Woodside or, Look, Listen, and Learn. - Caroline Hadley (early readers .txt) 📗

it sticks to the bees, but a great deal of it drops off as they rub against the flowers."

"It's give and take," said Jack. "The flowers give the honey for the insects to eat, and the insects carry their pollen away for them."

"Yes, that's something like it," said grandmamma. "And now you can see why flowers which bloom at night need to have a strong odour. There are some plants which

'Keep their odours to themselves all day'

but towards evening they

'Let the delicious secret out;'

and it is that moths and insects that fly about at night may know whereabouts the flowers are. The bees are busy in the day-time; but there are a great many kinds of moths, in fact there are more moths than there are butterflies, and they only fly about at night, and the honey of flowers is their sole food. So you see the scent of flowers has a great use."

"I never thought of that before," said Mary.

"If the flowers which keep open late in the evening have not a very strong perfume, they are generally white or pale yellow, so as to be seen easily. There is one of these plants called the evening primrose--not that it is like a primrose except in colour--at the bottom of the garden walk."

"Do let us go and see if there is a moth on it, grandmamma."

Grandmamma smiled and said, "Jack might go and look, and then he could tell his sisters what he saw."

Jack scampered away, and after a minute or two he was back with the report that he had counted seven winged flies and moths all busy feeding upon the honey of the different blossoms of the plant!

"Insects can smell things at a far greater distance than we can," said grandmamma. "The sense of smell seems to be their strongest sense."

"Do you think it is a good thing to be able to smell so very much, grandmamma?"

"Certainly I do. I know a keen sense of smell is sometimes disagreeable for its owner; but as a rule, when a smell is unpleasant it is unwholesome, and the nose is like a sentinel that gives warning of danger, so that we may either get out of the way or remove the cause. Some people really seem to have no noses, considering what they will endure in the way of bad smells, and how careless they are about keeping windows shut that ought to be opened to let in the fresh air and sunshine.

"You must remember, children, that your five senses are but doors which the mind must keep open. It is the mind that perceives. We say, 'I perceive this apple is sour;' 'I perceive this cloth is rough;' 'I perceive a smell of roses;' 'I perceive this flower is white;' 'I perceive the birds are singing.' So the word 'perceive' will do for tasting, feeling, smelling, seeing, and hearing."

Chapater X(THE SIX CLOSED DOORS.)

 

"Say what is it, Eyes, ye see? Shade and sunshine, flower and tree; Running waters swift and clear, And the harvests of the year.-- Tell me, Ears, what ye have heard? Many and many a singing bird; Winds within the tree-tops going, Rapid rivers strongly flowing; Awful thunder, ocean strong, And the kindly human tongue.-- These and more an entrance find To the chambers of the mind."

ANON.

The end of the visit had come at last. Tom and Katey were at Woodside spending the last day with their cousins. It was evening: the long shadows were falling over the lawn, and the summer air was still.

Grandmamma was sitting under a tree on the lawn knitting, when the children clustered around with the old request, "Please, grandmamma, tell us a story."

Grandmamma looked a little gravely upon the dear, eager faces, and began:--

"A little boy found himself one day, he could not tell how, in a cell, or rather a small room, which was very comfortable. He could not remember anything that had happened before he came there, nor did he feel frightened although he was quite alone.

"For some time he was content to pass the time without taking any particular notice of anything. At last he saw that there were several doors--five--in the walls of his room. He noticed that two were high and wide, the rest seemed smaller; and he thought, 'I will open one of these first. Doors must be meant to lead somewhere, and I am rather tired of this little room, although it is comfortable.'

"He opened the door very easily, and he found himself in a large room. In the middle of it was a table covered with things that seemed good to eat.

"He did not see any one, but he heard a voice say, 'Come in and taste.'

"So he took up one nice thing after another, according to his will; and after awhile he heard the voice say, 'This is enough for once; you may come again.'

"He turned to go back to his room, but the door was gone. The way to his cell was open, and this beautiful room was added to his smaller one.

"Now he had plenty of amusement. He learned how different were the tastes of the objects before him;--some sweet, some sour; others were bitter, or salt, or spicy; some with flavours that cannot be put into words, they were so delicate and varied. As soon as he had had enough he could taste no longer; so he always knew when to leave off.

"He was satisfied for a long time with this room, for fresh objects were daily added. At last he looked longingly at the door by the side of the opening where the late door was.

"He opened it and walked out, not into a room, but into a lovely garden. The walls were high, but the garden was very broad and long.

"There were the fruits whose delicious flavour he knew: now he found that some of them at least had a fragrant smell. However, he scarcely noticed them; for a strange, sweet odour of flowers greeted his newly-found sense. After awhile he felt almost overpowered by this fresh pleasure, and turned to go back for awhile into his little room, when he found that this door had also vanished. He was glad of this, for the delicate perfume of the garden freely came into his cell.

"What a growing pleasure was this garden! Every flower had its own special odour--the rich rose, the tall, queenly lily, and the lowly violet--each in its way the sweetest.

"At first he thought that only the flowers had perfume, but he soon found this was a mistake. By taking more careful notice he perceived that leaves as well as flowers were sometimes scented, as in the musk plant, the geranium, and even those of black-currant bushes.

"As he walked down an avenue of lime trees, he noticed a most delicious scent, which he found came from the small blossoms of the trees high above his head. He turned into a shrubbery, and was greeted by the fresh fragrance of the pine trees, and found that even the resinous buds of other trees had a pleasant scent. The very earth too, after a shower of rain, had a refreshing smell.

"By-and-by he looked at the high walls of the garden, for there seemed to float over them a blended sweetness of something, he knew not what; but in after days he knew it as that of new-mown hay.

"Again, the wind would bring him a smell of something that certainly did not belong to flowers or fruit. It seemed to make him strong, and long to know what was over the wall. It was the sea-breeze that came to him from the vast ocean, and made him feel that his lovely garden was, after all, too bounded.

"He turned the handle of another door. It was that of touch, and he found himself in a passage. He walked along a little way, and saw an open archway on his right, through which he went, and there he was in the room of taste. He took up a cherry, and it felt smooth; a peach, and it felt soft and downy; a pine-apple, and it was rough. He looked toward the archway through which he had come, when, behold! the whole passage wall had vanished, making the old room larger.

"He went into his garden: the gravel path felt hard and firm, the lawn felt soft and springy under his tread. He touched a rose-stalk and he felt its prickles, while the leaves of the flowers were soft. Some flower-stalks felt sticky, others smooth, and the bark of the oak tree was rough.

"The bright sunshine felt warm to his cheek, and the marble of the fountain felt cold.

"There were now two large doors left, and he resolved to open that of hearing.

"All was dark as he stepped into a room or passage, he knew not which. He walked on a little way, then he stopped, for he faintly heard the sound of music. The sweet strains grew longer and louder, drawing him along till he came to a large hall where an organ was being played by a master. Here he stayed to listen and to wonder, spell-bound by the strange high music;--now swelling to a triumph, now sinking to a soft echo; now it told of gladness, and again of sorrow. Then it changed to a solemn, stately march; then there was a sound of rippling sweetness, ending in a lullaby so soothing that he fell fast asleep.

"When he awoke he was in his cell; the door was gone and the mystic hall had vanished. He went into his garden, and heard for the first time the sweet song of birds, the hum of insects, and the soft sound of flowing water from the marble fountain. He heard the swaying of the wind among the leaves and branches of the trees, and the sound of his own footsteps on the path.

"'Now for the last door,' he said, as he opened it, and was dazzled by a flood of light which nearly blinded him. Sight, which had been before but faint and dim, now became clear and open. He found himself in his old room of taste; but instead of the walls were crystal windows, and his table of fruits and food looked small in the midst of the vast space. He turned into his garden: what a change was there! He saw that the roses were a deep, deep red, and pink, and yellow, and white; that the flowers were of every hue and shade of colour, and the trees of varying green.

"Now he saw the birds whose sweet songs he had often heard, some in bright plumage, and others of graver colours.

"He saw the insects flying about with whose soft hum he was familiar; some too of whose existence he knew nothing before--the noiseless butterflies of brown and gold, of deep orange or pale yellow, of azure blue or cream and brown and crimson.

"He saw the darting dragon-fly, shining in black and blue, with gauzy wings of pearly tints; and other insects brilliant with many colours, shining or dusky, flitting by or crawling along the ground.

"Tired out at last with all these wonders, he went back to his cell and slept.

"He awoke thinking,