For a week, maybe, before the trap is set the trapper coaxes the fox something like this: He cuts a place in the frozen ground. He digs out three or four inches of earth. He fills this place with ashes or dried leaves or chaff, in which are mixed bits of roasted cheese. For awhile the fox won't touch this tempting meal. But some cold night, he pokes among the ashes and has a delicious lunch of cheese. Nothing happens, so he tries it again and again. Before the first fall of snow, the trapper hides his trap in the bed of ashes and cheese. After all his trouble, the chances are that the sly fox will take a sniff or two, shake his head doubtfully, and trot quietly away. If a fox is caught, he will fool the trapper if he can. In some parts of this country, and in others, fine kennels are found where large packs of hounds are kept just for the purpose of running down foxes. Some clear crisp morning the whole pack is turned loose. Soon they are on the track of a fox. Away they go, followed by the hunters with their guns. For miles around the woods resound with the deep, musical baying of the hounds. About a half-mile ahead of them runs the fox for whom all this chase is made. He is so fleet of foot, so light of heart, so full of bounding life from the tip of his pointed nose to the end of his beautiful tail, that he leads the dogs a rapid chase. Up hill, down hill, on and on and on for miles and miles they go. The fox eludes his hunters at every turn. He bounds across the dry stones in the bed of the brook. He crosses and criss-crosses the field until his tracks lead in and out and out and in, back and forth over each other. He goes with long, easy strides up the hill. He mounts a high rock. He watches the dogs down below him trying to untwist the tangle of his footprints. He almost smiles. Far off the fox spies a hunter. He comes nearer, gun leveled. The fox is up and away with nervous, nimble leaps toward the woods. He crosses a piece of ploughed ground. He walks coolly along the frozen rut of the high road where a loaded sleigh has just passed. No scent of his rapid feet will stay in frozen ground. He goes through a pasture to walk about in the footprints the cows have left there. The dogs will have hard work tracing him there. Near the woods he finds the fresh tracks of another fox. He walks carefully in these for awhile. Then he branches off for himself, leaving the dogs to decide when they come up which set of tracks belong to him. Wild, beautiful, buoyant fellow, fleet as the wind, you have our best wishes for escape, now and always. Elude the hunters as best you may. Keep as long as you can the strong, free, gladsome life God has given you. The" sport of hunting you to the death is something of which civilized men should be ashamed. Story It was a cold, moonlit night with the first snow lying white and smooth over the ground. Freddy walked fast, whistling below his breath to show himself that he wasn't afraid. Suddenly he heard a sharp, short bark. It didn't sound just like a dog's bark. Freddy bent his head to listen. There in the light snow, he saw a track-dozens of tracks, small and sharp. Freddy stopped whistling. They were fox tracks. Freddy hadn't lived all his life in a little wayback New England village for nothing. He knew that to see a fox, even, a boy must use all his caution and cunning, and then probably he won't see him. But it was worth trying for. So Freddy crept to a clump of evergreens some distance from the path. He sat down on a rock to wait and listen. Wary as a fox himself, he peered through the dark boughs. He drew back scarce believing his eyes. He looked again, caught his breath, and then sat as still as the rock itself to watch. Just beyond the evergreens was a cleared space. And this is what Freddy saw. One-two-three-six foxesbeautiful, half-grown creatures, with tawny tails flashing in the moonlight. They were well fed. They were out for nothing more nor less than a grand frolic. They flew round and round after their bushy tails. They jumped and capered. They dashed into each other and fought play battles like jolly school boys. They raced and chased and chased and raced in and out of the soft yellow light. One was ruddy red, and one was dark with a thick, soft fur which would make him run for his little life some day. Suddenly a thought came to Freddy. He had heard somewhere that if one gave a short, sharp squeak like a wood-mouse one could coax a fox to come close to one. Now there wasn't an animal anywhere around the village that Freddy couldn't mimic. Many a time his mother heard the cat mew piteously and opened the door only to find Freddy outside. All around the house in unlikely places, squirrels chattered, hens clucked; and turkeys gobbled. Crows cawed in the dead of night. Frogs chirped shrilly and kerchugged from high snow-banks. The time had now come when Freddy could make some real use of his gift. He shut his lips tightly. He drew in his breath sharply and quickly. "Squeak, squeak, squeak." Surely a woodmouse spoke. The fleetest of the foxes paused, in his play. He turned his head, listening. 66 Squeak," said the little mouse again softly. The fox bounded straight toward the clump of evergreen trees. He paused. Freddy waited. There was no hurry. After a a minute, "Squeak, squeak,” said the mouse in a voice that trembled ever so slightly. A few swift graceful leaps-and the fox stood face to face with Freddy on the rock. Freddy sat motionless-half frightened, scarce daring to breathe. The fox showed no surprise whatever. He stood still, one foot lifted, his plumy tail a graceful curve of light against the snow. His eyes were fixed on Freddy's face as if he would read the tiniest thoughts way back in his head. Then slowly he turned, and trotted quietly away toward the woods. When he was once out of sight, though, what a change came over him, He jumped about and frolicked and capered. "I fooled that boy," he thought. “I was frightened half out of my wits. But I didn't let him see it." Then he fell to thinking about that wood-mouse. For with all his cunning, he had not seen through Freddy's trick. He resolved that the very next night he would go back and find her. Meanwhile Freddy ran home. "My -ee! Wasn't he great?" he said to himself. Then he barked exactly like a fox. Farmer Brown's turkeys woke, tumbled off their perches, flapped their wings, and cried so piteously that the farmer came out with his gun and his dog, determined "to catch that fox this time anyway." Through Highways and Across Lots V* L What Shall We do with It? AGNES VINTON LUTHER, Normal and Training School, Newark, N. J. IFE and its expression is the essential part of our Nature Study. This means added work for the teacher, as plants and animals do not take care of themselves. "How can I keep an animal in the school-room?” "What shall I do with it?" "I never succeed in keeping an aquarium in my room. Everything always dies." The Nature lover hears hese plaints whereever she goes. It can be done, however, and be a blessing and revelation to the child as well as an opportunity for growth,.mentally and spiritually. Suppose we try each year to learn how to take care of just one animal so that it might be comparatively happy and well during its sojourn in our room. The next year, another, and so on. Don't try to have the whole round of animal life at once and then throw it all up in disgust because everything goes wrong. Determine to make a success of one single thing. Whatever the animal you select, never miss an opportunity of questioning some animal lover with regard to its care. Glance over the books in the library devoted to the raising of animals for exhibition or for profit. The directions given there for the care of animals may be relied upon. an out The following suggestions are an growth of personal experience, experience, gained through practical school work. Many silent. little folk who spoke so eloquently in every way but words have contributed to the knowledge given here. May they live and prosper wherever they are now and may their experiences help someone else along the road. Study No. I. Fish in the School-room The Jar The round globe may be more artistic, but a straight-sided jar is better. The fish may be seen more plainly and the image is not distorted by the curved surface. A large tank is not advisable for a beginner. Experiment with smaller aquaria first. Straight-sided candy jars, or battery jars six or eight inches in diameter cost about thirty cents. A globe nine and a half inches in its widest part can be bought for sixty cents. A small oblong fish-tank, 11x7 x 8. in., tin bottom and corners, costs one dollar and a quarter. The oblong, all glass tanks, though very beautiful are expensive in more than one way. The initial cost is higher and at the slightest sudden change in temperature, crack in a moment. Cleaning the Jar Never use soap. A perfectly clean cloth, clear water, and good muscle are the right weapons of warfare. However careful you may be to rinse the soap out, a little may remain to the disgust of *Copyright, 1903, by Agnes Vinton Lnther. OML the fish and his possible death. Clean the jar thoroughly with pure water, after bringing it home, and you will have started in the right direction. Furnishing Our idea should be to reproduce the natural home of the fish as closely as possible. Cover the floors of his house with pebbles. These may be bought for a few cents where the fish is obtained, bird gravel may be used, so any little stones easily picked up by the roadside. These should be thoroughly washed again and again in running water. An easier way is to boil them so as to be sure there is nothing which will injure the fish. Many people place sea shells in the aquarium, but experience seems to prove that this is not good for fresh water fish in a small tank. It is just as well to leave out any foreign substance other than the stones. The Plant The object of the plant in the aquarium is to furnish air for the fish to breathe and to keep the water in good condition. Where the plant is used the water does not have to be changed. This is called a self-sustaining aquarium and will last for weeks without attention. Where there is no plant the water must be changed each day. The best plant to aërate the water is sold by the live fish dealer in bunches, usually for ten cents. This is called cabomba. On receiving the plant rinse it around in a bowl of clean water until all the dirt and broken sprays have fallen from it. Take off the little piece of lead which fastens the stems together, substituting for it a string tied to a stone. This keeps the plant upright in the jar. Water Before placing the fish in the water allow the latter to acquire the temperature of the room. Water drawn fresh from the faucet is usually too cold. Imagine how it would feel yourself if you were to undergo the same shock. The water in the jar should always appear perfectly clear. If, for any reason, it becomes contaminated, change it. If it looks milky, you have probably been feeding too freely and allowed the surplus to remain in the water. If it begins to look green, the jar is standing in too bright a light. There is nothing injurious to the fish in the extra growth of green, but as it obscures the water, it may be as well to change it and place the globe where it is not so bright. Examine a little of this green deposit under the microscope and you will be treated to a delightful surprise. Position of Fish Globe Any place will do where there is enough light for an ordinary plant. Do not set the jar where the sun shines for a long time. Cooked fish are not happy. Ordinary light is all that is necessary. A thoughtful thing to do, now and then, when you think of it, is to throw a dark cloth over one end of the tank so that the fish may have a twilight corner in which to rest during the day. Feeding Buy the food prepared for goldfish. There are two kinds, the white paper-like food and the "ants' eggs' which come put up in a little tin box. At first the latter preparation excelled the former but of late the grade has been deteriorating so that now it is merely a mass of brown crumbs which decay in the water and are too fine to remove. Hence, until a better food is put upon the market, use the white papery food. Do not Overfeed If you feed your fish every other day, allowing a piece of food the size of a ten cent piece for each, this is sufficient. If any remains uneaten, remove it from the water in an hour or so. As said before, milkiness in the water indicates overfeeding. Where there are stones and plants in the aquarium the fish obtain many a nice little lunch from the minute life growing upon them. I frequently saw "Jappie," our little fan-tail, take a mouth full of gravel, roll it around there, and then spit it out, having evidently scraped off the dainty morsels clinging to it. Fish eat less in winter, so do not worry if their appetite appears delicate. They are more likely to die from your too great zeal than from starvation. Do not experiment with a varied bill of fare. I have known people who fed their fish, peanut brittle, cake, etc., but-well, words fail here! Companions Snails are the only associates I would advise for the goldfish. They are good little scavengers and live most amicably with their finny friends. If you experiment with a small turtle in the same tank you will probably find a good sized piece of your goldfish's tail gone which has served the turtle as an entrée. Many people keep tadpoles successfully with goldfish, but I have not always found that they lived in peace together. Diseases of Goldfish It does not always follow that with all these precautions your goldfish will live. They come to the dealer in a can, hundreds crowded together and having travelled long distances. They are frequently diseased when you buy them. If they seem sick, change the water in the jar, washing everything in it thoroughly. As a little stimulant, try the oxygen treatment sometimes. Take a glass or cup and dipping the water from the jar, pour it back again from a height. This forces extra air into the water and frequently acts as a tonic. Sometimes a white mould will begin to appear upon the sides of the fish. For this trouble, place the fish in water containing a pinch of salt in solution. This usually results in a cure. I once knew some fish who probably died from shock. The teacher put the jar out of the window over night, found a crust of ice upon it in the morning and put it on the steam pipes to warm up. She couldn't understand what killed her fish! Comment is needless. Fish will stand a very low temperature. Whatever the temperature, try to keep it even. Be careful about believing all that the dealer tells you. He does not have fish to keep but to sell. Some of them have made a special study of the subject, but not many of them had either the time or the opportunity. If with all your care your fish do not live, do not be discouraged, but try again. Better luck will come next time. (To be continued in March number) "It is a part of the silent duty of January to dissolve and absorb the good in the dircarded plant leaves and worn herbage, and to mingle it with the soil, helping the earth to recuperate strength for the labors that must soon be renewed." A Plea for Common Politeness LUCY K. HATCH In the editorial columns of a leading New York paper not long since an article appeared in which there was an estimate made of the time spent in one day in signing "Yours truly" to letters. Then the daily cost to an average business house of writing these words was computed. From this it was agreed that it was very expensive and unneces sary. This article is a sign of the times. How many little courtesies are being shortened and eliminated for lack of time in the hurry to advance. We see this tendency everywhere and nowhere is it to be more regretted than in our schools, for nowhere is it more far-reaching in its results. We hear children speaking of lady teachers by their last names. Are children so hurried that they must leave off the title in speaking of a person? No, the cause is elsewhere. School principals speak of the lady teachers by the last name, notices are sent from room to room by pupils to which teachers sign only the last name. The writer knows that one principal instructs his teachers to sign notices in this way. Children are quick imitators, it is no uncommon thing to hear them speak of teachers as Smith, Brown, Jones, in many cases where good-breeding might reasonably be expected. What is all this rush and hurry for? Is it helping us to advance in the highest sense of the word? We are told that as the United States is growing older we are becoming a more highly cultivated people. We point with pride to our courses of study in common schools as compared to that of the time when the three R's constituted the curriWe have time for music, nature-study, drawing, water-color painting, the collection and study of pictures from the old masters for the sake of the æsthetic and moral effect. But do not the manners of the children of to-day suffer in comparison with those of the so-called old school? Is not respect for elders more important than the ability to recognize one of Velasquez's pictures? Is it not even greater than appreciation of harmony of color? Is it not important that school officers and teachers take time to observe common politeness not only in addressing and speaking of one another, but in all their relations? "For manners are not idle, but the fruit Of loyal nature, and of noble mind." Putting the World to Bed The little Snow people are hurrying down From their home in the clouds overhead. They are working as hard as ever they can, Putting the world to bed. Every tree in a soft fleecy nightgown they clothe, Each post has its nightcap of white, And o'er the cold ground a thick cover they spread Before they say good-night. And so they come eagerly sliding down - Esther W. Buxton in Outlook For the new Philippine currency a mark has been devised to correspond with our dollar-sign, consisting of the letter "P" with two parallel lines drawn across the lobe, or its upper half. Since this design was formally prescribed by Governor Taft, there need be no question in future years concerning its origin or meaning, as with our dollar-sign. Arbitrary marks usually spring into being almost unnoticed, but they can be manufactured to order. No man ever sank under the burden of the day. It is when to-morrow's burden is added to the burden of to-day, that the weight is more than a man can bear. -George McDonald Convalescence At 9 poor Tom was sick in bed, A towel wrapped about his head. At 10 the pain is somewhat less, But still he feels too ill to dress. 11-Thomas thinks that he May possibly get up for tea. He takes some nourishment at noon, And hopes he may feel better soon. At 1 he groans, and says, perhaps, He may be getting a relapse. "It's wonderful," he says at 2, "What good fresh air will sometimes do!" At 3, to see him slide down hill, You wouldn't know he'd been so ill. N.B. This illness, I've heard say, Need not be feared on Saturday.-Sel. Three Questions Dr. Brumbaugh, of the University of Pennsylvania, told the graduates at a Training School that there were three questions he should ask if they should come to him for a position as teacher. First, "Are you a good eater"? No one, he said, ought to take hold of a room full of children, and try to hold them down, who could not eat three hearty meals a day and be hungry all of the time. Another question would be, "Are you a good sleeper "? No boarding-house bell or yell should call a teacher from her sleep. She should always sleep just as long as it tastes good. A great many people feel that our teachers and pupils are overworked. As a matter of fact, if a teacher or a child would sleep the requisite number of hours, they would be capable of performing the necessary amount of work in the school. Then he should ask, "Are you a good laugher"? The teacher who cannot laugh with the young children and be happy with them, would better never enter a school-room. Finally, he would ask, "Do you know how to tell a story well?" It is the hunger that you create, instead of the appetite you satisfy, that makes the successful teacher. The Elastic Spring Mrs. C. F. FRASER, Halifax, N. S. "There was an elastic spring from end to end of my class a life in answering, a real thought put out from top to bottom, unlike anything I have ever had. I have always aimed at it, but never succeeded in getting it until to-day." In this happy strain wrote Dr. Edward Thring, one of the greatest of modern teachers, to a friend who was engaged in similar work. The picture of such a class, alert, intent, and enthusiastic should be constantly in the mind of every young teacher. Dr. Thring, to be sure, was a born educator, yet the lesson in which he justly took such pleasure was the result not of accidental inspiration but of careful study of the pupils for whom the lesson had been prepared. For long weeks he had been busy with his class, drilling, explaining, exciting interest in every way known to his art, until at last there came the joyous day of success, the day that so richly rewards the intelligent, patient teacher for his necessary tribulations and his sacrifices of time and thought the happy day when he perceives for the first time "the elastic spring" throughout his class. - Mother Johnny, how is it you stand so much lower in your studies in January than you did in December? Son Oh, everything is marked down after the holidays, you know, mother. Animal Life in the Cold Season (The following information is taken from "Nature's Calendar," a publication by Harper & Brothers. A most valuable book in Nature Study. Every teacher who owns this book will be glad. — THE EDITOR.) What prevents harm from coming to trees by freezing? Ans. The soft layer of new wood beneath the bark hardens and prevents damage. How does snow help vegetation? Ans. It is like a blanket, keeping in the warmth, preventing excessive freezing of the ground, protecting it against a too rapid evaporation of its moisture, and by its occasional melting contributing evenly to the soil the water stored in its glistening crystals. What do the fishes live on in winter? Ans. Most of the minute creatures that crowd our ponds and ditches seem to have as much hardihood as the water weeds amid which they dwell. They in turn feed upon minuter and even microscopic plants, hydroids, and eggs that are produced in the water at this season. How do the earth-worms pass the winter? Ans. They bore into the ground until they are below the line of frost, or, if they are of aquatic habits bury themselves deep in muddy bottoms of streams and ponds. How do water spiders live through the winter? Ans. By sleeping in the bubble of air they are able to take down with them, entangled in the long hairs of their legs and bodies. The snails and garden mollusks - how do they prepare for winter? Ans. Under mouldering logs, embedded stones, and in out-house cellars, they will be found with the aperture or "mouth" of the shell upward, and probably glued to a support; also that this aperture is always closed by a whitish membrane of hardened mucus which closes it like a drumhead. The snail has filled his house with air, then closed his door with an air-tight curtain, and gone to sleep. What is meant by a snow insect? Ans. It is a curious, wingless, caterpillar-like little creature, about as long as a grain of rice, and orange red or shining black, according to species. It dwells in the moss and is rare, but when seen at all, it appears in great numbers hopping about on the snow in sunny places. What butterflies hibernate? Ans. Several species of the common brown Vanessa, spend the season under logs, ledges of rocks, etc., and the appearance of a warm, thawy day will bring them into temporary activity. Moths and butterflies are found in the Arctic regions, or upon the freezing, stormy peaks of the highest mountain ranges. The chrysalid is the form that usually carries butterflies and moths through the inactive season. either lounging in deep spring-holes or else buried half How do frogs spend the cold season? Ans. They are all torpid in the shore mud along with the turtles. Toads cannot breathe through their skins, so they scramble down into dry soil as far as they can go and hibernate in these holes, with various salamanders for bedfellows. Snakes? Ans. They have an unpleasant way of gathering into a tangled, ball-like mass of a dozen or more after collecting in some den deep in broken rocks, or underground. What about the fur-bearers? Ans. Mid-winter is the time when they are at their best. The deer wear their handsomest coats, paler and more bluish than in summer. About the first of March the antlers loosen upon their heads. The squirrels? Ans. The gray squirrels construct big globular nests in hollow trees, or more often among the branches, and are active every day except extremely stormy ones. The red squirrel is also active all winter, yet has stored away provisions. The chipmunk comes out now and then in warm days. Some Bits of Exercise "W BERTHA E. BUSH HAT a remarkably good school!" ejaculated the visitor peeping in at the door of the first primary room to behold forty little backs as straight as the desks behind them, forty pairs of little hands primly folded, and forty pairs of dancing eyes fixed on the teacher in rapt attention. "You must have some magic spell to control them so." "O no," laughed the teacher. "It is only because it is exercise time and no one wants to be left out." "Exercise!" There was magic in the word to every child in the room. Exercise meant games and rhythm, the waving of little arms, the stretching of tired little bodies, and, most of all, the liveliest exercise of the imagination. What wonder that they sat up straight with eager eyes and the dullest laggard made haste to get into position ! No pupil knew what the exercise was to be beforehand. In fact the teacher herself did not always know, but often skillfully adapted an idea to the need of the moment. On pleasant days when the children could play out of doors, the exercise period was short. On stormy days or those dreadful restless ones, they often had a regular play in the house, and these plays always cleared the atmosphere wonderfully. One of the best for such an emergency, they called "Tommy." The children, faithfully if, alas! vainly, endeavoring to keep step to a lively marching song, passed up and down the aisles and arranged themselves around the walls of the room. (Of course a circle in front would have been better, but there was no room for such luxuries in this schoolroom.) In each aisle was stationed a "Tommy." Waving their arms rhythmically back and forth to give as much exercise as possible, they chanted this rhyme in which they delight: Tommy, are you watching? Tommy, can you see? Tommy, I am standing, but you can't tag me. Then the laughing rows "squatted" down and the Tommies rushed forward and tagged anyone caught standing up. The ones caught went to their seats and the game became more wildly exciting as the number of players diminished. It was the most fascinating thing in some childish experiences to beguile a "Tommy" into rushing your way and then, when he was close upon you, duck down just in time to escape a tag. For a bit of exercise whose only end is to accomplish a complete change of position, the children may stand in the aisles with hands clasped on the tops of their heads, and recite this rhyme, bending to an imaginary breeze whenever they say "nodding." The grasses are nodding, are nodding, are nodding, Again when the leaves are dropping, they may imitate their motions with fluttering little hands while they recite: We stand in lines so straight and true, (Repeat with tra la la while they skip.) If the space between the aisles is large enough, they skip around the room in procession. If not, two at a time, they go back and forth and back again in the space in front of the seats, leaving partners when it is over with a bow that is certainly polite if it is apt to be amusing. Does it pay for the time it takes? Yes, it pays a dozen times over. There is nothing else the teacher has found that makes the children so alert, so prompt to obey signals, so eager to do what she requires. It is an invaluable training in discipline, in precision, and in the lesson most needed of all, that of looking out for the rights of others. "Oh, no," said the teacher. "It is anything but a waste of time. My pupils could not learn half so much from their books and I know they would not be half so good if it were not for our times of exercise." Sleds Long, Long Ago Like everything else, the small boy's sled, the tworunnered, gayly-painted affair, with cushioned seat and back rest, has come down to the small boy of to-day from a very plain and unpretentious beginning. In the time of George III., sleds in England were made of small boards bound to beef bones for runners. Then a barrel stave was used for a seat. To navigate this required no little skill, and many a "header" was taken by every small coaster of that day before some genius bethought him of using two staves. The single-staved affairs were called "jumpers" and "skippers," and made splendid time, when they did not come to grief. Then three and four staves were fastened side by side, proving very slow, though safe affairs. By degrees, the swift two-runnered coasters of to-day were evolved, but the little folks over one hundred years ago thought they were having fine sport when they could own two beef bones and a bit of broken board.-Sel. Three Hands Three hands has Ted instead of twain, He has a right, like you and me; A left, you'll understand; And just one more—to make the three A "little behind-hand"!—Anna B. Patten And back and forth they eddy Like wave-marks on the shore. A bit of Christmas exercise that pleased them so much that it had to be repeated over and over throughout the whole year was the reindeer play. Each pupil in the row Every formula which expresses a law of nature is a hymn of praise to God.-Maria Mitchell |