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14 Our Dumb Animals 1 (1881-1882)

handle is hein.journals/animals14 and id is 1 raw text is: ~p~.b I would not enter on my list of friends, Though graced with polished manners and fine sense, Yet wanting sensibility, the man TVho needlessly sets foot upon a worm. - Cowper. Vol. 14. BOSTON, JUNE, 1881. No. 1. Hurmmng-Bird-Ruby-Throat. Emerald-plum~d, ruby-throated, Flashing like a fairy star Where the humid, dew-becoated, Sun-illumined blossoms are- See the fleet humming-bird! Hark to his humming, heard Loud as the whirr of a fairy king's car! Sightliest, sprightliest, lightest, and brighest one, Child of the summer sun, Shining afar! Brave little humming-bird! Every eye blesses thee; Sunlight caresses thee, Forest and field are the fairer for thee. Blooms, at thy coming stirred, Bend on each brittle stem, Nod to the little gem, Bow to the humming-bird, frolic and free. Now around the woodbine hovering, Now the morning-glory covering, Now the honeysuckle sipping, Now the sweet clemitis tipping, Now into the bluebell dipping; Hither, thither, flashing, bright'ning, Like a streak of emerald lightning; Round the box, with milk-white plox; Round the fragrant four-o'-clocks; O'er the crimson quamoclit, Lightly dost thou wheel and flit; Into each tub~d throat Dives little Ruby-throat. Bright-glowing airy thing, Light-going fairy thing, Not the grand lyre-bird Rivals thee, splendid one!- Fairy-attended one, Green-coated fire-bird! Shinest fragile one, Tiniest agile one, Falcon and eagle tremble before thee! Dim is the regal peacock and lory; And the pheasant iridescent Pales before the gleam and glory Of thy jewel-change incessant, When the sun is streaming o'er thee! Hear the soft humming, Like a sylph's drumming! Pinions so airy-light, Waving in fairy flight, Rich as a butterfly, swift as a bee: Floating so airily, Flitting so fairily, Flashing so starrily over the lea! Nigher and nigher float, Wheeling and hovering, Gay little rover-king, Coming and going on thy wings lyrical; Glancing and glowing, beautiful Fire-throat! Summer's sweet loverling, Bright little miracle! -The Californian. The Spring Birds. We never know the precise time the birds leave us in the fall; they do not go suddenly; their de- parture is like that of an army of occupation in no hurry to be off; they keep going and going, and we hardly know when the last straggler is gone. Not so their return in the spring; then it is like an army of invasion, and we know the very day when the first scouts appear. It is a memorable event. Indeed, it is always a surprise to me, and one of the compensations of our abrupt and changeable climate, this suddenness with which the bjrds come in spring, in fact, with which Spring itself comes, alighting, may be, to tarry only a day or two, but real and genuine, for all that. When March arrives, we do not know what a day may bring forth. It is like turning over a leaf, a new chapter of startling incidents lying just on the other side. A few days ago, winter had not preceptibly relaxed his hold; then sudden- ly he began to soften a little, and a warm haze to creep up from the south, but not a solitary bird, save the winter residents, was to be seen or heard. Next day the sun seemed to have drawn im- mensely nearer; his beams were full of power; and we said, Behold, the first spring morning! And, as if to make the prophecy complete, there is the note of a bluebird, and it is not yet nine o'clock. Then others, and still others, were heard. How did they know it was going to be a suitable day for them to put in an appearance ? It seemed as if they must have been waiting somewhere close by for the first warm day, like actors behind the scenes,-the moment the curtain was lifted, they were ready and rushed upon the stage. The third warm day, and behold, all the principal performers come rushing in. Song- sparrows, cow-blackbirds, grackles, the meadow- lark, cedar-birds, the phcabe-bird, and hark! what bird-laughter was that? the robins, hurrah! the robins! Not two or three, but a score or two of them; they are following the river valley north, and they stop in the trees from time to time, and give vent to their gladness. It is like a summer picnic of school children suddenly let loose in a wood; they sing, shout, whistle, squeal, call, etc., in the most blithesome strains. The warm wave has brought the birds upon its crest; or some barrier has given away, the levee of winter has broken, and spring comes like an inundation.- John Burroughs, in Pepacton. Tho Flight of Birds. The oceanic petrels have reduced the science of flight to the condition of a fine art. The flight of the albatross has always excited wonder and admiration; nevertheless, some of the smaller petrels fly quite as well. There are almost all gradations to be observed in the powers of flight of different birds, in the various stages of perfee- tion in the shaping of the wings, and the skill of the use of them shown by the birds. Refinement in the art of the use of the wings by birds seems to run in two different directions. The flight of the albatross, regarded as the perfection of one mode, the soaring method, performed by aid of great length of wing, may be contrasted with that of the humming-bird, equally perfect in its way and far more rapid, but performed by the use of short wings and excessively rapid motion of them. The movement of the albatross may be com- pared to that of a skilful skater on the outside edge; the humming-bird's flight is just like that of an insect. The albatross ekes out to the ut- most the momentum derived from a few powerful strokes, and uses it up slowly in gliding, making all possible use at the same time of the force of the wind.-Notes by a Naturalist on the Chal- lenger. 4*, Brotherhood. There is a higher consanguinity than that of the blood which runs through our veins-that of the blood which makes our hearts beat with the same indignation and the same joy. And there is a higher nationality than that of being governed by the same imperial dynasty-that of our com- mon allegiance to the Father and Ruler of all mankind.-Max Muller, Buddhist Pilgrims. CERTXINLY he who prevents, does more than he who cures.-Philip Astley. AAO f IV I S P7 A S P E A K 4 1 & -t l

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