Burke's weekly for boys and girls. (Macon, Ga.) 1867-1870, September 07, 1867, Page 74, Image 2

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74 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.