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gling arid crawling and spinning things
as those, and had thought them very ug
ly; but now that he wanted them for his
aquarium, he began to consider them as
very curious, and he tried to find and
catch as many of them as he could.
At last he thought he had got enough.
So he put the cover upon his pail, and
then, taking the pail in one hand and the
basket of pebbles and gravel in the other,
he set out on his return home.
When they reached home, Jane first
put the pebbles and gravel in the bottom
of the jar. Then she put the roots of the
water grass in, and after that she poured
the water in from the tin pail, animals
and all. The poor things seemed some
what astonished at first, to find them
selves going over such a waterfall, when
being poured out from the pail, and after
ward in whirling round and round so
swiftly in the jar. But they soon recov
ered from their fright, and those that
could swim began swimming about in the
water, while the others went crawling to
and fro over the pebbles on the bottom,
just as if they were in their native pond.
After this, George went into the woods
with Jane a great many times, and
brought back a large number of tiny
creatures for his aquarium, and very often
he found new ones which he had not seen
before. He was always very much pleas
ed when he found any new ones.
Jane named all the different kinds for
him. There was one very curious little
thing that George found in one corner of
the pond, that moved about with such
strange jerks and wriggles, that he nam
ed him skip-jack.
George used to watch the motions and
gambols of the animals a great deal, es
pecially on rainy days, when he could not
go out to play. On pleasant days he of
ten went to the brook and to the pond to
bring new specimens; so that the aqua
rium amused him a great deal.
There was one thing very curious about
it, and that was, that when George look
ed in at his animals through the top of
the jar, where he saw them through the
upper surface of the water, which was
level and flat, they all looked of their na
tural and proper size; but when he look
ed at them through the side of the jar,
where the glass was round, they looked
greatly magnified as they came swim
ming by, one after the other. Thus, by
looking through the side of the jar, he
found that he had an a mi
croscope all in one.
Reproof is a medicine like mercury
or opium ; if it be improperly administer
ed it will do harm instead of good.
BURKE’S WEEKLY.
Akin.
BY BAYARD TAYLOR.
Little one, come to my knee!
Hark, how the rain is pouring
Over the roof, in the pitch-black night,
And the wind in the woods a roaring.
Hush, my darling, and listen,
Then pay for the story in kisses ;
Father was lost in the pitch-black night,
In just such a storm as this is !
High up on the lonely mountains,
Where the wild men watched and waited ;
Wolves in the forest and bears in the bush,
And I on my path belated.
The rain and the night together
Came down, and the wind came after,
Bending the props of the pine tree roof
And snapping many a rafter.
I crept along in the darkness,
Stunned, and bruised, and blinded —
Crept to a fir with thick-set boughs,
And a sheltering rock behind it.
There from the blowing and raining,
Crouching, I sought to hide me;
Something rustled, two green eyes shone,
And a wolf lay down beside me.
Little one, be not frightened,
I and the wolf together,
Side by side, through the long, long night,
Hid from the awful weather.
His wet fur pressed against me;
Each of us warmed the other ;
Each of us felt in the stormy dark
That man and beast was brother.
And when the falling forest
No longer crashed in warning,
Each of us went from our hiding place
Forth, in the wild, wet morning.
Darling, kiss me in payment!
Hark how the wind is roaring;
Father’s house is a better place
When the stormy rain is pouring.
Written for Burke’s Weekly.
MAROONEE’S ISLAND ;
OR,
Dr. Gordon in Search of His Children.
BY REV. F. R. GOULDING,
Author of “ The Young Maroonere.”
CHAPTER VII.
SIMPSON’S STORY.
[concluded.]
K LEARNED many other
useful things from my uncle
Ridge in the way of wild
woods physic ; how to cure
chill and fever, by pills of
pider’s web; how to stop a
* of the bowels by chewing
ves of the sweet-gum,* or a
n! small piece of a green persimmon,
and how to stop a heart-burn by chewing
the young buds of the pine, and other
things of the sort, which you would tire
to hear of. There was one thing I learn
ed, however, not in his line, that I will
mention, because it may prove both new
and useful. It was his way of managing
n balky horse. My uncle’s wife was a
good farmer. The Indian men , you know,
never work; they will fight, and hunt,
* Known to botanists as Liquid Amber-
and trap, and spear fish, and doctor peo
ple, and manage generally, but anythin <r
like work, and bearing burdens, they
leave to the women. Well, my aunt had
a beautiful pony that would do anything
except draw in a cart. One day it was
necessary that several loads of corn
should bo brought from the field, and the
pony refused to pull. My aunt tried coax
ing, and then switching, but in vain.—
Then she applied to her husband. He
came out and I came with him to see
what was to be done. The pony had a
mulish look. His ears were laid back,
and his whole manner said as plainly as
pony could say, You may do what you
please, but I will not pull one step. The
first' thing my uncle did was to pet and
gentle him, and wdiisper a word or two
in his ear. Then he applied three or four
tremendous whacks with a switch. But
this only made matters worse. He then
shelled an ear of corn, took the cob, (any
thing else would do as well,) broke it in
two, put a piece in each ear and tied the
ear tight around it with a string. This
stopping of the ear made such a buzzing
and confusing sound to the pony that he
hauled one load without difficulty, hut
refused to haul anymore. My uncle then
locked the wheels so they could not bo
turned, fastened the pony by a halter to
the tree, and left him in the shafts all
night, without food or water. The next
morning there was no gentler pony to be
found, nor one more willing to do his du
ty. He never was known to balk again.
My uncle said that if ever there was an
other balk he should try the effect of
some unpleasant physic.
Before I was quite grown my good mo
ther died, and I happened to a great mis
fortune. While on a visit to the Indian
nation, there arose a quarrel between me
and the son of a chief, and I hurt him so
badly that he was likely to die. I return
ed home the next day, and it was not
long before a message came that made me
go still further. It was the picture of a
fish spear, painted red, and under it the
word “ Conagatee.” The fish spear was
the sign of my uncle Way ; the red paint
meant danger; and the word “ Conaga
tee,” (which he had caused the trader
who brought me the picture to write,)
was the Cherokee for “Go away !” From
these hints I learned that the chief’s son
was dead, and there was no time to lose,
for an Indian never forgives. I, therefore,
made some excuse to my father for visit
ing some of his kinfolks in South Caro
lina, and there I staid until he wrote m«
word that he had removed from the
Cherokee Corner to the western border
of the white settlement, near the Creeks.