away, expect rain or showery weather.

If sheep, rams, and goats spring around in the meadows, and fight more than usual, expect rain.

If cattle leave off feeding, and chase each other around the pastures, rain.

If cats back their bodies and wash their faces, rain.

If foxes and dogs howl and bark more than usual, if dogs grow sleepy and dull, rain.

If moles cast up hills, rain.

If horses stretch out their nicks and sniff the air and a.s.semble in the corner of a field with their heads to leeward, rain.

If rats and mice be restless, rain.

If peac.o.c.ks and guinea fowls scream, and turkeys gobble, and if quails make more noise than usual, rain.

If the sea birds fly toward land, and land birds toward the sea, rain.

If the c.o.c.k crows more than usual, and earlier, expect rain.

If swallows fly lower than usual, expect rain.

If bats flutter and beetles fly about, there will be fine weather.

If birds in general pick their feathers, wash themselves, and fly to their nests, rain.

Some of the queerest miscellaneous quips received are to the effect that:

If there are no falling stars to be seen on a bright summer evening, you may look for fine weather.

If there be many falling stars on a clear evening in summer, there will be thunder.

A rainbow in the morning is the shepherd's warning.

If fish bite more readily, and gambol near the surface of the ponds and streams, then look out for rain.

If porpoises and whales sport about s.h.i.+ps, expect a hurricane.

The best proverb of all, however, is the following couplet:

A coming storm your toes and teeth presage; Your corns will ache, your hollow molars rage.

HOW TO MAKE A HERBARIUM.

BY CAROLINE A. CREEVEY.

A young lady who was a great lover of wild flowers once brought me a number of pressed specimens to name. They were carefully pressed, but were loosely laid between the pages of a magazine. Among them were several choice plants, one or two of the rarer orchids, and a ginseng that I had never found. In handling them the leaves and flower petals had become broken.

"Your specimens are being ruined," I said. "Why do you not gum them each on a separate piece of paper and lay them in a box? You have here an excellent beginning for a herbarium."

"Oh dear, no!" she said. "I never could take the trouble to make a herbarium. I don't care for the flowers after I know what they are. You may have them all, and welcome."

She had doubtless seen the longing look in my eyes. I was generous, however, and tried to persuade my friend to treasure her own flowers, which she had been at some pains to press, a.s.suring her that the herbarium did certainly pay for its trouble, and that unless she were a collector she would fail of becoming a real botanist. My arguments had no effect, and I fell heir to my friend's specimens.

Another time a lady (a member of a botanical club) said to me: "I don't care to make a collection. I would as soon look at hay as dried plants.

What I want to study is _living nature_."

This sounds like a fine sentiment, and if the herbarium were to take the place of out-door study, we would better burn our entire collection.

Here are the questions, then: How will the herbarium help us in our study of flowers? and Why is it not better to confine our study to "living nature"?

We cannot deny that the herbarium is a matter of time and trouble; but nothing worth having can be acquired without trouble. There is a lever which lightens all tasks wonderfully. That lever is enthusiasm. If you are enthusiastic about anything, you will be pretty sure to succeed, whether that thing be music, drawing, or even arithmetic. This is especially true of nature studies. The successful student of insects, birds, flowers, sh.e.l.ls, or rocks must love his work with a pa.s.sionate ardor. He must almost be a man with a hobby.

Now perhaps you will say, "I have not this enthusiasm, and therefore I shall not be successful." Let me tell you a secret. Nature herself inspires enthusiasm. You have but to work in any one of her departments, and you will learn to adore her. She is like a story-book. The first few pages, and especially the preface, are somewhat dry. But pretty soon, as the story opens up, you can hardly leave it for your meals or your sleep.

The princ.i.p.al value of a herbarium is that one has it always on hand for reference when the living flower cannot be studied. After the summer comes winter. My young lady who threw away her flowers forgot their names during the winter. She could not help forgetting some of them, for the botanical names of flowers are often hard to learn, being composed of Latin or Greek words, or of proper names with Latin terminations; and sometimes it would seem that the smaller and more unpretentious the plant the longer and more jaw-breaking its name.

When early spring comes, one can make a point of reviewing his herbarium and refres.h.i.+ng one's memory, so as to begin where he left off last fall.

Thus each season's work is clear gain. The very labor necessary to make a herbarium impresses the flower and its peculiarities vividly upon the memory. If you handle and linger over your flowers, they will seem to you like pets whose sweet faces you cannot forget.

You want your herbarium, then, for reference, just as you need an encyclopaedia in your library. You want it when the snow is on the ground and there is no "living nature" in the flower realm to study.

Every page of the herbarium should look neat and pretty. In order to secure this result you must first know how to press your flowers. A flower once wilted can never be made to look nice on paper. It is therefore necessary to keep fresh the specimen you wish to preserve. You might carry a large book, and shut your flowers in it as soon as plucked. But that would be inconvenient. A better way is to buy a botany box and carry it with you in all your walks. You never know when you may find some new thing. The box is of tin, opening on one side, and it may hang by straps from your shoulder. If you lay a little wet moss inside, and close the door every time you lay in a flower, your plants will keep fresh in their cool dark nest for three or four days.