“So it came about that mother only, of all her companions, was allowed to complete a natural life and to realize the hope that we all have in common.”
As seed number Two finished this narrative they were all very thoughtful and felt more considerate for each other in their crowded condition.
Sure enough, within the next day or two a woman with a pan and knife came down the row and began to thin out their number. Seed numbers One and Two trembled as she passed them, but she did not stop to take either.
That evening seed number One whispered to her companion: “You are very fortunate to have had such a noble mother. I know now why it is so easy for you to be patient and good.”
“Ah! you do not know nor understand, or you would not call me good nor think that it is easy for me to be always patient. I love and honor the memory of my mother, but she does not possess the power to make me good. Mother Nature holds each of us responsible for our own acts and judges us accordingly.”
After a thoughtful silence seed number One said: “I am growing to try to be good and to grow strong and upright,” and she stretched herself a little bit higher in her own effort to appear so.
A few days after this a small, tiny worm came creeping and shivering along the ground and stopped first under the leaves of seed number One and asked for a nibble.
“No,” replied the seed, “my leaves must be kept whole and beautiful, for it is only in this way that I can be my best self and thereby win Mother Nature’s approval.”
“But I am starving,” replied the worm. “I cannot find a morsel to eat anywhere. Please give me one of your under leaves that I may gain strength to crawl on and hunt other food. I do not ask your life, but only a bit of your under leaves, which you can well spare.”
“But it will spoil my appearance,” said the seed, “and Mother Nature wants me to be beautiful. And then I can’t bear to have a nasty worm touch me,” and she rustled and drew up her beautiful green leaves to show her disgust.
“Very well,” said the worm, “I will not take by force what you are not willing to give through mercy. Some day you will know me better,” and the worm crawled away.
He stopped at seed number Two and made the same request. At first she hesitated, but seeing how near starved the poor worm was and how humbly and meekly he asked for the food, she relented.
“I know,” said the seed, “you will spoil the appearance of my leaves and I shall look shabby among my companions, but knowing that you, too, are one of Mother Nature’s children, I cannot believe that she would have me withhold life from you. Therefore, I give you of my leaves as giving unto her, leaving the result with her.”
The worm most heartily thanked the seed and began eating. He stayed a day or two, making several large holes through the under leaves, but at the end of that time he had become strong and vigorous, and again thanking her, he crawled away.
Several days after the worm had departed and seeds numbers One and Two had grown to be quite large bunches, the woman with her knife came down the row. She seemed to be in a great hurry and was gathering the largest bunches as she came along. When she reached the two companions she stooped and laid her knife at the root of number Two, but noticing the holes in her leaves she quickly changed to seed number One and the knife went home. Poor seed number One fell over on her side and was gathered up and placed in the pan. The woman passed on and seed number Two was left standing, but shaking with the emotions of fear, thankfulness and regret. For after all, she loved seed number One and was truly sorry that she had been taken.
All that afternoon seed number Two remained very quiet and her companions knew why.
“How strange!” they murmured. “What we thought was her degradation and destruction has really been her salvation.”
And they looked upon her with awe and whispered:
“How strange! How strange!”
THE LECONTE’S SPARROW
(Ammodramus leconteii.)
The Leconte’s Sparrow has an interesting history. It was first discovered and named by Audubon in 1843. Later, his account seemed almost a myth, for no more individuals were taken, and even the specimen on which he based his published report of the new species was lost. It was not seen again until Dr. Coues rediscovered it in 1873, obtaining his specimens on the Turtle Mountain, near the border of Dakota.
Of their habits, Dr. Coues says: “In their mode of flight the birds resemble wrens; a simile which suggested itself to me at the time was that of a bee returning home laden with pollen; they flew straight and steady enough, but rather feebly, as if heavily freighted for their very short wings.”
Its range is quite extensive, for it is found from the Great Plains eastward through Illinois and Indiana and from Manitoba southward. During the winter months it frequents the States bordering the Gulf of Mexico. This Sparrow is often seen in the stubble of grain fields which have become covered with grass and low weeds, to the cover of which it will retreat when frightened. In this respect it resembles the grasshopper sparrow, and like it is easily overlooked. Mr. Nelson found it on moist prairies that were covered with a growth of coarse grass. It is also frequently seen in the swampy prairies of the Mississippi bottom lands.
Mr. Oliver Davie quotes the following description of the bird’s habits from an observer who studied their habits in Manitoba, where they nest extensively: “Leconte’s Sparrows are fairly numerous in Manitoba. Their peculiar note can be heard both day and night in fine weather; the only sound I can compare it to is the note of the grasshopper. It is one of the most difficult of all the small birds to collect that I know of. They are great skulkers. I have often followed them, guided by their chirping, in the grass until I was sure the bird was not more than a few yards away; then he would suddenly ‘crowd on all sail’ and dart away at a high rate of speed, gyrating from side to side in a manner that would test the skill of any collector.”
The nests are described as concealed in a thick tuft of grass and are rather deep and cup shaped. They are constructed of fine grass and fibers.
Though this elegant little Sparrow baffled bird lovers for so many years, it is now known to be abundant in many localities, and it is only because of its peculiar and retiring habits, living as it does in grassy places not easily accessible, that it is not more often observed.
EASTER LILIES
The one delight of Grace Newton’s life was to visit Aunt Chatty White. Winter or summer, autumn or spring – no matter what the season nor how bright or how gloomy the weather – there was sure to be found some unusually fascinating pleasure or employment. There were books of every description with which to while away the winter days. And in summer the trees were full of fruit, the yard with flowers, the fields and garden with good things, while the birds saucily claimed possession of all.
But when she was told by Mamma that she should open Easter with Aunt Chatty her heart was a-flutter with a joy not known before. Easter – her first away from home! And she was sure that there would be presents, and new books to read, and new stories to hear, and rabbits’ nests to visit, and – well, it would be the gladdest Easter of her life, she was certain.
It was Good Friday when she arrived at her aunt’s quiet country home. The winter was dying away and spring was making itself known and felt, while a few birds were venturing to sing of summer’s return. The buds were swelling, the lawns and meadows were becoming green, and in the woods Grace was sure she could find, should she try, a violet, a bloodroot bloom, or a dainty snowdrop. For these were the first flowers, and sometimes appeared, her mother told her, before the snow was fairly gone.
A surprise awaited her, however; for, as she was wandering aimlessly about the garden borders that afternoon, she suddenly came upon a bed of golden buds and blossoms. After gazing at them a few moments to make sure she was not dreaming, she hastened away to Aunt Chatty for an explanation.
“Why, dearie,