Part 17 (1/2)
[Footnote 1: See the frontispiece.]
Just one moment longer, cousin Mary, I want to put this flower in your hair. Now doesn't it look sweet, sister Aggy?”
”Oh, yes! very sweet. And here is the dearest little bud I ever saw. I took it from the sweet-briar bush in the lane. Put that, too, in cousin Mary's hair.”
Little Florence, seeing what was going on, was soon, also, at work upon Mary's hair, that, in a little while, was covered with buds and blossoms.
”Now she is our May Queen,” said the children, as they hung fondly around their cousin, who had come out into the country to enjoy a few weeks of rural quiet, in the season of fruits and flowers. ”And our May Queen must sing us a song,” said Agnes, who was sitting at the feet of her cousin.
”Sing us something about flowers.”
”Oh, yes!” spoke up Grace, ”sing us that beautiful piece by Mrs Howitt, about the use of flowers. You sang it for us, you remember, the last time you were here.”
Cousin Mary sang as desired. After she had concluded, she said--
”Flowers, according to these beautiful verses, are only useful as objects to delight our senses. They are only beautiful forms in nature--their highest use, their beauty and fragrance.”
”I think that is what Mrs Howitt means,” replied Grace. ”So I have always understood her. And I cannot see any other use that flowers have. Do you know of any other use, cousin?”
”Oh, yes. Flowers have a more important use than merely giving delight to the senses. Without them, plants could not produce fruit and seed. You notice that the flower always comes before the fruit?”
”Oh, yes. But why is a flower needed? Why does not the fruit push itself directly out from the stem of a plant?” asked Agnes.
”Flowers are the most exquisitely delicate in their texture of all forms in the vegetable kingdom. Look at the petals of this one. Could any thing be softer or finer? The leaf, the bark, and the wood of the plant are all coa.r.s.e, in comparison to the flower. Now, as nothing is made in vain, there must be some reason for this. The leaves and bark, as well as wood, of plants, all have vessels through which sap flows, and this sap nourishes, sustains, and builds up the plant, as our blood does our bodies. But the whole effort of the plant is to reproduce itself; and to this end it forms seed, which, when cast into the ground, takes root, springs up, and makes a new plant. To form this seed, requires the purest juices of the plant, and these are obtained by means of the flowers, through the exquisitely fine vessels of which these juices are filtered, or strained, and thus separated from all that is gross and impure.”
”I never thought of that before,” said Agnes. ”Flowers, then, are useful, as well as beautiful.”
”Nothing is made for mere beauty. All things in nature regard use as an end. To flowers are a.s.signed a high and important use, and exquisite beauty of form and color is at the same time given to them; and with these our senses are delighted. They are, in more respects than one, good gifts from our heavenly Father.”
”Oh! how I do love the flowers,” said Agnes; ”and now, when I look upon them, and think of their use as well as their beauty, I will love them still more. Are they so very beautiful because their use is such an important one, cousin Mary?”
”Yes, dear; I believe this is so. In the seeds of plants there is an image of the infinity of our great Creator; for in seeds resides a power, or an effort, to reproduce the plants, that lie concealed as gems within them, to infinity. We might naturally enough suppose that flowers, whose use it is to refine and prepare the juices of plants, so as to free them from all grosser matters, and make them fit for the important office of developing and maturing seeds, would be exceedingly delicate in their structure, and, as a natural consequence, beautiful to look upon. And we will believe, therefore, that their peculiar beauty depends upon their peculiar use.”
SLIDING DOWN HILL.
Say what you will--talk about cold hands, feet, and noses, as much as you please--there are about as fine sports in winter as we get in the whole year. There is something very exciting in snow. A snow storm acts like electricity upon the spirits of the boys--and girls too, for that matter.
How busy we used to be, on Sat.u.r.day afternoon, when there was no school, as soon as the first flakes of snow had whitened the ground, making new sleds, and mending up old ones.
Our southern readers know very little about these sports of winter. I have a good mind to enlighten them a little. Imagine, my young friends--you who live so near the tropics that snow and ice are objects of curiosity--imagine, if you can, the earth covered to the depth of two feet or more with snow. In some places, the drifts are as high as your head, and higher too. When it first falls, the particles are loosely thrown together; but a warm sun or a little shower of rain melts them down a little, and then comes a night cold enough to freeze up your mouth, if you don't look out, and the surface of the snow becomes hard and slippery. Then such a time as the boys have sliding down hill--why, it is worth coming up as far north as New York, and running the risk of having your fingers frozen a little, to see them at it, and take a few trips down the hill.
[Ill.u.s.tration: SLIDING DOWN HILL.]
A sled constructed for this purpose is a very simple thing. I will sketch one for you. Here it is, and a boy carrying it up the hill.
When the boy gets to the top of the hill, he sometimes lies and sometimes sits up on his sled, and lets it go. It finds its way down, without any of the boy's help, you may depend upon it. He has to guide it a little with his feet, though. If he did not, he might come in contact with another boy's sled, or a rock, perhaps; and that would be rather a serious joke, when the sled was going like the cars on a railroad.