(^ H 5 6 Cornell IHniversit^ Xibrar^ OF THE IRew IPorf? State Colleoe of Horiculture ^^ -^^j-. 2.(/y(i^S.. 1633 DATE DUE m^ f4&«:- mY3( ms 1 GAYLORD "•niNTED IN U.S A. Cornell University Library The original of tiiis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924001076383 LETTER OF TRANSMITTAL CuLLliGIi llF AuRICULlURK, Cornell Univlrsiiv, Ithaca, N. Y. Hon. C A. WiETixc, CoiiiDiissioiirr of Ai:^riiiiltnii\ Albany, N. Y.: Sir. — 1 submit licrewith as a jiart of the Annual Report of 1903 a number of the nature-study jniblications for reprinting. Most of these jjublications are out of print and the call for them still continues. These publications ha\'e jiracticallv all arisen under ^'our superx'ision, and under the directorship of Professor I. 1'. Roberts. Xature-stud}' woi'k should begin in the priinar\' grades. It is a fundamental educational process, because it begins with the C(jn- crete and simple, develops the power of (jbser\ati(ni, relates the child to its environment, develops s\-inpath\' for the common and the near-at-hand. l!v the time the cliild has arri\'ed at the fifth or sixth grade he should be \vell prepared for specilli: work in the modern cn\'ironmeiital geograplu', in the industries, or :n other e.xacter common-life subjects. Nature-slud\' is a necessary foun- dation f(jr the best \\ork in bi(jlog\', i)h\"si(jgraph\' and agriculture. Since it is 1 ontent work, it is also eijuallv imiiortant as a prei>ara- tion in all expression wau'k, as in hbiglish, number and reading. In most jireseiit-day rural schools it mav well <'ontiiuie through the eiglith grade ; and, if \veli taught, it mav e\'en take the place verv prolUalih" of senile of the "science" of some of the higher schools. Its jKirticular s})here, however, in a well-de\eloped sit 395 .Viiiia liotsford Comstuclv. XLll. Indian Corn 397 Anna liotsford Comstock. X] ,111. The Ripened Corn 40 1 Anna liotsford Conistncl<. XI, I\'. The Uses of Food Stored in Seeds 409 .Vnna LJotsfcird Comstock. XLA'. Tlie Life History of a Beet 415 ^lar)- Rogers Miller. XLA'I. Pruning 417 Mary Roger-S Millej-. XLVII. Study of a Tree 423 Anna Botsford Comstock, XL\TII. The Maple in Februar\' .... 431 Anna Botsford Comstock. XLIX. The Red S([uirrel or Chickaree 435 Anna Ijotsford Comstock. L. Improvement of Scliool Crounds 437 [ohn W. Spencer. Part II. Ciiildrex'.s Le.^i-lets. The Cliild's Realm 45 i I,. II. Bailey, LI. A Snow Storm 453 Alice r,. McCloskey, LIL A Plant at School 455 L, 11, Bailey, LIII. An Apple Twig and an ,A])ple 467 I„ II. Bailey, " LI\', Twigs in Late Winter 473 ,\Iice Ct, McCloskey, LA', Pruning 475 Alice (.;, McCloskey, LVL The He]iati(:a 477 Alice ('., McCloskey, LA^II. Jack-in-the-Ptilpit 479 Alice G, McCloskey. LVIII. Dandelion 4S1 Alice G. McCloskey and L. 11. Bailey. 6 Contents. Leaflet. Page. LIX. Maple Trees in Autumn 483 Alice G. McCloskey. LX. A Corn Stalk 4S5 Alice (r. McCloslce)-. LXI. In the Corn Fields 4S7 Alice ('.. McCloskey. LXII. Tlie Alfalfa Plant 4«9 L. H. ]Jailey and John ^^^ Spencer. l.XIIl. The Red Squirrel 495 Alice C. McCloskey. l.XIV. .Robin 499 L. n. IS.iiley. 1,X\'. Cro\\-s , 501 Alice (.;. McCloskey. LXVT. A Friendly Little Chickadee 503 Alice (',. McCloskey. LXX'Il. The Family of \\'oodpeckers 505 Alice (;. McCloskey. I,X\'III. Deserted Birds' Xests 515 Alice ( ;. McCl(5skey. FXIX. The Poultry Yard : Some Thanksgiving Lessons. 517 .Vlicc (1. McCloskey and James E. Rice. LXX. Little Hermit Brother 529 Anna Botsford Comstock. LXXI. A Home for Friendly Little Neighbors 537 Alice G. :\IcCloskey. I.XXH. iSloths and Butterflies 545 Alice G. McCloskey. L.XXni. The Paper iSLikers 551 Alice G. McCloskey. LXXIV. Some Carpenter Ants and F'heir Kin 555 Alice G. ^IcCloskey. LX.XV. A Garden All Your 0\yn 559 John ^V. .Spencer. LXX\'L The Gardens and the Sc hnol Grounds 569 John W. Spencer. LXXYII. Something for Young ]''armers 573 John A\'. Spencer. LXXYIIL liulbs 577 John \\\ Spencer. LXXIX. A Talk About Bulbs by the Gardener 581 C. E. Hnnn. LXXX. Florses 5S9 Alice G. McCloskey and 1. 1'. Roberts. PART I. TEACHERS' LEAFLETS. Publications designed to aid the teacher with subject-matter, to indicate the point of view, and to suggest a method of presentation. 7 THE SCHOOL HOUSE. By l. II. i;ailev. the rural distiicts, the school must become social and intellectual centre. It must stand n close relationship with the life and activities )f its communit)'. It must not be an insti- ution ai)art, exotic to the common-day lives; : teach the common tilings and put the jjupil /mpathetic touch with his own environment, every school house will have a voice, and will I teach The earth and soil To them that toil, The hill and fen To common men Tliat li\'e riglit liere ; The plants that grow, The winds that blow, 'i'he streams that run In rain and sun Throughout the year ; And then 1 lead. Thro' wood and mead. Thro' mold and sod, Out unto Ciod "W'itli love and cheer, I teach ! LEAFLET I. WHAT IS NATURE-STUDY?* By L. H. bailey. pVTURE-STUDY, as a process, is seeing the things that one looks at, and tlie drawing of proper conclusions from what one sees. Its purpose is to educate the child in terms of his environment, to the end that his life may be fuller and richer. Nature-study is not the study of a science, as of botany, entomology, geology, and tlie ^e. That is, it takes the things at hand and endeavors to understand them, without refer- ence primarilv to the systematic order or relationships of the objects. It is informal, as are the objects which one sees. It is entirely divorced from mere definitions, or from formal e.\2:ilana- tions in books. It is therefore supremely natural. It trains the eye and the mind to see and to comprehend the common things of life; and the result is not directly the acquiring of science but the establishing of a living sympathy with everything that is. The proper objects of nature-study are the things that one oftenest meets. Stones, flowers, twigs, birds, insects, are good and common subjects. The child, or even the high school pupil, is first interested in things that do not need to l)e ana- lyzed or changed into unusual forms or problems. Therefore, problems of chemistry and of physics are for the most part unsuited to early lessons in nature-study. Moving things, as birds, insects and mammals, interest children most and therefore seem to be the proper objects for nature-study; but it is often difficult to secure such specimens when wanted, especially in liberal quantity, and still more difficult to see the objects in perfectly natural conditions. Plants are more easily had, and are therefore usually more practicable for the purpose, althougli animals and minerais should by no means be excluded. * Paragraphs adapted from Teachei's' Leaflet, No. 6, May i, 1897, and from subsequent publications. Leaflei' I. If the objects to be studied are informal, the methods of teach- ing should be the same. If nature-stud)' were made a stated pait of a rigid curriculum, its purpose might be defeated. One diffi- culty with our present scliool methods is the necessary formal- ity of the courses and the hours. Tasks are set, and tasks are always hard. The best way to teach nature-study is, with no hard and fast course laid out, to bring in some object that may be at hand and to set tlie pupils to looking at it. The pupils do the work, — the}- see the thing and explain its structure and its mean- ing. The e.\ercise should not be long, not to exceed hfteen minutes perhaps, and, abo\"e all things, the pupil should never look upon it as a " recitation," nor as a means of preiiaring for "examination." It ma\' come as a rest exercise, whenever tlie pupils become listless. Ten minutes a day, for one term, (jf a short, sharp, and spic\' obser\'ation lesson on pjlants, for example, is \\'orth more than a «'hole text-book of botan)'. The teacher sliould studiouslv a\oid definitions, and tlie setting of patterns. The old idea of the model flower is a pernicious one, because it does not exist in nature. The model flower, the complete leaf, and the like, are inferences, and pupils should always begin «ith things and phenomena, and not with abstract ideas. In other «-ords, the ideas should be suggested bv the tilings, and not the things b\' the ideas. '' Here is a drawing of a model llower," the oUl method savs; "go and find the nearest ap])roach to it." " (io and find me a llower," is the true method, "and let us see what it is," hJvery child, and e\"ery grown jierson too, for tliat matter, is interested in nature-study, for it is tlie natural way of acipiir- ing knowledge. The oiil\" (lifhcult\' lies in the teaching, for ^"er\• few teachers ha\'c hail experience in this informal method ol drawing out the obserxang and reasoning powers of the ]iuiiil without the use of text-hooks. The teacher must first of all feel in natural objects the li\ing interest which it is desired the ]iupils shall ac(piire. If the enthusiasm is not catcliing, better let sui h teaching alone. Primarily, nature-stud)-, as the writer concei\-es it, is not knowl- edge. He would a\-oid the leaflet that gi\'es nothing but informa- tion. Nature-stud)- is not "method." ( )f necessitv each teacher will develop a method; but this method is the need of the teacher, not of the subject. Nature-study is not to be tauglit lor tlie purp(.ise of making AVha'I' Is Natukis-Sti'dy ? 13 the youth a specialist or a scientist. Now and tlien a pupil will desire to pursue a science for the sake of the science, and he should be encouraged. But every pupil may be taught to lie interested in plants and birds and insects and running brooks, and thereby his life will be the stronger. The crop of scientists will take care of itself. It is said that nature-study teaching is not thorough and there- fore is undesiral)le. Much that is good in teaching has been sac- rificed lor what we call "thoroughness," — which in many cases means only a perfunctorj' drill in mere facts. One cannot teach a pupil to be really interested in any natural object or phenomenon until the puj^il sees accurately and reasons correctly. Accuracy is a prime requisite in any good nature-study teaching, for accuracy is truth and it develops power. It is better that a pupil see twenty things accurately, and see them himself, than that he lie confined to one thing so long that he detests it. Different sub- jects demand different methods of teaching. The method of mathematics cannot be applied to dandelions and polliwogs. The first essential in nature-study is actually to see the thing or the phenomenon. It is positive, direct, discriminating, accurate observation. The second essential is to understand why the thing is so, or what it means. The third essential is the desire to know more, and this comes of itself and thereby is unlike much other effort of the schoolroom. The final result should be the de\-elop- ment of a keen personal interest in ever)' natural object and phenomenon. Real nature-study cannot pass away. AVe are children of nature, and we have never appreciated the fact so much as we do now. But the more closely we come into touch with nature, the less do we proclaim the fact abroad. AVe may hear less about it, but that will be because we are living nearer to it and have ceased to feel the necessity of advertising it. Much that is called nature-study is only diluted and sugar- coated science. This will pass. Some of it is mere sentimental- ism. This also will pass. With the changes, the term nature- study may fall into disuse; but the name matters little sci long as we hold to the essence. All new things must be unduly emphasized, else they cannot gain a foothold in competition with things that are established. For a day, some new movement is announced in the daily papers, and then, because we do not see the head lines, we think that 14 ]^EAFLET 1. the movement is dead; but usually when things are heralded they have only just appeared. So long as the sun shines and the iields are green, we shall need to go to nature for our inspiration and our respite; and our need is the greater with every increasing complexity of our lives. All this means that the teacher will need helps. He will need to inform himself before he attempts to inform the pupil. It is not necessary that he become a scientist in order to do this. He goes as far as he knows, and then says to the pupil that he cannot answer the questions that he cannot. This at once'raises him in the estimation of the pupil, for the pupil is convinced of his truthfulness, and is made to feel — but how seldom is the sensa- tion I — that knowledge is not the peculiar property of the teacher but is the right of any one who seeks it. Xature-study sets the pupil to investigating for himself. The teacher never needs to apologize for nature. He is teaching merely because he is an older and more experienced pupil than his pupil is. This is the spirit of the teacher in the universities to-day. The best teacher is the one whose pupils the farthest outrun him. In order to help the teacher in the rural schools of New York, we have conceived of a series of leaflets explaining how the com- mon objects can be made interesting to children. AVhilst these are intended fur the teacher, there is no harm in gi\-ing them to the pupil ; but the leaflets should never be used as texts from which to make recitations. Now and then, take the children for a ramble in the woods or fields, or go to the brook or lake. Call their attention to the interesting things that you meet — whether you }-ourself understand them or not — in order to teach them to see and to find some point of svmpathy'; for everv one of them will some dav need the solace and the rest which this nature-love can give them. It is not the mere information that is valuable ; that ma)' be had by asking someone wiser than thev, but the inquiring and svmpathetic spirit is one's own. The pupils will find their regular lessons easier to acquire for this respite of ten minutes with a leaf or an insect, and the school- going will come to be less perfunctory.' If you must teach draw- ing, set the picture in a leaflet before the pupils for study, and then substitute the object. If you must teach compiosition, let the pupils write on what thev have seen. After a time, give ten minutes now and then to asking the children what they saw on their way to school. What Is Nature-Study ? 15 Now, why is the College of Agriculture at Cornell University interesting itself in this work ? It is trying to help the farmer, and it begins with the most teachable point — the child. The district school cannot teach technical professional agriculture any more than it can teach law or engineering or any other pro- fession or trade, but it can interest the child in nature and in rural problems, and thereby join his sympathies to the country at the same time that his mind is trained to efficient thinking. The child will teach the parent. The coming generation will see the result. In the inter-jst of humanity and country, we ask for help. How to make the rural school more efficient is one of the most difficult problems before our educators, but the problem is larger than mere courses of study. Social and economic questions are at the bottom of the difficulty, and these questions may be beyond the reach of the educator. A correspondent wrote us the other day that an old teacher in a rural school, who was receiving $20 a month, was underbid 50 cents by one of no experience, and the j'ounger teacher was engaged for $19.50, thus saving the district for the three months' term the sum of $1.50. This is an extreme case, but it illustrates one of the rural school problems. One of the difficulties with the rural district school is the fact that the teachers tend to move to the villages and cities, where there is opportunity to associate with other teachers, where there are libraries, and where the wages are sometimes better. This movement is likely to leave the district school in the hands of younger teachers, and changes are very frequent. To all this there are many exceptions. jNIany teachers appreciate the advantages of living in the country. There they find compensa- tions for the lack of association. They may reside at home. Some of the best work in our nature-study movement has come from the rural schools. ^Ve shall make a special effort to reach the country schools. Yet it is a fact that new movements usu- all)' take root in the city schools and gradually spread to the smaller places. This is not the fault of the country teacher ; it comes largely from the fact that his time is occujiied by so many various duties and that the rural schools do not have the advantage of the personal supervision which the city schools have. i6 Lf.aflet I. Rctrospat ami P)-0!ipi-ct af'td- fivr rears' K'O'-kr To create a larger iiuLlic sentiment in favor of agriculture, to increase the farmer's respect for his OH-n business, — these are the controlling purposes in tlie general mo\'ement that we are carry- ing forward under the title of nature-studv. It is not In' teaching agriculture directh" that this mo^-ement can be started. The com- mon schools in Xew Vork will not teach agricidture to anv extent for the present, and the movement, if it is to arouse a itublic sentiment, must reach bevond the actual farmers themseh'cs. The agricultural status is much more than an affair of mere farm- ing. The first undertaking, as we concei\'e the problem, is to awaken an interest m the things with whicdi the farmer lives and has to do, for a man is happ\' fuilv when he is in svmpath\' with his cn\ironment. To teach obserwitiou of comnKui things, there- t(ire, has been the fundament.il purijose. .V name for the mo\"e- ment «as necessar\-. A\'e did not wish to invent a new name or jihrase, as it would recjuire too much effort in ex|:ilanation. Therefore, we chose the current and significant ]>hrase '' nature- stud\'," «'hich, while it co\'ers nian\" methods and practices, stands e\-erywhere for the o]iening of the mind directh- to the common phenomena of nature. We lia\e not tried to de\"elr)p a s\"stem of na ture-stud\' nor to make a contribution to the jiedagogics of the subject. \\ e have mereh' endea\"ored, as best «"e could, to reach a certain specific result, — the enlarging of the agricultural horizon. A\'e have had no ])edagogical theories, or, if we ha\"e, thev ha\-e been modified or upset 1:)\" the actual conditions that ha\-e presented themselves. Neither do we contend that our o«-n methods and means have alwavs been the liest. \\ e are learning. A'et \\"e are sure that the general results justif\" all the effort. ■J'heoretical pedagogical ideals can be applied bv the good tea( her who comes into jiersonal relations with the children, and thev are almost certain to work out Hell. These ideals cannot alwavs be ap]ilied, hoH"e\"er, with jiersons who are to be reached bv means of correspondence and in a great \"ariet\' of conditions, and ]iarticularh- when many of the sulijects lie outside the I'us- toniar\- work of the s(.diools. Likewise, the subjects selec led lor our nature-sludv work must be go\"erned by conditions and not wdiolU' b\- ideals. We are .111 r.ull, 201,, Sj\tli Rc|-".vl of F.xlensii iijci; What Is N atuk1'',-Si'ui)\' ? 17 sometimes asked \\li\' ^\■e do nut take up topii-s more distinctly a[;rirultural or economic. The ans\^■er is tliat we take subjects that teachers will use. A\'e would like, for example, to give more attention tu insect subjects, but it is difficult to induce teachers to work with them. If distinctly agricultural tojucs alone «'ere used, the mo\'ement would lia\'e \-ery little following and influence. Moreover, it is not our purpose to teach tecdinical agriculture in the common schools, but to inculcate the habit of observing, to suggest work that has distinct application to the conditions in which the child li\'es, to insjiire enthusiasm for country life, to aid in home-making, and to encourage a general movement towards the soil. These matters cannot be forced. In e-\-ery effort by e\'ery member of the e.xtension staff, the bet- terment of agricultural conditions has been the guiding imjiulse, however remote from that purpose it may have seemed to the casual ol>server. We have found \)\ long experience that it is unwise to give too much condensed subject-matter. The indi\'idual teacher can gi\-e subject-matter in detail liecause personal knowledge and enthusiasnr can be applied. Hut in general correspondence and propagandist work this cannot be done. With the Junior Nat- uralist, for example, the first impulse is to inspire enthusiasm for some Ijit of work whi( h we hope to take up.>. This enthusi- asm is ins[ured largely ]>v the organization of clubs and b\' the personal correspondeiK.e that is conducted lietween the llureau and these dul.is and their members. It is the desire, ho\^■e\■er, to ff)llow up this general movement «ith instruction 111 definite subject-matter with the teacher. Therefore, a course in Home Nature-study was formall)' established under the general dire<;- tioii of .Mrs. Mar\- Rogers .Miller. Ft was designed to carry on the experiment for one \"ear, in ord.er to determine whether su( h a course «'ould be prodiictne f)f good results and to discover the best means of jirosecuting it. These experimental results Nvere very gratifying, Xearh' 2,000 Ne\y \'ork teachers are now regularly enrolled in the ('ourse, the larger part of whom are out- side the metropolitan and distinctly urban conditions. K^■ery effort is made to reach the rural teacher. In order that the work may reach the children, it must be greatly pjopularized and the children must be met on their own ground. The conipdete or ideal leaflet may have little influence. iS Leaflet I. For example, I prepared a leaflet on "A Children's Garden" which several people were kind enough to praise. However, very little direct result was secured from the use of this leaflet until " Uncle John " began to popularize it and to make appeals to teachers and children by means of personal talks, letters and cir- culars. So far as possible, his appeal to children was made in their own phrase. The movement for the children's garden has now taken definite shape, and the result is that more than 26,000 children in New York State are raising plants during the present year. Another illustration of this kind may be taken from the effort to improve the rural school grounds. I wrote a bulletin on " The Improvement of Rural School Grounds," but the tangible results were very few. Now, however, through the work of "Uncle John" with the teachers and the children, a distinct movement has begun for the cleaning and improving of the scjiool grounds of the State. This movement is yet in its infancy, but several hundred schools are now in process of reno^-ation, largely through the efforts of the children. The idea of organizing children into clubs for the study of plants and animals, and otlier outdoor subjects, originated, so far as our work is concerned, with j\Ir. John W. Spencer_ himself an actual, jiractical farmer. His character as " Uncle John " lias done much to sujiply the personality that ordinarily is lack- ing in correspondence work, and there has been developed amongst the children an amount of interest and enthusiasm whicli is surprising to those who have not watched its progress. The problems connected with the rural schools are jjrobably tlie most difficult questions to solve in the whole field of educa- iion. A\'e believe, however, that the solution cannot begin directly with the rural schools themselves. It must begin in educational centres and gradually spread to the country dis- tricts. "We are making constant efforts to reach the actual rural schools and expect to utilize fully every means within our power, but it is work that is attended with many inherent difficulties ^\'e sometimes feel that the agricultural status can be reached better through the hamlet, village, and some of the city schools than by means of the little red school house on the corner. By appeals to the school commissioners in tlie rural districts, by work through teachers' institutes, through farmers' clubs, granges and other ]iieans we believe that we are reaching far- ther and farther into tlic \-ery agricultural regions. It is diffi- What IS Nature-Study ? 19 cult to get consideration for purely agricultural subjects in the rural schools themselves. Often tlie school does not have facil- ities for teaching such subjects, often the teachers are employed only for a few months, and there is freijuently a sentiment against innovation. It iias been said that one reasou why agricultural subjects are taught less in the rural schools of America than in those of some parts of Ivirope, is because of the few male teachers and the absence of school gardens. We have met with the greatest encouragement and help from very many of the teachers in the rural schools. Often under dis- advantages and discouragements they are carrying forward their part of the educational work with great consecration and efficiencv. In all tlie educational work we lune been fortunate to have the sympathy and co-operation of the State Department of Public Instruction, \^'e do not e.xpect that all teachers nor even a major- ity will take up nature-stud)- work. It is not desirable that they should. We are gratified, however, at the large number who are carr^'ing it forward. This Cornell nature-study movement is one small part of a gen- eral awakening in educational circles, a movement which looks towards bringing the child into actual contact and sympathy with the things with which he has to do. This work is taking on many phases. One aspect of it is its relation to the teaching of agriculture and to the lo\-e of country life. This aspect is j-et in its early experimental stage. The time ^ill come when institutions in every State will carry on work along this line. It will be se-\'eral years yet before this t\pe of work will have reached what may be considered an established condition, or before e\'en a satisfactory body of experience shall have been attained. (Jut of the ^-aried and sometimes conflicting methods and aims that are no«' Ijefore the public, there will de\'elop in time an institution-movement of extension agricultural teaching. The literature issued by tlie Bureau of Nature-Study is of two general tvpes: that wliich is designed to be of more or less per- manent value to the teacher and the school ; and that wliich is of temporary use, mostly in the character of supplements and circu- lars designed to meet present conditions or to rally the teacliers or the Junior Naturalists. The literature of the former tyjie is now republished and is to be supplied gratis to teachers in New York State. The first p)ublication of the Bureau of Nature-Study was a series of teachers' leaflets. This series ran to twentv-two I.l'lAKI.I'l' I. munbers. It was discontinued in ]\[a\-, 190T, liecause it was thought that sufficient material had then been printed to supply teachers with subjects for a year's work. It was never intended to publish these leaflets indefinitely. Unfortunately, howe\'er, some ])ersons have sujiposed tliat because these teachers' leaflets were discontinued we were lessening our efforts in the nature- study work. The fact is that later years have seen an intensifica- tion of the effort and also a strong conviction on the jjart of all those concerned that the work has permanent educative value. A\'e never believed so fully in the efficienc}' of this kind of effort as at the present time. LEAFLET IL THE NATURE-STUDY MOVEMEMT. Bv I,. II IIAII.EV. ':;^^.j£Shfi^'^^''' HE nature-study movement is tlie out- growtli 01 an effort to put the cliild into contai t and sx-mpatliy Avitli its own life. It is strange tliat such a nio\'ement is neeessar)-. It would seem to he natural and almost ine\-itahle that tlie educa- tion of tile i.hild shoidd place it in inti- mate relation H'ith the objects and e\'ents with "whicli it li\es. It is a fact, however, that our teaching lias been largclv exotic to the child; that it has begun b\' taking the child asvav from its natural environment ; that it lias con- cerned itself with the subject-matter rather than with the child. This is the mar\'el of mar\'els in education Let me illustrate b\' a reference to the country scho(jl. If any man were to find himself in a countrv whollv de\"oid of schools, and were to be set the task of originating and organizing a school svstem, he would almost unconsciously introduce some suljjects that would be related to the habits of the iieoiile and to tlie wel- fare of the community. Being freed from traditions, he woukl teach something of the plants and animals and fields and people. Vet, as a matter of fact, «]iat do our rural schools teacli ? They usually teach the things that the academies and the colleges and the universities ha\-e taught — tliat old line of subjects that is sup- posed, in its liigher phases, to lead to "learning." The teaching in the elementarv scliool is a refle<.:tion of old academic methods. \\"e reallv begin our svstem at the wrong end — with a popuhiriz- ing and simJ)lif^ung of metliods and subjects that are the product of the so-called higher education. We should begin witli the child. "The greatest achie\'ement of modern educati(ni,' ^\Tites ■"■ Reprinted from the Proceedings of the National Educalional .\ssocia. tion, 1903. Paper read in general be^'^ioll at IJostoii, Jul}', 1903. 22 Leaflet 11. Professor Payne, " is the gradation and correlation of schools, whereby the ladder of learning is let down from the university to secondary schools, and from tliese to the schools of the people." It is historically true that the common schools are the products of the higher or special schools, and this explains why it is that so much of the common-school work is unadapted to the child. The kindergarten and some of the manual-training, are success- ful revolts against all this. It seems a pity that it were ever neces- sary that the ladder of learning be "let down;" it should be stood on the ground. The crux of the whole subject lies in the conception of what education is. We all define it in theorv to be a drawing out and a developing of the powers of the mind; but in practice we define it in the terms of the means that we employ. ^Ve have come to associate education with certain definite subjects, as if no other sets of subjects could be made the means of educating a mind. One by one, new subjects lia\'e forced themselves in as being proper means for educating. All the professions, natural science, mechanic arts, politics, and last of all agriculture, have contended for a jilace in educational systems and have established themselves under protest. N'ow, anv subject, wlien ])ut into pedagogic form, is capable of being the means of educating a man. The study of Cireek is no more a proper means of education than the studv of Indian corn is. The mind ma}' be de\'eloped liv means of either one. Classics and calculus are no more di\-ine than machines and [lotatoes are. ^^'e are much in the habit of speaking of certain su])iects as leading to "culture;" but this is really factitious, for "culture " is the product onl)- (jf efficient teaching, whatever the subject-matter mav be. .So insistent lia\'e we been on the emploving of " culture studies " tliat ^^•e seem to have mistaken the means of education for the object or result of education. A\'hat a man is, is more important than \\'liat he knows. Anything that appeals to a man's mind is cajiable of drawing out and training that mind ; and is tliere anv subject tliat does not ajjjieal to some man's mind ? The subject ma\- be .Sanskrit literature, livclraulics, physics, electricit\', or agriculture — all may be made the means wherebv men and W(jmen are educated, all may lead to wliat we ought to know as culture. The ]iarticular subject \\'ith which the person deals is incidental, for "A man's a man for a' that and a' that." Is tliere, then, to be no choice of subjects? There certainly is. The Nature-Study Movement. 23 It is the end of education to prepare the man or woman better to live. The person must live with his surroundings. He must live with common things. The most important means with which to begin the educational process, therefore, are those subjects that are nearest the man. Educating b)' means of these subjects pjuts the child into first-hand relation with his own life. It expands the child's spontaneous interest in his environment into a per- manent and abiding sympathy and philosophy of life. I never knew an exclusive student of classics or philosophy who did not deplore his lack of touch with his own world. These common subjects are the natural, jjrimary, fundamental, necessary subjects. Only as the child-mind develops should it be taken on long flights to extrinsic subjects, distant lands, to things far beyond its own realm ; and yet, does not our geography teaching still frequently begin with the universe or with the solar system ? In the good time coming, geography will not begin with a book at all, as, in fact, it does not now with many teachers. It may end with one. It will begin with physical features in the very neighborhood in which the child lives — with brooks and lakes and hills and fields. liducation should begin always with objects and phenomena. We are living in a text-book and museum age. First of all, we put our children into books, sometimes even into books that tell about the ver\' things at the child's door, as if a book about a thing w re better than the thing itself. So accus- tomed are we to the book-route that we regard any other route as unsystematic, unmethodical, disconnected. Books are onlv secondary means of education. We have made the mistake of considering them primary. This mistake we are rapidly correct- ing. As the book is relegated to its proper spdiere, we shall find ourselves free to begin with the familiar end of familiar tilings. Not only are we to begin with common objects and events, but with the child's natural jioint of contact Avith them. Start with the child's sympathies; lead him on and out. We are to develoj) the child, not the subject. The specialists may be trusted to develop the subject-matter and to give us new truth. The chikl is first interested in the whole plant, the whole bug, the ^^■holc bird, as a living, growing object. It is a most significant fact that most young chddren like plants, but that most youths dislike botan)'. The fault lies neither in the plants nor in the vouths. A youth may study cells until he hates the ijlant that bears the cells. He may acquire a technical training in ook. Yet it nppears to be the commonest thing to put mere cliildren at the subject of cross-fertilization; they should first be put, perhaps, at fiowers and insects. I wish tliat in e\-er\- schoolroom might l)e luiug the motto, " Teaching, not telling." (4) A fourth point I ought to mention is the danger ot clinging too closely to the liook habit; this I liave alread\' touched on. "W'e are gradually growing out of the book slaver\-, c\'cn in arithmetic and grammar and ]iistor\'. This mean- a distinct ad\'ance m the abilities of the teacher. (Jf all subjects tliat should not be taught biy the book, nature-studv is chief. Its ver\' essence is freedom from tradition and " methotl " I wisli that there were more nature-studv books ; but they are mijst useful as sijurces of fact and inspiration, not as class texts. The good teacher of nature-study must greatly modifv the old idea of " recitations." I wish to quote again from President I'diot: "Arithmetic is a \-erv cheap subject to teach; so are spell- ing and the old-fasliioned geography. As to teaching history in the old-fashioned wav, an\-body coubl do tliat wlio could hear a lesson recited. To teach nature-studies, geometrv, literature, physiograpliN', and the modern sort ot Jiistor)- recjuires well- informed and skillful teachers, and these cost more than the les- son-hearers did." (5) Finall}-, we must come into contact with tlie actual things, not with museums and collections. Museums are little better than books unless the)" are regarded as second- ary means. The museum has now liecome a laboratorv. 'Phe li\'ing museunt must come more and more into vogue, — li\'ing birds, living plants, living insects. 'I'he ideal laboratorv is the out-of-doors itself; but for practical school purj)oses tliis must be supplemented. The most workable li\-ing laboratory of any dimensions is the school garden. The true school garden is a laboratory plat; time is coming when such a laboratorv will be as The Naitre-S I iMiv Movement. 29 much a part of a good slHooI e(iuipment as blackboards and charts and books now are. It will be like an additional room to the school building. Aside from the real school garden, e\-ery school premises should be embellished and impro\-ed as a matter of neighborhood anti civic pride; for one cannot expect the child to rise above the conditions in which he is placed. All these dangers cannot be overcome by any ''system " or "method; " they must be solved one by one, place by idace, each teacher for himself. Whenever nature-study comes to be rigidlv graded and dressed and ordered, the breath of life will be crushed from it. It is significant that everywhere mere "method" is gi\'ing «'a\- tn individualism. In time, the methods uf teaching nature-stud\' will crvstalli/.c and consolidate around a few central points. The movement itself is well under way. It will persist because it is vital and fundamental. It will add new -waiue and significance to all the accustomed work of the schools ; for it is not revolutionarv, but evolutionary. It stands for naturalness, resourcefulness, and for quickened interest in the common and essential things of life. A\"e talk much alxjut the ideals of education ; but the true jdii- losophy of life is to idealize e-\-eryt]iing with \\-liich we lia\-e to do. LEAFLET IIL AN APPEAL TO THE TEACHERS OF NEW YORK STATE.* IJv L. H, JSAILEV. HE kernel of modern educational de\"elopment is to relate the school-train- ing to the daily life. Much of our edu- cation is not connected with the condi- tions in which the pupils li\-e and is extraneous to the lives that the"\- must lead. The free common schools are more recent in de\'elopment than uni\'er- sities, colleges and academies and the\' are e\-en yet essentially academic and in many ways undemocratic. They teach largely out of liooks and of sub- jects that have little vital relation with things that are real to the child. The school work is likeh" to be exotic to the pupil. The child lives in one world, and goes to school in another world. E\'ery subject has teaching-power when put into jiedagogic form. The nearer this subject is to the child, the greater is its teaching power, other conditions being comparable ; and the more completely does it put him into touch witli his en\'ironment and ro.ake him efficient and hajip)' therein. In time, all subjects in which men engage will be put in form for teaching and be made the means of training the mind. The old subjects will not be l)anished, but rather extended ; but the range of subjects will be immensely increased because we must reach all people bi terms of their daily experienrx. How all these subjects are to be handled as school agencies, we cannot )'et foresee, nor is it m\' purpose now to discuss the ijuestion ; but it is certain that the common things must be taught. And the common subjects '■' SuppleiT^iien t In II(jnie XaturL'-St U'l }' Crilirsc, Marcli, J904. -No. 6.; 31 (V.,1 V, 3.2 TjCAl' l.l'.T III. arc as capable ol being made ihe mcaii.s ol (.le\cl()ping tlic imagination and llie liiglier ideals as are man)- uf the traditional subjects. (Ireat nund)ers of (jur people are in industrial and agricultural ciuironmcnts. ]!\- means of the industrial and agricultural trades the\" must li\"e. These trades nuist be made more efficient ; and the vouth must be educated to see m them more thaii a mere li\"elihood. These industrial and agricultural sulijects must lie put more and more into schools. ^I\' own interest lies at present more with the agricultural subjects, and these are the occasion lor this appeal. The so-called " industrial " and commercial subjects have -aJfe;a.:K;:.jijSitA;^iga>», already been ]iut intri schools with good effect: the agricidtural sulijects now must come within the S( hool horizon. I'robabh- one million and more of the ]ieo]ile of Xew York State li\"e on farnrs. This is appro.\imatel\" one in seven of our entire |iopulation. Moreoxer, e\'erv jierson is interested in the fiut-of- doors and in the things that gro«- therein. The future agricid- tural efhcienc\" ot Xew '^ ork State will dejiend on the school training more than on anx' other single factor; and on the agri- cultural efticienc\' of the State wid depend, to ww imjiortant extent, its economic sapremacw New \"ork is the fourth State in total agricultural wealth, being e\ieeded onh' 1>\- Illiiuiis, Iowa and A\ AiM'i.Ar, Ml iHF. 'J'eachkrs of New \'(jkk Statf. 33 Ohio. All the country children should be reached in terms of the country. Most of our school books are made for the city and town rather than for the country. The problem of the develop- ment of the rural school is the most important single educational problem now before us ; and it is essentially an agricultural problem. My appeal, therefore, is to every teacher in New York State, whether in country or city — for the city teacher makes public y^4''- -■ Junior Garilciier^ ill 'oork in n Xfio York school groiDid. Tilt' L^TOlinils nro no-o ready for plantin;^. The mail carrier now calls ami the pupils take the mail home. opinion, helps to set educational standards, and many of the country cji.ildren go to school in the cities. I do not wish to jjress agriculture into the schools as a mere professional subject, hut I would teach — along \\\\.\\ the customary scltool work — the oljjects and phenomena and affairs of the country as well as of the cit)'. The schools lead away from the country rather than towards it. All this I do not regar\ The (lass in geography was on exhibition, for there were \isilors. The questions v, ere answered {juickh': "Ilow bir is it from RF,AFLET III. are only secondary or incidental means ol educating, particularly in nature-study subjects. We have known the book-way of edu- cating for so long a time that many of us have come to accept it as a matter of course and as tlie onh' way. A New York school man recently told me an incident that illustrates this fact singu- larly well. In the Cattaraugus Indian Reservation he opened a school in which at first he employed only manual-training and nature-study work. Soon one of the children left school. The teacher sought tlie mother and asked why. The mother replied that there was no use in sending the child to school because the /•>i'". y. Priic loni iiiid a Uii-Vtar-oIJ ,-\['i-ri iiieiiUr in oin- of Siipt. Kern's disfrii/s, Illinois. teacher had gi\-en it no books to study. So slavishly have we fol- lo\\ed the liook-route that even the Indian accej)ts it as the onlv road to schooling ! SCHOOI.-Ci.ARDF.XS. Man)' lines of \\ork might be suggested for an occasional period. Perhaps the best one for spring is a school-garden. In time, every good school will ha\-e its garden, as it now has charts and black- boards and books. A school-garden is a laboratory-room added tf) the school house. It ma)- lie five feet square or ten times that much. The children prepare the land, — lessons in soils, soil jihysics; ^o\\ the seetl, — lessons in planting, germination, and the Ax Appt ■I'ni'. 'J'|';achI'.ks iiF \i.:«- "S'dkk Siwte. 37 like; care for the jjlants, — lessons in transplanting, struggle for existence, natural enemies, conditions that make for the welfare of the plants. The older pupils may be organized into experiment clubs, as they are being organized in parts of Illinois (see article on " Learning by Doing," by Supt. O. J. Kern, Review of Reviews, Oct., 1903, p. 456). We can help you in this school-gardening work. ■^r, J, " LL'ariiin;^ by doin^." A lu-w kind of school woik in Illinois, under llic direction of Siipt. Kern, Other Work. If not school-gardens, take up other lines of work, — study the school premises, the nearby brook or field, an apple tree, or any other common oliject or phenomenon. If there is any special agricultural industry in the neighborhood, discuss it and set the pupils at work on it. Any of these common-day subjects will interest the children and brighten up the school \\o\V ; and the pursuit of them will teach the children the all-important fact that so few of us ever learn, — the fact that the commonest and home- liest things are worthy the best attention of the best men and women. I.KA1.LKT IIL iMPROViNf, 'I'HE School Grouxijs. just now, the imjiroving of school grounds i.s ;i pressing subject. As a preliminar)' to the actual improving of the grounds, suppose lliat the follo\ving ])roblems were set l)efore the ])upils; I. /i.\iy-r/si\< on tlii- Groiiiuh. I. Ai-ca. — Measure the school grounds, to determine the lengths and widtlis. Draw an outline map showing the shape. The older ]iupils may compute the sipuare surface area. The distances ma)- he compared, for jiractice, in feet, yards and rods. (Arithmetic.) /'/-. 6. Csiiv^ihc Babcock milk lal al Professor HoUislcr s School, Coriii/k, .V. 3'. 2. Contour. — Is the area level, or rough, or sloping ? Determine how great the slope is by sighting across a carpenter's le-\-el. In what direction does the ground slope ? Is the slope natural, or was it made bv grading ? The older pupils may draw a cross- section line, to a scale, to show what the slope is. (Geography.) 3. Fences. — Wliat parts of the area are fenced? \Miat kind of fence? Total length of fence? Give opinion whether this fence is needed, with reasons. Is the fence in good repair ? If not, what should be done to remedy it ? (Arithmetic, language.) 4. Soil. — What is the nature of the soil — Lday, sand, gravel, field loam ? Was subsoil spread on the surface when the grounds were graded ? Is the soil ])oor or rich, and -why do you think so ? An Afpkal to '[■i-ii'. Teacheks oi- Nkw York Statk. 39 Is it stony ? ^V■hat can be done to im])ro\-e llie soil? ((leograiihy, language.) 5. GroiinJ cover. — What is on the ground — sod or weeds, f)r is it bare? What do you think would be the best ground cover, and why? (Geography, language.) 6. Ti-ecs and bitslu-s. — How man)- trees and bushes are there on the ground ? ^Vere they planted, or did the)- come up of them- selves? Make a maji showing where the principal ones are. Name all the kinds, jjutting the trees in one list and the bushes in another. Do any of the trees need pruning, and why? State whether any of them ha\-e been injured or are unhealthy-. (Geog- raphy, language.) 7. Tenants. — What animals live or have li\'ed on the school premises ? What birds' nests do you find (these may be found in winter) ? Hornets' nests ? Perhaps you can find cocoons or egg- masses of insects in winter, and the acti\'e insects themselves in spring and fall. 'What birds visit the place ? Do rabbits or mice or moles or frogs inhabit the premises ' (( ierigraphy, language.) 8. Xatii)-al feature:. — Describe any strong natural features, as rocks, ponds, streams, gro\'es. '\^diat \-ie«'s do you get from the school grounds ? (Geography, language.) 2. Exercises on the School Structures. 9. Buildings. — How man)- buildings are on the grounds, includ- ing sheds, etc.? Gu'e the sizes in lengths and widths. Brick or wood ? (."olor ? Make a niajj or chart showing the position of these structures, being careful to have the buildings properly propor- tioned with reference to the entire area. (Language, geography.) 10. Repairs needed, — Describe what condition the structures are in. Tell whether repairs are needed on foundations, side walls, roof, belfry, chimney, steps, doors, windows, paint. (Language.) 1 1. Flag pole. — ^Vhere is your flag pole ? Could it be in a better place ? How tall is it above ground ? How much in diameter at the base? ^Vhat kind of wood? Painted? How deep in the ground ? When was it put up ? What repairs does it need : (Language.) 3. General E.xercises. 12. History. — When was tlie land set aside for a school ? \Mien was the school house built ? Who built it? (History, language.) 13. Cost. — Try to find out what the land cost. What the build- ing cost. Are they worth as much now ? (History, language.) 45 Leaflet III. 14. Government. — Determine what officers have general control of the school. How did they come to be officers ? How long do they hold office? What are the duties of each? Determine whether your school receives any aid from the State. (Cjovernment.) 15. Iniprovement. — Tell what you think should be done to improve the school grounds and the school structures. (Language.) 16. Photograplis. — The teacher or some pupil should photograph the school premises, and send the picture to us. We want at least one picture of every rural school house and grounds in the State. Even a very poor photograph is better than none. Experiment Garden. — Every school ground sliould have at least one small plat on which the children can grow some plant that is useful in that community. Just now alfalfa is demanding much attention from farmers, and it is certain soon to become a very important farm crop in New York State. It is used for jjasturage and for hay. When once established, it lives for years. It is allied to clover and is a handsome plant for anv school grounds. Will not the teacher suggest to the children that they make an alfalfa bed along one side of the school grounds? It will be attractive and will teach many lessons to pupils and parents even if it is only a few square feet in size. AVe want to ]nit an alfalfa plat on every rural school ground in the State. We will supply the seed free. Alfalfa is easy to grow if only a few essential principles are kept in mind. We will send full directions to any one who applies Erom vear to vear we will gi\'e nature-study lessons on these alfalfa plats. ^\'e are anxious to start work of the above kind. It can be done at any time of the year. \A'e are already in touch with more than 400 school grounds, but we want to reach ever)' rural school ground in the State. ]]'ill not the teaeher send to us the best picee of ivork done hv any pupil in anv of the foregoing sixteen problems ! These papers we will fde, as showing the conditions of the premises of the par- ticular school. They will enable us to see the jjrogress that is being made from year to vear in the improvement of ^'our school premises. They will also enable us l)etter to give advice, when called upon to do so. Sometimes we can send to the particular school a man to give advice on the spot. Sending the best reports to the University will be a reward to the most diligent pupils. Send all reports to John W. Spencer, Nature-Studv Bureau, Ithaca, N. Y. We desire to put in the rural school houses of the State some Ax Ai'i'KAi, 1(1 j'Hi'', 'J i:a(.'iii:ks ok Ni-:w N'ork Staii:. 4r good pictures of coiinti"\- and lurin scenes. These pictures will be artistic reproductions ot meritorious ]jhotographs, and large enough to hang on the walls of tlie school room. With each pic- ture will be sent instructions for framing in order to make the picture more attracti\'e. We shall choose eight such pictures for distribution the present school )-ear [/'(• will sc-iiJ one of these pictures free to ajir rural se/iooi in the State tliat tahes i/f tioo of tlie frohleins giren al'O'i'e, an J all of I hem to sehools that take up the six- teen prohlenis. ^^'e expect to publish lists of all schools, with teachers' names, that take up this work in improving the premises of rural schools. Fi:^. y. funior Xaluralists mat;ini; ready J'o7- plantiii:^'. Tonipldns Co., X. ) '. To one ^dio is not teaching in the public schools, all this work seems to be simple enough. Such persons are likely to be impa- tient that more rapid progress is not made in introducing agricul- tural and common-life subjects into the schools. But the teacher knows that all tliis wrirk requires patience and skill. It cannot as vet be forcerl into the schools and still retain s]i(>ntaneity and J.2 l^LAFLK I 111. \-itality. It must conic- ■,'raduall)-, and jjrove itsell as it goes. Probably all public school teachers are now agreed that the schools should be jiut closely in line with the life of their various com- munities. The ijuestions now to be solved are chiefly those of means and methods, and of arousing the school constituencies to the new points of view .\ full and free discussion of the whole subject is now needed. The time is hardly yet ripe for very defi- nite courses of study in these new fields, ^lany schools are already teaching these new subjects with entire success : these schools can serve the cause b)' making their experience public. Letters ox the Subject. However, this circular is merely an appeal It is an inquiry for suggestions and co-operation, I desire to know what can be 7^'. i\'. Junior Gardaifrs al -oork in oiu- of tin XcIl' York Sc/ioo/s. accomplished in the schools of Xew York State in the direction of insiiiring and useful work for ( liildren that li"\'e in the countrv or are interested in the countr\'. 1 am sure that something needs to be done ; just what is most feasible and best the teachers must largel)- determine. .\s further suggestions, I append two letters from Xew York teacliers: /^ivm . I J/. lloUislor, rriiiiipal of l/io Corinth Pni'lic Soliools, Soiratoi;-,! Co., ,V. ]'. " ] am sen.linr; ymi un.lcr separate enver a pieture of mv class at \\cu-k Willi llic r.aluoel; lest inaeliine (fli;. d). We liave used the inaelline Imtli An Appeal to thi', Tkaci-ikks c-f Nkw Ydkk Sta'I'f., 43 as a means uf instruction m physics and chemistry and as a general demon- stration before the different classes in the school. It beautifullv illustrates some very important principles of physics and chemistry. The most mar- vellous effect, however, has been shown in the quality of the milk sold in the village. Milk was sold shi)wing a test as low as 2.9 per cent butter fat. Almost as soon as the first testing was reported, the milk showed 3.S per cent butter fat, Milk has been sent to the school from a number of dairy- men with reijuest for a test on particular cows that the parties might base their purchases of cows on the results of the test. ''In regard to the gardening with some of our lio\'s, I \\'uubi sa)' that both boys and parents are much iiiterested in the subject. We shall doubt- less start about fortv gardens of one-tenth acre each. Idie bo}"s are to keej^i an exact account of all expenses to study methods, and to do all the work. I am anticipating results in a number of directions. The Ijoys will be given something to do and to interest themselves in, which of itself is an impor- tant thing for a village boy. It will also develop a power of observation and ingenuitv. We wish to get all the information we can on potatu, tomato and squash culture. Other things will be suggested during the winter." Appriyval of the Supfriutnuient <>/ Piihiic Instrnctioii. [Pul'iis/icd i>y /i-r/Jiission.) " For man\' vears I ha\'e been making earnest efforts lo induce teachers, pupils and patrons to improve and beauti fy the school buildings and school surroundings of our State. Some |>rogress has been made, but much remains to be do\', of all others, should be removed from temptation and from tlie allurements of other occupations. It was the early theory, also, that the ar^ri- cultural student must be compelled to do manual labor in order that he be put in sympathy with it and that his attention be isolated from tendencies that might dn-ert him from farming. Tliese Wha'1' is Agricultural Education? 49 methods seem to have rested on the general theory that if you would make a man a farmer you must deprive him of everything but farming. It would be interesting to try to estimate how much this general attitude on the part of the agricultural colleges was itself responsible for the very inferiority of position that the agri- cultural student was supposed to occupy. This attitude tended to maintain a traditional class distinction or even to create such a distinction. Agricultural education must be adapted to its ends ; but it must also be able to stand alone in competition with all other education without artificial props. It is no longer neces- sary that the agricultural student wear blinders. On the other hand, the farm point of view must be kept con- stantly before the student, as the engineering point of view is kept before the student in a college of civil engineering ; but we are coming to a new way of accomplishing this. Mere teaching of the sciences that underlie agricultural practice will not accom- plish it ; nor, on the other hand, will drill in mere farm practice accomplish it. It is not the purpose of an agricultural college to make men farmers, but to educate farmers, ^^'e are not to limit the student's vision to anv one occupation, but to make one occu- pation more meaningful and attractive than it has ever been before. From the farmer's point of view a leading difficulty with the college course is that it sometimes tends to slacken a man's business energy. One cannot at the same time pursue college studies and commercial business ; and yet farming is a business. In a four years' course some students are likely to incur certain habits of ease that are difficult to overcome upon their return to the farm. How much this is a fault of the courses of instruction and how much a personal equation of the student is always worth considering. But if this is a fault of college Avork it is generic and not peculiar to colleges of agriculture. Experience has now shown that a compulsory labor system is no preventive of this tendency, at least not with students of college and university age. Student labor is now a laboratory effort, comparable with laboratory work in medicine or mechanic arts. The mature student must have some other reason for laboring than merely a rule that labor IS required. However, it is yet largely an unsolved problem with the agricultural colleges as to just how the stirring business side of farming can be sufficiently correlated with the courses of study to keep the student in touch and sympathy with affairs. With 4 50 Leaflet IV. the passing of compulsorj' student labor there has no doubt been a reaction in the direction of too little utilization of the college farm in schemes of education ; but we shall now get back to the farm again, but this time on a true educational basis. Nothing is more significant of the development of the agricul- tural colleges than tlie recent splitting up of the pjrofessorships. From agricultural chemistry as a beginning, in one form or another, there have issued a dozen chairs, first one subject and then another being separated as a teachable and administrative entity. Even the word " agriculture " is now being dropped from the pirofessorships, for this is a term for a multitude of enterprises, not for a concrete subject. Horticulture was one of the first pro- tuberances to be lopped off ; and e\'en this must very soon be di\'ided into its comjjonent parts, for there is little relationship between the eft'ort that grows apples and that grows orchids or between the market garden and landscape gardening. Even the chair of agronomv, the newest department of the colleges, must soon be separated into its units. Forty years ago mechanic arts was undi\uded. ^\'ho then would ]ia\"e prophesied such profes- sorships as experimental engineering, electrical engineering, marine engineering, railroad engineering, naval architecture, machine design ? The pjrogress of the dividing up of the mechanic arts and civil engineering marks the rate of our progress, in the terms of the Land Grant Act, "to promote the liberal and practical edu- cation of the inciustrial classes in the several pursuits and profes- sions in lile." All trades, classes and professions are to be reached with a kind of education that is related to their work. One by one we are reaching jjersons in all walks and all places. Socially, there are centuries of prejudice against the fanner. When edu- cation IS finally allowed t(j reach him in such a way as to be indispensable to him, it will at last have become truly democratic. In this spirit agriculture is di\-ided into its teachable units. The lists of divisions of the teaching force or curriculum in the larger agricultural colleges illustrate this admirably. In Illinois, for example, the title of professors and instructors are associated with such divisions as thremmatology, agronomy, pomology, oleri- culture, floriculture, soil physics, dairy husbandry, dairy manufac- ture, horses, beef cattle, swine husbandr)-, farm crops. At Cornell the coordinate departments of instruction in the College of Agri- culture are classified as agricultural chemistry, economic ento- mology, soils, agronomy, horticulture, animal husbandry with its What is Agriculturat, FjOucaiiox ? 51 sub-department of poultry' husbandry, dairy industry, agricul- tural engineering and architecture, the farm home, rural economy and sociology, out-door art (including landscape gardening), nature-study for teachers, besides miscellaneous courses — making altogether thirteen divisions. The courses now offered in the Cornell College of Agriculture, not including the winter-courses, are 76, of which 71 are to be given in the next academic year. Nearly all these courses comprise a half-year's work. While all this subdividing represents progress there are disad- \'antages attending it, because it tends to give a partial view ot the subject. The larger number of farmers must engage in gen- eral " mi.xed husbandry " rather than in specialties. Farming is a philosophy, not a mere process. The tendency of the inevitable subdividing of the subjects is to force the special view rather than the general view, as if, in medicine, students were to become specialists rather than general practitioners. The farm-philosophy idea was represented by the older teachers of agriculture. Of these men Professor Roberts is a typical example, and his work in making students to be successful, all-around farmers is not yet sufficiently appreciated. Much of this farm philosophy is now coming into the courses of instruction under the titles of rural economy, rural economics, rural sociology and the like. I have sometimes thought that the time may come when we will again have professors of '' agriculture " who will coordinate and synthe- size the work of the agronomist, soil physicist, chemist, dairyman and others. However, the dividing has not yet worked any harm, and perhaps my fears are ungrounded ; and it is certain that with increasing knowledge and specialization the courses of instruction must still further divide. Another most significant development in agricultural education is the change in attitude towards the college farm. Once it was thought that the college estate should be run as a "model farm." However, a farm that sets a pattern to the farmer must be con- ducted on a commercial basis ; yet it is manifest that it is the province of a college to devote itself to education, not i)rimarily to business. A farm cannot be a '' model " for all the kinds of farming of the commonwealth ; and if it does not represent fairly completely the agriculture of the state, it misses its value as a pattern. At all events the pattern-farm idea is practically given up. It is then a Cjuestion whether the farm shall be used merely to "illustrate," — to display kinds of tools, examples of fences and 52 Leaflet IV. fields, breeds of stock. This conception of tlie college farm is comparable with the old idea of "experiments" in agricultural chemistry : the teacher performed the experiments for the students to see. The prevailing idea of the college farm is now (or at least, I think, soon must be) that it shall be used as a true laborator}', as the student in chemistry now works first-hand with his materials instead alone of receiving lectures and committing books. Is a student studying cattle? The herds are his for measurements, testing as to efficiency, studying in respect to heredity, their response to feeding, their adaptability to specific purposes, and a hundred other problems. Cattle are as much laboratory material for the agricultural student as rocks are for the geological student or plants for the botanical student. Tech- nical books were once kept onlv in libraries ; now they are kept also in laboratories and are laboratory equipment. College museums were once only for display ; now they are also for actual use by the student. Barns are laboratories, to be as much a part of the equipment of a college of agriculture as shops are of mechanic arts. They should be in close connection with the main buildings, not removed to some remote part of the premises. Modern ideas of cleanliness and sanitation are bound to revolu- tionize the construction and care of barns. There is no reason why these buildings should be offensive. It was once thought that dissecting rooms and hospitals should be removed from proximity to other buildings ; but we have now worked these laboratories integrally into the plans of colleges. Time has now come for a closer assembling of the college barns with the college classrooms. Likewise the entire farm is no doubt to be used in the future as a laboratory, at least in the institutions of university grade — except such part as is used for pure investigation and research. \\'here, then, shall the student go to see his model liarn ? To these farms themseU'es ; here a stock farm ; there a fruit farm ; elsewhere a dairy farm. The shops in the colleges of mechanic arts have long since come to be true laboratories ; thej' do not engage in railroading or manufacturing. They do not try to "pay their wa}- ; " if they do pay their way this fact is only an incidental or secondary consideration. A college of agriculture is a teaching institution : it must have equipment and laboratories. It will be seen that the word "agriculture " has taken on a new and enlarged meaning. The farmer is not only a producer of commodities : he is a citizen, a member of the commonwealth, What is Agriculturai, Edtcai iox ' 53 and his efficiency to society and the state depends on his whole outlook. Also his personal hajjpiness depends on his outlook. He must concern himself not alone with technic al farming, but also with all the affairs that make up an agricultural community : good roads, organizations, schools, mail routes, labor movements, rural architecture, sanitation, the assthetic aspect of the country. One will be struck with the new signification of "agriculture" if he scan the titles of publications that issue from governmental agricultural departments, agricultural experiment stations, agri- cultural nature-study bureaus, agricultural colleges. I cannot close this sketch without calling attention to the fact that the college of agriculture has obligations to the farmers of its commonwealth. The very fact that every college of agricul- ture in North America is supported by public funds imposes this obligation. Moreover, the colleges of agriculture and mechanic arts stand for true democratic effort, for thev have a definite con- stituency that they are called upon to aid. It is desirable that as many persons as possible shall assemble at the college itself, but those who cannot o;o to college still have the right to ask for help. This is particularly true in agriculture, in which the interests are widely separated and incapable of being combined and s)-ndi- cated. Thereupon has arisen the great " extension " movement that, in one way or another, is now a part of the work of every agricultural college. Education was once exclusive ; it is now in spirit inclusi\e. Tlie agencies that have brought about this change of attitude are those associated with so-called industrial education, growing chiefly out of the forces set in motion by the Land Grant A( t of 1S62. This Land Grant is the Magna Charta of education : from it in this country we shall date our liberties. LEAFLET V. SUGGESTIONS FOR. NATURE-STUDY WORK.* V,Y AXXA liOTSJ'ORl) CO>rSTOCK. (tGES'I'IONS for nature-study must neces- sarily be more or less general. Nature- study should be a matter of obser- vation on the part of the pupils. The teacher's part is to indicate points for observation and not to tell what is to be seen. After the child has observed all that it is jjossible for him to see, the remainder of the storv may be told him or may be read. The objects of nature-study should Ije always in the teacher's mind. These are, primarilv, to culti\'ate the child's jiower of observation and to jjut liim in sympathy with out-of-door life. Having these objects clearly in mind, the teacher will see that the spending of a certain amount of time each day giving lessons is not the most important part of the work. A great amount of nature-study ma)- be done without spending a moment in a regular lesson. In the case of all the things kept in the school- room — /. c, growing plants, insects in cages and aquaria, tame birds and domestic animals — the children will study the prob- lems for themselves. The privilege of watching these things should be made a reward of merit. The use of nature-study readers should be restricted. The stories in tliese should not be read until after the pupils have completed their own observations on the subjects of the stories. Stories about ad\'entures of animals and adventures with ani- mals may always be read with safety, as these do not, strictly speaking, belong to nature-study. They belong rather to liter- *.Syllaljus of Lectures: Xature-Study (Animal ami Plant Life), Jlrs. A, B. Comstock. 55 5*5 Lkaflf/i V. ature and may be used most successfully to interest the child in nature. Blackboard drawings and cliarts should be used only to illus- trate objects too small for the pupil to see \N-ith the naked eye. The pupil must also be made to understand that the object drawn on the board is a real enlargement of the object lie has studied with his unaided eye. The use of a simple lens often contributes much interest to the work of observation. The compound microscope may be used to show some exceptionally interesting point, as the compound eyes of insects, the scales on the Initterflv's wing, or the viscid thread of the spider. But this is by no means necessary. Xature- study work does not actually require the use of either microscope or lens, although the latter is a desiraole adjunct. The great danger that besets the teacher just beginning nature- study is too much teaching, and too many subjects. In mv own work I would ratlier a child spent one term f.nding out how one spider builds its orb web than that he should study a dozen dif- ferent species of spiiders If the teacher at the end of the year lias opened the child's mind and heart in two or tliree directions nature-ward, she has done enough. In teaching about animals, teach no more of the anatomy than is ob\'iouslv connected with the distinctive haliits of each one ; /. ('., the hind legs of a grasshojiper arc long so that it can jump, and the ears of a rabbit are long so that it can hear the approach of its foes. ^^'llile it is desirable for the teacher tn know more than she teaches, in nature-study she may well be a learner ^^•ith her pupils since the)' are likeh' any day to read some page of nature's book never before read by human eyes, 'i'his attitude of companion- ship in stud\'ing with her pnipils will have a great \'alue in enab- ling her to maintain happy and pleasant relations -with them. It has also great disciplinary value. Reasons for and against graded courses in nature-study. The question whether there should be a graded course in nature-study is decidedly a query with two answers. The reasons why there should not be a graded course, are: ist. The work should be spontaneous and should be suggested each day by the material at hand. Mother Nature follows no Sur.r,F.S'i'in\s I'dR Natuki'.-S-i i.iin' Work. ^7 schedule. She refuses to produce a violet one day, an oriole the next, and a blue butterfly on the third. 2d. A grided course means a hard and fast course which each teacher must follow whether or not her tastes and training coincide with it. 3d. There is no natural grading of nature-stud)' work. A sub- ject suited for nature-study may be given just as successfully in the first as in the fifth grade. There is onlv one reason why a nature-study course should be graded, and that is so cogent that it outweighs all the reasons on the other side : the training of the grade teacher in nature-study is at present so limited in subject-matter that if the course were ungraded the same work would be given over and over in the suc- cessive grades until the pupils became utterly weary of it. To many a pupil in the lower grades to-day, nature-study means the sprouting of beans and peas and nothing more. As a matter of experience, we believe that after a nature-study subject is once studied it should be dropped entirel)-, the pupil should not again meet it in the schoolroom until he finds it in its respecti\'e science in the high school or college. On this account, we have been persuaded that a graded course, or at least a consecutive course, is necessary. The following suggestions about grading the course are given with a hope of being helpful, and not because we believe that the courses indicated are necessarily the best courses possible. W'c have graded each subject so that a teacher may follow her own tastes and inclinations, and may not be forced to teach zoology when her interests are entirely with botanv, or vice versa. We have tried to gi^'e a distincti\'e trend to the observations for each year, and have suggested a line along which the work may be done. As a matter of fact, however, the time to study any living thing is when you chance to find it. If you find an interesting cater- pillar or cricket or bird, study it, whatever your grade of work. The probabilities are that it may be long before you chan<-e ujjon these same species again. It has been the experience of most teachers that the lower grades are much more interested in nature-study than are the higher. Especially are the seventh and eighth grades difficult to interest. Therefore, we have made this part of the course economic in its bearing, hoping that this may appeal to the grown-up> feeling of pupils of these grades. 58 Leaflet V INSECTS. First Grade. The first year of "work with insects may well be restricted to familiarizing the pupils with the three most striking phases in the life of insects with complete metamorphosis, /. c, the larva;, the pupre, and the winged insects. ^Nlotlis and butterflies are espe- cially adapted for this work with the small children. Fall work. — In September there are still many cate-rpillars feed- ing. Bring them in the schoolroom and feed them in breeding cages. For different forms of cheap breeding cages, see Insect Life, pp. T^zii-^T^o ; Cornell Teachers' Leaflet, No. 5 (Xo. XIX, this volume) ; Lessons in X'^ature-.Study, p. 45. During October many of the hairy caterpillars will be found hurrying along in quest of suitable winter quarters. The ■; should be brought in and put in box cages ha\-ing sand or dirt in the bot- tom. The}' are seeking secluded corners in which to curl up and hide during the cold weather. Some of them pass the winter in their cocoons, and some do not. Insect Life, pp. 239-241 ; Manual for Study of Insects, pp. 317-324 ; Moths and ISutterflies, (/'), pp. 191-19S. Bring in as many cocoons as possible. November or December after the lea\-es have fallen from the trees, is the best time in which to hunt for the cocoons of Cc-iropia, rroiiu-fhca, and Cxiithia. Insect Life, pp. 194-196 ; Moths and Butterflies, (/;), pp. 1 19-180. Teach the pupils the difference between the cocoon and the pupa. The pupa is the quiescent form of the insect. The cocoon is the silken bag covering it, and is always made by the cater- pillar before it changes to a pupa. If possible bring in some butterfly lar\-M. In September many may be found. The cabbage butterfly especially is always with us. Insect Life, p. 245. Also the larvte of the black swallow-tail may be easily found. Insect Life, p. 243 ; Everyday Butterflies, p. 130 ; ]Moths and Butterflies, (/'), p. 39. Show the children (do not tell them) that the butterfly caterpil- Lars do not make cocoons, but that the naked pupa is suspended by a silk button, and in some cases also by a silk thread. Many teachers complain that but few of the moths are able to get out of the cocoons. The usual reason for this is that in the heated atmosphere of the schoolroom the cocoons become too dry. Suggestions for Na-j-iirk-S runv \\'ork. 59 To obviate this, the cocoons should be dipped In water every week or tv;o. Spring work. — During the spring term use the apple-tree tent- caterpillars. Cornell Teachers' Leaflet, No. 5 (No. XIX, this volume); Moths and Butterflies, (/'), p. 201. Show the four stages of the insect : egg, caterpillar, pupa, and moth. Pay especial attention to the way in which the caterpillars grow. Suniinaiy of methods. — This whole year's work may be done with no regular " lessons," and all the time recjuired will be the care of the breeding cages and the time given to hunting for the caterpillars and cocoons. The child's reading may be selected from the many stories of the caterpillars, moths and butterflies. Yet be very careful to make each child understand that he him- self is studying out the especial story of each caterpillar and cocoon in the schoolroom. Second Gradf.. The plan for the second year is to continue the study of the life-histories of insects. The pupil, ha\'ing learned the different stages of the moths and butterflies, should learn that all insects do not experience such marvelous changes of form. Fall work. — Arrange a breeding cage like figs. 288, 289, Insect Life, \). 329, placing fresh sod in the flower pot and covering the lamp chimney with a square of wire netting. Push the glass chimney down into the earth so as to allow no crevices through which the insects may escape. In such a cage, place grasshoppers and crickets of all sizes, and studv their growth. Insect Life, VV- 33-37- Show the pupils that the young grasshopper looks like the old one except that the wings are shorter ; the same is true of crickets. Keep the sod damp so the grass will not become dry ; and when it gets too old replace it with other sod. A good way to Vtt\) these insects alive and to keep the children interested in them is to plant wheat and grass seed in several flower pots, and then to move the glass chimney from pot to pot, giving the insects fresh pasturage when needed. As early as possible start some aijuaria. Cornell Teachers' Leaflet, No. 11 (No. XII, this volume) ; Insect Life, pp. 330-332. The mosquito is one of the most available insects for study in the a(|uarium. Insect Life, pp. 131-136 ; Lessons in Nature- Study, p. 12. 6o I,F.AFI,K/1' V The nymphs of dragon flies and damsel flies and many others may be studied during the entire winter. Insect Life, pp. 140-142 ; Cornell Teachers' Leaflet, No. 11 (No. XII, this volume) ; Outdoor Studies, p. 54. Those that have cannibalistic habits should be kejjt ai)art, each one in a separate jar. They may be fed by drop- ping into the jar a bit of raw beefsteak tied to the end of a string The pjurpose of the string is tliat the uneaten meat may be with- drawn before it decays. It should not be left in the water more than twentv-four hours. The insects do not need feeding more than twice a week. S/>ri//ff 7LV/-/C. — In the spring get new material for the aquaria. In pools wliere there are many dead leaves look for the caddice worms that build the log caliin cases, for these may be kept in aquaria that have no running water. Insect Life, ]>. 149. While we advise the introduction of the acpiaria during the second year, their use should be continued during the following four grades ; there are alwa)-s new things to study in ponds and streams, and nothing so fascinates a child as watching the move- ments of tliese little denizens of tlie water. Siniiiiiary of iiuihods. — There need be no set lessons in the work of the second \'ear, unless the teacher in a few words, now and then, chooses to call attention to certain things as the occasion seems to demand. Tlie object of the year's work is to teach the pui)il the life histories of insects which have no (piiescent or pupa stage, and this should be accomplished by simple observation of specimens bred in the schoolroom. Third (trade. The general subject of this year's work may well be the Homes of Insects. This is a most interesting topic, and if well taught will inspire the pupils to much indiyidual obseryation and collecting. The questions to be asked concerning insect homes are : Of what material arc they made ? How are they made ? What is tlie juirpose of the home? Isit made by the insect for itself to liye in, or is it made by the mother for the protection of her young? Is it made as a protection for the insects while they are eating, or do the\' go out to feed and come back only to rest and spend the night or day ? Fall loork. — Leaf rollers : Insect Life, \i. 206 ; "Wa\-s of the Six- Footed, p. 1 19. Leaf miners : Insect Life, p. 20S ; Ways of the Six- Footed, [). 29. Suggestions for XATrkK-S ruiiv Work. 6i Galls : Insect Life, p. 210 ; Outdoor Studies, pp. 18, 38-39. Fall web worm : Insect Life, p. 200. Scallop shell moth : Insect Life, p. 201. Nests of silver spotted skipjier : Insect Life, p. 203 ; Every- day Butterflies, p. 190. Bag worms : Insect Life, p. 204. Ant lions : Outdoor Studies, p. 81. Carpenter bees : Ways of the Six-Footed, p. 108. Tiger beetle larvje : Insect Life, pp. 270-272. All kinds of cocoons are found by the children. Ask concerning the cocoons : Where did you find them ? Were they in protected places ? Why ? Of these nests there are many more than those mentioned above. In fact, to one who sees what he looks at, every plant, every tree, every fence corner and every foot along the country path contains many most interesting homes. The leaf rollers and leaf miners are the most common and most easily found of all. Spring 7L'ork. — The spring work in this subject may he to study the way in which caddice worms make their houses ; take a cad- dice worm out of its house and watch it build another. This is a new phase of the studv of caddice worms, "\^'ays of the Si.v- Footed, p. 133. Studv the homes of beetles under sticks and stones, and find the homes of the engraver beetles under bark. Insect Life, p. 216. This work must necessardy be done 1)\' the pupils out of school hours, and their discoveries and sjiecimens of homes should be made topics for lessons for the wliole school. During this term begin a butterfly calendar, made on the same plan as the bird calendar. A collection of butterflies might be started for the schoolroom in connection with the calendar. Study the specimens caught and determine whether they hibernated as adults or chrvsalids. If their wings are battered and torn, they spent the winter as adults. If they are bright in colors and their wings perfect, they spent the ^^■inter in tlie chrysalis state. Hints for collecting insects : Cornell Teachers' Leaflet, No. 7 (No. XVIII, this volume) ; Insect Life, pp. 2S3-314 and pp. 48-49. How to Know the Butterflies. Summarv of methods. — The work in the third grade, as outlined, requires a lesson period now and then when single specimens are brought in by individual pupils. Each pupil should examine the specimen, and after that the lesson ma\- lie given. 62 Leaflet V. Fourth Grade. After having studied Insect Homes, the pupils will be ready to take up the broader subject, How Insects Live. The work of this year may be given on this subject. In order to study the life-histories of insects, the pupils should know some things about insect anatomy. If the work as indi- cated in the previous grades has been followed, the pupils know the number of legs, wings, and compound eyes most insects nave, without ever having killed a specimen or having received a special lesson in insect anatomy. Now teach the children how insects breathe and how they eat. Show the spiracles on the body of any caterpillar which is not hairy ; they may be seen on the abdo- men of a grasshopper or of a butterfly that has not too many large scales to cover them. After they have seen these spiracles or breathing pores, give a lesson, illustrated by chart or blackboard, showing that these holes lead to the breathing tubes of the bodj^. Manual for the Study of Insects, pp. 73-75. To show how insects eat, allow the pupils to watch the follow- ing insects in the breeding cages while feeding : a grasshopper; a leaf beetle (potato beetle is a good example) ; anv caterpillar ; an ant ; and a wasp. Show that all these have mouth parts made for biting. Let the pupils see an aphid sucking the juice of a plant ; this may be done by bringing in a twig infested by aphids. Let the pupils see the water bugs in the aquarium eat. Insect Life, pp. 123-131, and pp. 137-140. Let them watch a fly, a lioney bee, and, if possible, a butterfly or moth, eat. All these have mouth parts made for sucking. All this work should be original investigation on the i)art of the pupils. After the pupils find out how insects breathe and eat, let them see how each insect lives a life adapted to its own peculiar needs. Try to feed some cabbage worms on clover or grass. Then try turnip or mustard leaves, and watch the result. Change the potato beetle larvfe to some other plant, and watch the result. Let the pupils first find out how the insects breathe in the water. Each insect in the aquarium tells a different story as to its way of getting air. The teacher will find all these stories indicated in the chapters in Insect Life devoted to pond and brook insects. Call especial attention to protective coloring of insects. Show that \\'hen an insect resembles its surroundings in c(jlor it is Suggestions for Nature-Study Work. 63 thereby enabled to escape its enemies ; or, if need be, is enabled to creep upon its prey unobserved. Note the color of the grasshopper in the road ; color of meadow grasshopper ; color of tlie caterpillars of the cabbage butterfly (green and hard to find). Notice the shape and color of walking sticks ; color of the katydids. Note the bright color of the larvse of potato l)eetle. Why ? (They are distasteful to birds, and their colors advertise the fact.) Study the Monarch butterfly and the Viceroy. Everyday Butterflies, p. 95 and p. 297 ; Ways of the Six- Footed, p. 39. Bring out strongly in all this work that the insect in order to live must have its special food plant and must escape notice of its enemies. This is the proper place to begin the study of the valuable work done by birds m destroying insects. In addition to this general work, study especially the wasps. Solitary Wasps : Mud daubers. Bring in their nests and examine them. Ways of the Six-Footed, p. 96. How are the nests provisioned, and for what purpose were they made? Find, if possible, nests of other solitary wasps. Insect Life, p. 218, p. 262, p. 264. Social ^^'asps : Bring in a deserted nest of \ellow-jackets. Of what is it made ? How ? What for ? Do the wasps store honey ? Do they live as a colony during the winter ? .\ll these questions may be answered by a pupil who knows of a 3'ellow-jackets' nest in the fall and watches it during the winter. For the teacher there are discussions of these insects in Manual for .Study of Insects, pp. 660-664. ^Vasps and their Ways. Continue the butterfly collection and the butterfly calendar. Spring work. — In the spring, begin a collection of moths for the schoolroom. Insect Life, p. 50. Cater])illars and Moths. In the spring, notice when the first liouse-flies appear. What happens to the house-fly in winter? (Send for Circular No. 35, second series, Div. of Entomology of Department of Agricul- ture, \\'ashington, D. C, for the life-history of the house-fly.) Explain that one female destroyed early in the season means thou- sands fewer late in the season. Encourage the children to bring to tlie schoolroom all sorts of flies and compare them with the house-fly. The object of this is to teach something of the wonderful variety of forms among small and inconspicuous insects. Make a collection of flies for the schoolroom. For description of flies, see Insect Life, pp. 83-S4. A good plan for the spring work is to keep the pupils interested 64 Leaflet V in the first appearance, after the vicissitudes of winter, of each insect which it is possible for them to find. Note that insects do not appear before their food plants appear. Summary of objects a)id methods. — The questions to be answered during the whole year's work are : How do the Insects live, — on what do they feed ? How do they escape their enemies ? What happens to them in winter ? How are the new broods started in the spring? The work is chiefly observation, but occasional les- sons may be given and stories may be told to keep the interest in the work from flagging. Fifth Grade. Fall uwi-k. — Study the Bees and Ants. Fit up ants' nests. Insect Life, p. 278. Teach the whole life-history by allowing the pupils to colonize the nests. Manual for Study of Insects, pp. 633-639 ; Insect Life, p. 271. Make observations upon the ci^gs, piipic, workers, males, females. What are the winged forms that appear in swarms in June and July. Let the pupils observe the relation of ants to aphids. This may be done on almost any shrub or roadside plant. Home Nature- Study Lesson 1904, No. S. The teacher shoukl read Sir John Lubbock's " Ants, Bees and Wasps." Many stories on these subjects mav be told and read, especiallv those concerning the habits of exotic ants and ant wars which the children are not likely to see ; also of the slave-making ants. These sla\-e-making ants are quite common in New York State ; their nests may be found under stones. Thev resemble the brown mound-builder ant ; the slaves are black. Spring ic'ork. — In the sjDring work in this grade, study the habits of the honey bee. .\n observation hive is desirable but not necessary. Bring in the honeycomb filled with honey. If there are apiarists in your neighborhood, they Avill gladly give you speci- mens of brood in the comb. Read The Bee People and the Manual for Study of Insects, p. 673. Develop all the facts of the wonderful life in the hive by letting the pupils observe them as far as possible. Then give them the many interesting stories : Story of the Workers. Story f)f tlie Queen. SUGOrSIIOXS I'DK Na lURK-SrUDY ^V0RK. 65 Story of the Drone, Story of the Bee Larva. Story of Honey Making. Story of Wax and Comi) INlaking, Storv of the Swarm. In connection with the study of the honey bee, study the bum- ble bee. Manual for Study of Insects, pp. 672-673 ; Insect Life, p. 256. Begin with the study of the big queen that appears in May or June. Show that she is of great benefit to us and must not be harmed or frightened. Let the bumble bee's nest be a problem for summer observation, and finish the study in the ne.\t grade in the fall. Siiiiiiiiarx of objects and iiicthoJs. — The work of this year should ha\'e for its objects the harmonious life of social insects ; their unselfislr work for each other ; their devotion to their respecti\e colonies ; their ways of building and of defending their habitations. The work should be Ijased upon observations made by the pui)ils in and out of the schoolroom. Many lessons should Ije gi\-en, mostly in the form of stories. Ways of the Six-Footed, pp. 55-94. Sixth CJradf.. Fall luork. — Study the spiders. Lessons in Nature-Study, p. 103 ; Insect Life, pp. 223-232. Cornell Teachers' Quarterl)', final number (No. X\', this volume). In order to study spiders, the)- need not be handled with bare hands. While all spiders are \"enom()us t(j the same extent, per- haps, that a mosquito or a bee is \enomous, there is only one species in the eastern L'nited States (and that is \'ery rare) the bite of which need be feared by human beings. The use of spiders in nature-study does not have to do with handling li\ing specimens, but rather with the liabits of the differ- ent species and the building of the webs. Iir catching spiders to bring into the schoolroom, use the method indicated by Pro- fessor Kellogg in Nature-Study Lessons. Capture the specimen by the use of a [nil box : take the box in one hand and the cover in the other, and catch the spider by sudilenly closing the box over it. 'I'he pupils should be made to obser\-e the chief dilferences between spiders and insects : /. c, spiders have two regions of the body instead of three as in insects ; eight legs instead of six, 5 fi6 IjKafi.f.t V. simple e)-es instead of compound. Compare sjjiders with daddy- long-legs. If the teaclier chooses to kill a specimen and show the arrange- ment of the eyes and the sjjinnerets under the microscope, she may do so. This is not necessary, although I have seen it done successfully in the sixth grade. Diagrams and blackboard draw- ings may be used instead of the microscope. Let the pupils obser\'e the uses of silk hy tlie spider : I. Snare for ])re)'. 2. To enwrap jjrey when first entangled. 3. Nests for eggs. 4. Lining for habitations, 5. Means of locomotion. Litroduce the grass spider into the schoolroom in glass jars con- taining grass sod, and let the pupils_obser\-e it at work. Encourage a study of cobwebs. Capture the owner of an orb web, and bring it in a glass jar to the schoolroom. Try to give it its natural en\"ironment ; /. r., some sort of frame or branch of tree on which it niav fasten its web. The orb web : i. How is it made? 2. Uf how many kinds of silk ? 3. Tlie wa\' the spiral tliread is arranged as shown by dra\\'- ings. 4. Tlie jiosition of the spider on the web. 5. The way the spider passes from one side of tlie web to the other 6. The way it treats its ]-irey wlien the "\-ictim is once entangled. Tlie engineering aliilitv shown in making this web is one of the most niar^'elous tilings m all the realm of animal life. These ol)servations may well co\-er two montlis of this term. .Studv the ballooning spiders, the jumpting spiders, the running sjiiders, and the crab spiders. .Study as nianv egg-sacs of spiders as piossible. .Another topic for stud\- during the fall term is the Songs of Lisects. Insect Life, p. 235. ISring m the katydids, crickets, and meadow grasshop[)ers, jjlace them in cages containing green sod, and observe them while tliey are singing. Note that only the males sing. Show the ears of the crickets, katydids, and meadow grass- lioppers in the elbows of their front legs. The ear of the grass- hopper is on the side of the segment of the abdomen next to the tliorax. "\^'ays of the Six-Footed, jip. 3-27. Stud)' snowy tree cricket, ^[anual for Study of Lisects, p. iiS. If possible, get a cicada as these insects continue to sing through the warm days of September. Show tlie cover to the drums on the lower side of the common cicada. Cornell Nature-Study IJulle- t'n. No. r, ]). 24 (No. "^'I, this \-olunie), Tliis can be made a most SUGGESTKJNS FOR X ATU RF,-S ['UD V \\ORK. 67 interesting subject, and pupils should be encouraged to do obser- vation work outside of school. Begin a general collection for sclioolroom. Sfriiis; work. — Continue making a general collection for the schoolroom, and specialize in this direction. When an insect is brought in and added to the collection, if the teacher knows the insect, a lesson should be given on its life and habits. This con- necting of the life and habits of the insects with the collection of dead specimens is of greater value from a nature-study point of Tiew than the collection itself. Summary of methods. — ^Vhile this year's work must be based on the observations of the pupils in the schoolroom and out-of- doors, yet many interesting lessons may be given by the teacher. Seventh (iR.vDE. The study of this entire year may be the relation ot insects to flowers. JNIost of the references are given in the Plant-life work for this grade. The insect work maybe limited to : What insects \isit flowers^ How do they carry pollen ' How does each kind of insect reach the nectar? AVhich insects are robbers, and which are true pollen carriers? The use of pollen by insects. Outdoor Studies, pp. 7-12. Take up the study of golden rod and its insect \'isitors, /, (•., let the pupils watch a bunch of golden rod and note all the insect visitors. For directions concerning this work see Outdoor Studies, pp. 29-46. In the same way take up the study of asters and the late flowers, and their insect visitors. Describe the visitor ; what it does ; what part of the plant it visits. Summary of objects and methods. — The object of this whole year's work is to show the beautiful inter-relation between insects and flowers. The studies must necessarily be made in the held. But many delightful lessons may be given on the structure of flowers, that make of greatest use to the flowers tlie work of insect visitors. Eighth Gk.^uio. The object of this year's work is the economic side of insect- study. Idany pupils do not continue these studies to high school or college. Vet if they have homes with gardens or trees in city or countr\-, tiie)- must learn to cope vrith the many insect enemies 68 Leaflet V tliat feed upon cultivated plants. They should also learn to dis^ criminate between insect friends and foes. They should learn the best methods of combating the foes and preserving the friends. Explain first that in fighting an insect enemy we must know how it eats. If it inserts its beak in the stem of the plant there is no use trying to kill it by putting poison on the leaves. Common Insect Foes. To be studied in the schoolroom : Fall work. — Codlin-moth. Insect Life, ]i. iSo. Show work on an apple, and give methods of destroying it. Plum curculio. Insect Life, p. 1S2. The pomace flies. Insect Life, p. 184. Scale insects. Manual for Study of Insects, pp. 165-174. Potato beetle. Manual for Study of Insects, ]). 176 Spring 'iuork. — Tussock moths and canker worms. Circular No. 9, 2d Series, Dept. Agr., Div. of Ent., "Washington, 1). C\ Cornell Teachers' Circular, No. i. Cabbage «-orms. How to Know the Butterflies. Currant worms. Manual for Study of Insects, pp. 613-614. Plant lice or aphids. Insect Life, pp. 177-178. Car])et beetle. Circular No. 5, 2d Series, Dept. Agr., ^\"ashing- ton, 1). C. ; Manual for Study of Insects, \). 539. Clothes moth. ?\Ianual for Stud}- of Insects, p)p 257-258 ; Cir- cular No. 36, 2d Series, Dept. Agr., W'asliington, D. C. Tent caterpillar. Cornell 'Peachers' Leaflet, No. 5 (No. XIX, tliis volume). A studv of s])ra\'ing should lie made. Insects and Insecticides, pp. 39-56. Spra\- Calendar, distributed free by the Cornell Agri- cultural J'Lxperiment Station. hnpurtant Insecticides. Farmers' ISulletin No. 127, Dept. Agr., Washington, D. C. IxsEcr Friends. Fall Wtirk. — Lady bugs. Insect Life, p. 179. Aphis lions. Insect Life, j). 178; "Ways of tlie Six-Footed, p. 125. Red clover and tlie bunil)le bee, Parasitic insects. Manual for Study of Insects, pp. 621-630. Spring luork. — liees and orchard in blossom. Siiiiunarx of mctliods. — Tlie obser\'ations ma\- be matle m the schoolroom or out-of-doors. There shoidd be obser\ations of Suggestions for Naturi-,-Study Work. 69 experiments in spraying. This may be accomplished in most localities by encouraging the pupils to visit orchards undergoing the operation of spraying. However, by means of syringe or watering pot, the infested plants brought into the schoolroom may be sprayed and the results noted. Lessons should be given on the importance of preserving insect friends while we are destroying insect enemies. OTHER ANIMALS ADAPTED FOR NATTJBE-STUDY. The Toad and Frog. The study of either of these two species is delightful spring work for any grade. Cornell Teachers' Leaf- let, Xo. 9 (Xo. X\'I, this volume) ; Wilderness Ways, p. 25. Salamanders or Efts. Familiar Life of the Roadside, Fislies. Obserwations upon goldfish or minnows kept in an aquarium should be made the basis of lessons upon the life of fishes. Study: (i) The shape of the body ; see how it is especially adapted to rapid movement through the water. (2) 'Lhe shape and arrangement of the fins, and their uses. (3) How the fish propels itself through the water. (4) How the fish breathes. (5) The shape of the fish's mouth, and how and what it eats. (6) Experiment to ascertain the ability of the fish to see and hear. Cornell Teachers' Leaflet, Xo. 21 (Xos. XIII and XXXYI, this volume). Encourage observations of habits of different species of fish common in our ponds and streams. Study their eggs and the ]jlaces where the)' are found. Teach tjie children the reason for the game laws, and impress upon them a true respect for those laws. Food and Game Fishes, Mice. Some house mice in an improvised cage may be placed in the schoolroom, and the habits of the little creatures observed. Cive them paper to see how they make their nests. Xote how and what they eat, and how they clean themselves. Xote shape of teeth and their use. If possible, study the wild mice. Squir- rels and Other Fur Bearers, p. 11 1 ; Wild Life, p 171. Squirrels and Chipmunks. The work on these animals must be based on out-of-door observations. Try to get the pupils to dis- cover for themsehes answers to the following ([uestions : How and where do they travel ? "What do they eat ? Where and how do they carry their food ? Do they store it for winter ? If so, where i" \Vhat do they do in winter? Squirrels and Other Fur Bearers, p. 15, p. 134 ; ^^'ild Xeighbors, [). i. 7° I.i:aflk'1' Y. Rabbits. — A domesticated rabbit sliould, if possible, be kept in tlie schoolyard so that the pupils may make their own observa- tions upon its habits. Let them study : How and what it eats. The shape of its teeth. The form and use of the ears. How- does it travel ? 'What sort of tracks does it make, and why ? From these observations lead the pupils to think of the life of the wild rabbit, how it is adapted to escape from its enemies and to get its food. \\'ays of Wood Folk, p. 41 ; Story of Raggylug. Giiliii'a pigs. — These little animals are easily kept in the school- room, and, though not particularly interesting in their habits, thev prove attracti\'e to the smaller children and may l)e studied in the same way as the tjther animals. Domestic animals. — These need not be studied in the schoolroom, as the pupjils, if tliey have opportunitv, can make the observations at home. .Studies of the horse, cow, ]iig, sheep, and goat, and also tlie cat and dog may be made most interesting. Such ques- tions as these may be asked concerning each : What is the char- acteristic form of the animal? ^^'hat is its clothing? What does it eat? How are its teeth adapted to its food? What is its chief use to man ? Hdw does it tra^-el, slow or fast ? How are its feet adapted to its way of running or walking' Has it a language? How man}' emotions can it express by sound ? How many can it express by action ? H(jw does it fight, and what are its weapons ? What sort of life did its wdd ancestors live ? How did they get their food, and how did they escape from their enemies ? Siiiitinary of methods of iiatiirc-stiidx of animals. — Study only so mu(-]i anatomy as is clearly adapted to the animal's ways of li\-ing. ()bscr\'ations made by the pupils should be arranged into lessons by either pupil or teacher. Such lessons make excellent English tliemes, and the)' nia)' lie adapted to any grade. BIRDS. ; Begin tlie study of birds by the careful study of some domes- ticated species that may be obserx'ed closely and for a lono- ]ieriod. The hen is perhaps the best for this purpose. Study carefully all of the adaptations of her anatomy to her life neces- sities. Stud\' shape of her bod)' ; the feathers ; the bill ; her food; how she eats ; drinks ; the shape of her feet ; their covering ; how- she sees ; hears ; smells ; sleepjs ; study the life of a chick ; study the language of chick, hen and cock ; embryology of a chick. Study a robin or some bird that builds near houses. Xote all its habits from the time it ajipears in spring until autumn. Suggestions for Naturk-Study Work. 71 Bird houses and bird protection. Usefulness of birds. Our Native Birds, Lange. Publications of U. S. Dept. Agr. Summary of methods. — It is much more important that the pupil know the habits of one species than that he should know b}' name many species. Therefore encourage patient watching and careful observation concerning the things which birds do. Such obser- vations may be made into lessons by pupil or by teacher for the benefit of all the pupils. First Book of Birds, and .Second Book of Birds ; Bird Lore ; The Story of the Birds ; Bird Neighbors. PLANTS. First Grade. Fall ti'nii. — Let the children stvidy the different forms and the colors of lea\'es. V,y no means teacli the botanical terms for all the shapes of lea-\'es ; simply let the children gather and bring in all the different kinds of leaves they can find. Let them draw the different forms in their blank books. Press leaves and mount them. The object of this work is to give the child an idea of the great number of leaf forms and colors, and to get him interested in observing them. References : Botany, Bailey, pjp. 90-100 ; Les- sons with Plants, ppj. 79-90 ; Oray's How Plants Grow, chapter on Leaves and Forms of Leaves ; Elements of Botany, pp. 89-93. Winter ami spriiii^- terms. — I^et the children study vegetables. The following questions should be answered concerning a vege- table. What part of the plant is it ? Does it grow below or above ground ? ^^"hat sort of leaf has it ? What sort of flower ? What sort of fruit or seed ? Lessons with Plants, pp. 353, 356, 364 ; First Studies, pp. 50, 51, 174; Botany, Bailey, pp. 31-37 ; Cornell Teachers' Quarterly, No. 7 (No. XXXIX, this volume). Second Grade, Teach the use of the flower. Do this by bringing in all flowers possible, and show that as the flower fades the fruit becomes evi- dent. Let the pupils observe for themselves the fact that the flower exists for tlie sake of the fruit. Interest the pupils in all kinds of fruits and seeds. This is not the place to teach seed dispersion, but simply the forms and colors of fruits and seeds. Let the pupils also observe that insects carry ]jollen from flower to flower. Do not give the e.xplanation of this to children of this age, but let them see the bees at work. 72 Leaflet V. For this work see Plant ^^'orld, l)y Mrs. liergen, p|i. S0-107. Let the pupils oljserve the following things in plant physiology : Flowers sleeji : Botan\', Bailey, p. 50 ; I,es.sons with Plants, p. 402 ; Plants, Coulter, pp. 9, 10, 4S ; P^lements of Botany, p. 98. Plants turn toward the light : Flenients of Botany, p. 100 ; Botany, Bailey, p. 50 ; First Studies, p. 136. Effect of frost on flowers and lea\'es. ]]'infer and sprint; work. — Seed germination: First Studies, jip. 1-24 ; Lessons with Plants, pp. ;i6- > r ; Piotany, Bailey, \)\). 164-171 ; Cornell Teachers' Leaflet, Xo. i (No. XXA'IIL this \'olume) ; Plants, p. 307 ; Lessons in Nature-Study, p. 22. I,et the pupils observe in the field : Position of lea\'es \\dien first open. A Reader in Potanv, liy Xewell, Part f, p. 84. Position of leaves and flowers in the rain. First Studies, ji. 135 ; Elements of Botany, pp. 175-176 ; I'lants, p. 51. Thikj) C'iU--\nE. Fall work. — The fall work of this grade ma)- be (i) The way flo\\'ers make fruit, /. ('., the wav the fruit is formed from the flower. (2) 'Phe dis])ersu)n of seeds. Fruits. First Studies, pji. 168-171 ; I^essons with Plants, pp 251-310; Botany, I:!ailev, pp. 147-157. Seed dispersion. First Studies, p. 176; Plant World, pp. 133- 156 ; Little \Vanderers, by Morle)- ; Seed Dispersal, bv Beal ; Cornell 'i'eachers' Quarterly, No. 2 (No. VIH, this volume) ; Seed Travelers, by ^^"eed ; Botany, Bailey, p. 158. Let the pupils observe : " How some plants get u]j in the world." First Studies, p. 150 ; I^essons \\\\\\ Plants, ]i. 396 ; Botany, Baile\-, p. ro8. Spi-iiii:^ work. — Opening of the buds. Lessons with Plants, pp. 48-63 ; P'irst Studies, p. 33. Arrangement of buds. Lessons with Plants, pj). 63-69. I^xpansion of bark. Lessons with Plants, pp. 69-72. Fourth CrR.4DE. The object of this year's work may be the teaching of the \-alue of earth, air. light, and water upon plants. Fall work. — Experiments to show these to be carried on in schoolroom. Experiments to show value of earth to plants : (i) Plant seeds in fertile earth; poor earth; clean sand or sawdust. SuGGKsrioNs FOR Nature-Study \\'crk. 73 (2) Plant seeds in sawdust and on cotton batting placed on water in a jar. Experiments to show use of light to plants : (i) Sow seeds in two boxes of earth prepared just alike. Place one in the window, one in a dark closet, and note results. (2) Place house plants from greenhouse in a window, and note change of position of leases. (3) The stor_v of the sunflower. Experiments showing use of water to plants : (i) Place a very much wilted cut plant in water, and note result. (2) Place seeds in earth which is dry, and in earth which is kept moist. (3) Plant seeds on batting floating on a tumbler of water, and note results. These experiments should extend o\'er several weeks. U'liihT and s/^ri/ig work. — ISegin the stud)' of trees. ( Mioose some tree in the schooh'ard, if possible, and make this the basis of the work. The following is an outline for the study of a maple tree : Pegin obser\'ations in January. ^Nlake drawings of the tree, showing the relations of branches to trunk and general outline. Note the following details : The color of trunk and branches in Januar\-, and the color in P'ebruary and March ; when the buds begin to swell ; the arrangement of Inids ; watch closely to determine whether a bud develops into a blossom or a leaf ; the peculiarities of bark on trunk and branches ; do the leaves or the blossoms appear first ; the shape and color of tlie blossoms ; draw them and stud)' them thoroughlv ; the color and position of the lea\'es when the)' first appear ; draw the different stages of the unfolding of the lea\'es ; keep a calendar of all the vear's history of the tree ; when in full leaf make another drawing of the whole tree ; study the tree from below, and if possible from above, to show arrangement of leaves in reference to light ; make drawings of the fruit wlien it is formed ; study how it travels ; when the first autumn tints appear ; make colored draw- ings of the tree in its autumn foliage, and note when leaves begin to fall and when the branches are finall)' bare ; note different form of maple in the open and ma[ile in the forest. In connection with the )'ear's histor\' of the tree, stud)' the tree from an economic point of \'iew. Make a special study of sugar- making in connection \\\\.\\ the maple tree. Study maple wood. To do this get a quarter section of a piece of maple log and study 74 Leaflet V. the grain lengthwise and in cross sections. Study all the indus- tries possible in wliich maple is used. Devote one notebook to all the work on the niajjle tree, and at the end summarize the observations. For drawing of trees, see Cornell Teachers' Leaflet, No. 12 (Nos. XXIX and XXX, this volume). Home Nature-Study, Vol. V, Nos. 2, 5. FiF'ni (trade. The work during this grade may be devoted to plant physiol- ogy. For this work use First Studies of Plant Life, Atkinson. The experiments described in this book are simple and excellent; they give the pupil definite knowledge of the life processes of plants, and the use to the plant of roots, stems, leaves, flowers, and fruit. Continue studies of trees. Select some other species than the one studied during the last grade. Study it in the same way Note the dift'erenees between the two. Two or three contrasting species niav thus l)e studied. SkXTH (iRADE. Ha\'ing studied in llie pre-\-ious vear the uses of different parts of the ]ilant, the pupil will be fitted now to take up the general sid)ject of weeds. Take some common forms and let the pupils observe that they grow where other [ilants do not grow, or that they drive out other plants ; then study the s[)ecial reasons why each kind of weed is able to do these things. ISotany, Bailev, jip. 214-222 ; Flements of ]!otany, p)). 196-205. During the autumn another subject for study in this grade is ^Miis/irooins. Lead the pupds to see how these flowerless jjlants jirodvice seen, and let them bring in as nian\- forms as possible. Do not try to teach \\-hi(h mushrooms are jioisonous. Lessons with Plants, ]i. 347 ; ?\Lishrooms, by .\tkinson. ]]'iiiti)- n^ork. — ]i\-ergreen trees. Cornell Teachers' Leallet, No. I,:; (No. XXXIIL this volume). Sprint; -a't>rk. — The spring work may well be the making of a calendar for trees and jilants. Keej) a record each da)- of the leafage of ])lants, the appeararrce of weeds, and the appearance of blossoms (jf fruit trees and all common flowers. Record which aijpear first, leaves or blossoms. This work ^yill be good iirejiaration for the study of the " struggle for existence," which comes in the next grade. Suggestions for Nati-rk-Stuuy Work. 75 SeVEXI H CrKAUE. The work for this yenr, botli fall and spring, may be the study of the cross fertilization of flowers. Choose a few of the common flowers, and let the pupils study the means by which pollen is carried from flower to flower. In studying any flower fertilized by insects always ask : \Vhere is the nectary? Where in relation to the nectary are the stigma and the anthers ? What path must the insect follow in order to get the nectar ? Do the flowers attract insects by color ? By fragrance ? "What insects do )'ou find visiting the flowers studied ? Lessons with Plants, pp. 224-245 ; Plants, Coulter, pp. 109-137 ; Elements of Botanv, pp. 1S2-196; Readers in Botany, Xewell, Part II, p. 86 ; Plant ^Vorld, Bergen, pp. 57-127 ; 'Pen New England Blossoms, ^Veed. The cross fertilization of flowers is onh' one adaptation for succeeding in the struggle for e.xistence. Study as man^' other ways of insuring the continuance of a plant as is j^ossible. Botany, Bailey, pp. 197-217 ; Lessons with Plants, pp. 15-20 ; Elements of Botany, pp. 199-212. Study plant communities. Botany, Baile)-, ]jp. 219-227 ; Plant Relations, pp. 146, 162, 168 ; Plant Structures, p. 313 ; Cornell Teachers' Leaflet, Xo. 19 (Xo. XXXV, this ^'olume). Eu;hih Ck-iDE. It seems to be the e.xperience of most teachers that pupils of the seventh and eighth grades are with difficidty kept interested in nature-studv. This is probably due to the fact that the methods suited to earlier grades are not suited to these. Pupils of this age, now feeling " grown up," are attracted only by more mature work. They may be interested in some of the following subjects ; Horticulture and Gardeuin:^. — Cornell 'I'eachers' Leaflets. Car- den-Making ; The Pruning-Book ; The Principles of Fruit-Cirow- ing ; The Principles of Vegetable-Gardening, all by Bailey. Plant Culture, by Goff. Forestry. — Relations of forests to preservation of rain-fall and streams. Preservation of Forests. Use of Forests. Reforesting waste lands, etc. A Primer of Forestry by Pinchot, United States Department Agriculture. A First Book of Forestry, Roth. 76 Leaflet V. Ferns. — Study and make collections of all the ferns of the locality. Make drawings of each fern and its fruiting organs, and press and mount the specimens with full accounts of habits and locality of the plant. How to Know the Ferns, Mrs. Par- sons ; Gray's Botany ; Our Ferns, Clute. BIBLIOGRAPHY. * Insects. Every Day Butterflies. S. H. Scudder. Houghton, Mifflin & Co. $:!.oo. Insect Life. J. H. Comstock. I). Appleton & Co. $1.25. Lessons in Nature-Study. Jenkins & Kellogg. ^\^ B. Harri- son. $1.00. Manual for Study of Insects, j. H. Comstock. Comstock Pub. Co. $3.75. ]Moths and Butterflies, {a) Julia V. Ballard. Putnam's Sons. Moths and Butterflies. (/>) Mar)- C. Dickerson. (rinn & Co. $2.50. ^ Stories of Insect Life. ^\'eed & Murtfeldt. (jinn & Co. 3^ cents. Outdoor Studies. James 1!. Xeedham. American Book Co. 40 cents. Bee People. Margaret \V. Morley. A. C. McClurg. $1.25. The Butterfly liook. AV. J. Holland. Doubleday, Page & Co, Caterpillars and 'Plieir ?\Ioths, Elicjt and Soule. The Centur)' Co. $2.00. A\'asps and Their W'avs. Margaret A\". jNIorlev. Lodd, Mead & Co. $1.50. The A\'ays of the Si.\-Footed. .Vnna Botsford Comstock, (linn cV' Co, 40 cents. How to Ivnow tlie Butterflies. J. H. and Anna Botsford Comstock. 1). Apifleton & Co. $2.25. Ax).\[.4i.s OtHER Th.\x Ixsixts. Animal Life. Jordan & Kellogg. D. Appleton t\: Co. $i.2v *This list comprises some of tlie Iiooks th;it have been helpful to me. It is not intended to be comjilete. Clood nc^^' Iiooks are constantly appear- ing. The teaclier should endeavor to kee[> up with the new Ijooks. Suggestions rok Naturr-Study Work. 77 Familiar Fish. Eugene AlcCarthy. ] ). Appleton & Co. I1.50. Story of the Fishes. James N. Baskett. I). Appleton & Co, 65 cents. Familiar Life of the Roadside. Schuyler Mathews. I). Apple- ton & Co. $1.75. Squirrels and Other Fur Bearers. John Burroughs. Hough- ton, Mifflin & Co. $1.00. Wild Life in Orchard and Field. Harper & Bros. Wild Neighbors. The iNLicmillan Co. Ernest Ligersoll. $1.50 each. Kindred of the Wild. Roberts. L. C. Page. $2.00. Wild Life Near Home. Dallas Lore Sharp. The Century Co. $2.00. Four Footed Americans. Wright. Tlie Macmillan Co. $1.50. American Animals. Stone & Cram. Doubledav, Page & Co. $4.00. Food and Game Fishes. Jordan &: Everniann. Doubleday, Page & Co. $4.00. Various books that deal with animals from the story or narrati\'e point of view -will l.)e found to be interesting and helpful. They are often useful in arousing an interest in the subject. There are many good animal books not mentioned in the above list. Birds. Bird Homes. A. R. Dugmore. Doubleday, Page &r Co. $2.00. Bird Life (with colored plates). Frank M. Chapman. D. Apple- ton ^; Co. §5.00. Bird Neighbors. Neltje Blanchan. Doubleday, Page & Co. S2.00. Birds of Village and Field. Florence Merriam. Houghton, Mifflin ct Co. $2.00. First Book of Birds. 01i\-e Thorne Miller. Houghton, jNLfflin & Co. $1.00. Second Book of Birds. ( )live 'Phorne ]\Lllcr. Houghton, Mif- flin & Co. §1.00. Our Native Birds. D. Lange. I'he Macmillan Co. $1.00. Story of the Birds. James N. Baskett. D. Appleton & Co. 65 cents. How to Attract the Birds. Neltje Blanchan. Doubleda^', Page & Co. $1.35. The Bird Book. Eckstorm. I). C. Heath iV Co. .So cents. The Relations of Birds to ALan. A\'eed & Dearborn. Lijjiiin- cott. $2.50. 78 Leaflet Y The Woodpeckers, !•'. H. Kckstoriii. Houghton, Mifflin & ("o. $i.oo. Ijird Lore. A magazine. The Macmillans. Houghton, Mif- tlin & Co. $i.oo. Plant Life. Botany ; an Elementary- Text for Schools. T^. H. Bailey. The Macmillan Co. $i.oo. Corn Plants. V. L. Sargent. Houghton, Mifflin & Co. 60 cents. Elements of Botany. J. Y. Bergen. Cinn & Co. $1.10. Familiar Flowers of Field and Garden. S. Mathews. ]). Apjile- ton & Co. $1.75. First Studies in Plant Life. George F. .\tkinson. frinn & Co. 70 cents. Flowers and Their P'riends. Margaret W. Morley. Ginn & Co. 60 cents. Flowers of Field, Hill and Swamji. C. Creevey. Harper & Bros. $2.:50. (llimpjses at the Plant \^'orld. Fanny I). ISergen. Ginn & Co. 35 cents. A Guide to the '\\'ild Flowers. Alice ]jOunsl)err\-. Frederick A. Stokes Co. §-.SO- How Plants Grow. i\sa Gray. American Jiook Co. 80 cents. Ho«' to Kno«' the h'erns. Mrs. Frances 'Pheodore Parsons. Chas. Scriliner's Sons. $[.50. ( )ur l>'erns in 'J'heir Haunts. Clute. Stokes Co. $2.00. How to Know the Wild Flowers. Mrs. \Vm. Starr P)ana. Chas. Scribner's Sons. $2.00. Lessons With Plants. L. H. Bailey. 'Phe iMacmillan Co. $1.10. Little Wanderers. Margaret ^\'. Morley. Ginn iV' Co. 35 cents. Mushrooms. George F. Atkinson, .\ndnis l\: Church, Ithaca, X. Y. .'i^s.oo. Plants ; a text-book of botany. |. M. (.'oulter. 1 ). Appleton & Co. ,'f;2.oo. Plants and Their ('hildren. ^Irs. ^^"^L Starr Dana. American liook ('o. 6z cents. vols. Ginn &: Co. 70 Reader in Botany. ]. H. Newell, cents. Seed I3ispersal. ^^'. J. Beak Ginn & Co. 40 cents. Ten New P^ngland lilossoms. Clarence M. Weed. Houghton, Mifflin iV- Co. $1 .25. Suggestions roR Nature-Study Work. 79 With the Wild Flowers, ,fr.oo; Field, Forest and Wayside Flowers, $1.50. Maud Going, liaker, Taylor & Co. 1 Flowers and Their Insect A'isitors. Gibson. Newson & Co. ^$1.00. Trees. A Guide to the Trees. Alice l,ounsberry. Frederick A. Stokes Co. $2.50. Familiar Trees and Their Leaves. S. Matliews, I). yVppleton & Co. $r.75. Our Native Trees. Our Native Shrubs. Harriet Keeler. Chas. Scribner's Sons. $2.00 each. A Primer of Forestry. Pinchot. U. S. Dept. Agri. Getting Acquainted with the Trees, J. H. McFarland. Out- look Co. $1.75. The First Book of Forestry. Roth. Cdnn & Co. $1.00. Among Green Trees. Julia E. Rogers. Mumford. fe.oo. Trees, Shrubs and Vines. Parkhurst. Chas. Scribner's Sons. Practical Forestry. John Clifford. I), -\ppleton &: Co. $1.20. The Nature-Study Idea. L. H. Bailey. Doubleday, Page & Co. $1.00. Science Sketidies. David Starr Jordan. McClurg &: Co. $1.50. Poetry of the Seasons. .Mary I. Lo\ej()y. Silver, Burdette & Co. 60 cenrs. Nature in Verse. Mary I. Lovejoy. Silver, Burdette & Co. 60 cents. Nature Pictures bv American Poets. The Macmillan Co. $1.25. Arbor Day Manual. Charles Skinner. Bardeen &: C'o. $2.50, Songs of Nature. John Burroughs. McClure, Phillips & Co. $1.50. Among I'dowers and Trees. Wait & Leonard. Lee & Shep- herd. $2.00. LEAFLET VL A SUMMER SHOWER.* llv R. S. TARR altliOLiLrh p- RAINSTORAI comes, tlie walks are wet, the roads are muddv. Then the sun breaks tlirougli the clouds and soon the walks are no longer damp and the mud of the road is dried. W'liere did the water come from and where has it gone? Let us answer these questions. A kettle on the sto\-e is forgotten and soon a cracking is heard ; the housewife jumiis to her teet for the kettle is drw The kettle M'as filled ^^■uh water, but it has all boiled awa\- ; and where has it gone? Surely into the air of the room, for it lan be seen issuing as " steam " and then disappearing from view, as if by magic. The heat of the hre has changed the liquid water to a gas as in\-isible as the air itself. This gas is 7i'(?Av 7-apoi-. Do vou wish to [irove tliat the water xajior is tiiere, unseen ? Then, if tlie day is cool, watcji the v,-in- dow and notice the drops of >\'atev collect iqion it. ("Jr, if tile dai- is warm, bring an ice-cold glass or pitcher into the room and see the drops col- lect upon it (Fig. <)). People s(jmetimes say, when drops of water collect on a glass of cold water, that the glass is " s^'eating ; " but see wdiether the same thing will not haiqien with a cold glass that does nrjt contain water. These two simple ol)ser\-ations teach us tux \-er\- important facts: (i) That heat ^^■ill (.'hange liquid water to an in\-isible vapor, or gas, which ■will float ab(nit in the air of a room ; and (2) that cold will cause some of the "\-apor to idiange back to liquid water. Let us observe a little further. The clothes upon the line on Fi' -. 9. -■?,?- 'ass of v/,/ CilU J- oil whu J, vaf '>>' Jias - 11 I ■ 11 S ■d in In.p *Teacliers' Leaflet, Nu. 14; Cornell Nature-Stiuly liullctin, June, iSgg. 6 81 82 Leaflei' VI. wash day are hung out wet and brought in dry. If tlie sun is shining they ])robably dry ([uickly ; but will they not dry even if the sun is not shining ? They will, indeed ; so here is another fact to add to our other two, nanieh' (3) that the production of wapor from water will proceed even when the water is not heated. This change of water to vapor is called C'vapofation. The water evaporates from the clothes ; it also e\'aporates from the walks after a rain, from the mud of the road, from the brooks, creeks and rivers, and from ponds, lakes, and the great ocean itself. Indeed, \\'hei-e\'er water is e.xposed to the air some evaporation is taking place. Yet heat aids evaporation, as you can prove by taking three dishes of the same kind and pouring the same amount of water into each, then placing one on the sto\'e, a second in the sun, and a third in a cool, shady place, as a cellar, and watching to see which is the last to become dry. .Vliout three-fourths of the earth's surface is co\"ered liy water, so that the air is receiving vapor all the time. In fact, e\'ery minute thousands of barrels of water-vapor are rising into the atmosphere from the surface of the ocean. The air is constantly moving about, forming winds, and this load r>f \'apor is, therefore, drifted about b\' the winds, so that the air )-ou are breathing may ha\"e in it vapor that came from the ocean hundreds or even thousands of miles away. You do not see the vapor, )-ou are per- haps not e\'en aware that it is there ; "\'et in a room 10 feet high and 20 feet square there is often enough \-apor, if it could all be changed back to water to fill a two-ijuart measure. There is a difference in the amount of vapor from time to time. Some davs the air is cjuite free from it, and then clothes will dr)' rapidlv. On other davs the air is damp and humid ; then people sa\- it is "muggv," or that the "humidity is high." On these muggy da)"s in summer the air is oppressive because there is so much "s-apor in it. Xear the sea, where there is so much \vater to evaporate, the air is commonly more humid or moist than in the interior, away from the sea, where there is less water to evaporate. ^\'e have seen that there is some vapor in all air, and that there is more at some times than at others. We have also seen how it has come into the air, and that cold will cause it to condense to liquid water on cold window jjanes and on water glasses. There are other wa^•s in which the \'apor may be changed to liquid. After a summer da\', even when tliere has been no rain, soon A SiiiMMRR Shower. 83 after the sun sinks Lehind the western horizon the grass becomes so damp that one's feet are wet in walking through it. Tlie dew is "falling." During the daytime the grass is warmed by the sun ; but when the sun is gone it grows cooler, much as a stove becomes cool when the fire is out. This cool grass chills the air near it and changes some of tlie \apor to liquid, which collects in drops on the grass, as the A'ajxir condenses on the outside of a glass of ice water. In the opposite season of the year, on a cold winter's day, when you step out of a warm house into the chilly air, a thin cloud, or fog, forms as you expel the air from }-our lungs, and you say that you can ''see y(jur breath." "\Miat you really see are the little drops of water formed as the vapor-laden breath is chilled on passing from the warnt body to the cold air. The vapor is con- densed to form a tiny mist. Fii;. 10, A 7i'reath of fo^ settled in a valley with the hilltops risim; alw-v it. I)uul)tless \()u hare seen a wreath of fog settling in a \-alley at night ; or in the morning )'ou may haxe looked out upon a log that has gathered there during the night (Fig. 10). If }our home happens to be ujKjn a hillside, jierhajis you ha\'e been able to look down uijon the fog nestled there like a cloud on the land, which it really is. Such a fog is caused in ^-ery nearl_\" the same way as the tiny fog made b)' breathing. The damp air in the valley has been chilled until the vapor has c(jndensed to form tin)- mist or fog particles. Without doubt you can tell why tliis fog disappears when the sun rises and the warm rays fall upon it. On the ocean there are great fogs, co\'ering the sea for hundreds of miles ; they make sailing dangerous, because the sailors cannot see through the mist, so that two vessels may run together, or a ship may be dri\'en upon the coast before the captain knows it. 84 Lf.aflkt VI, Oncf more, this is iiierch' condensed vapor caused ]>y chilling air tliat lias become laden «itli ^■a]Jor. This chilling is often caused when «-arm, damj) \\-inds blow o\'er the cold parts of the ocean. This leads the way to an understanding of a rain storm ; but first "\\'e must learn something about the temperature of the air. The air near the ground where we li\'e is commonly warmer than that above the ground where the clouds are. Peojde who have gone up in balloons tell us so ; and now scientific men who are stud)'ing this question are in the habit of sending uj) great kites, carr)'ing thermometers and other instruments, in order to find out about the air far above the ground. Tvji,''. //. /u>^' clouJs aiih^ii^' the valleys in ilw uioni/huiis, only tJw mountain pt'aks /Ti'/yytur^' a/'iiz'y llwiu. It is not necessar\", h(.)we\er, In semi \\y a kite or a balloon to ]iro\'e this. If vour home is among mountains, or e\'eii among high hills, \<>\\ can pro\-c it for \ourself ; for often, in (he late autumn, when it rains on the lower gr(.)und, it snows upon the mountain toiis, so tliat when tlie < loads ha\"e ( leared a\\"a"\' the surface of the u]ilands is robed in \\-hite (Fig. 12). In the spring- time, or ill the «intcr during a thaw, peojile li\'ing among these highlands often start out in sleighs on a journey to a town, whicli is in the -i-alley, and before the}" reach the \'alley their horses are obliged to drag the sleigh o\-er bare ground. It is so much warmer on the lower ground that the snow melts awav much more quickly than it does among the hills. The difference in temperature is, on the a\-erage, about one degree for e\-ery three hundred feet, so that a hill top rising A SCMMKK SlIllWER. ^5 twelve hundred feet alxjve a valley would have an average tem- perature about four degrees lower than the valley. Now some mountains, even in New York, rise thousands of feet above the surrounding country. They rise high into the regions of cold air, L 'Vi'. /i". .-I iiuntiilai}! 7i'liil,in\l liy siio-w on l/ir top, while there is no snow at the base. so that they are often (;o\-ered \\'ith snow long before any snow has fallen on the lowlands ; and the snow remains upon them long after it has disapi)eared from the lower country (Fig. 12). Some mountains are so loft}' that it never rains upon them, but snows instead ; and the)' are never free from snow, e\'cn in mid-summer. If one (dimbs to the top of such peaks he finds it always ^"ery cold there, ^^'hile he is shivering from the cold he can look down upon the green fields where the birds are singing, the flowers blossoming and the men, work- ing in the fields, are complain- ing of the heat. (Jne ^^ho -watches such a mountain as tliis, or in I act an\' mountain peak, \\\\\ notii'e tliat it is frecpientl)' wrapped in clouds (l'"ig. 13). Damp ''and covered OH tlie very eresi hy „ ehud. »'inds blowing against the Cold 86 l.l'.AFLl-:'!' \'I. mountains are chilled and the \apur is (-(nidensed. If one climbs through such a cloud, as thousands of people have done when climbing mountains, he often seems to pass through nothing but a fog, for really many clouds are only fogs high in the air. (Fig. 14). But very often rain falls from these clouds that cling to the mountain sides. The reason for this is eas\- to understand. As the air comes against the cold mountains so much vajjor is con- densed that some of the tin)' fog i)articles grow larger and larger until thev become mist partii les, which are too hea^■y to float in the air. They then begin to settle ; and as one particle strikes against another, the two unite, and this continues until perhaps a dozen have joined together so as to form a good-sized droji, which is so heavv that it is obliged to fall to the ground as rain. 7^/;''. i^. Clouds cUiv^iiv^ to tlio nwuiitaiu sides. If olio 7ooro olimbhi:^ thoso vioiin- ta'ms ho would find hi Hisol t\ i n possi n^^ tJtrou:^li iho oiouds^ oiliior in a /"(';^ or out in the air are innumerable bits of "dust" which you can see dancing about in the sunlight when a sunbeam enters a dark room. Some of these " dust " particles are actual dust from the road, Init much of it is something else, as the pollen of plants, microbes, and the solid bits produced by the burning of wood or coal. Each bit serves as a tiny nucleus on which the vapor condenses ; and so the very "dust " in the air aids in the formation of rain by giving something solid around which the liquid can gather. The great amount of dust in the air near the great city of London is believed to be one of the causes for the frequent fogs of that city. That there is dust in the air, and that the rain removes it, is often proved when a dull hazy air is changed to a clear, bright air by a summer shower. AVatch to find instances of this. Indeed, after such a hazy day, when the rain drops first begin to fall, if you will let a few drops fall upon a sheet of clean white paper, and then dry it, )'ou will find the paper discolored by the dust 90 I.EAFLlil' \'I. Fig. 77. A sky flecked until clouds /li'^h ill tilt air. that the ram brouglit with it. So tlic rain jnirifies the air by removing- from it the solids tliat are floating in it. These are only a few of the things of interest that you can see for yourself by studying the air. Watch the sky ; it is full of interest. See what you can observe for yourself, ^\'atch espe- cially the clouds, for the\' are not only interesting but beautiful (Fig. 17). Their forms are often graceful, and they change with such rapidity that you can notice it as you watch them. E\'en in the daytime the colors and shadows are beautiful ; but at sunrise and at sunset the clouds are often changed to gorgeous banks of color. "Watch the clouds and )'ou will be repaid ; look especially for the great piles of clouds in the east during the summer when the sun is setting (Fig. 18). Those lofty banks, tinged with sih'er and gold, and rising like mountains thousands of feet int(.) the air, are reallv made of bits of fog and mist. Among them ^■a[lor is still changing to water and rain drojjs are forming, while ^•iolent cur- rents are whirling the drops about, and perhaps lifting them to such a height that they are being frozen into hailstones. Far off to the east, beneath that cloud, rain is falling in torrents, light- ning is flashing and thunder crashing, though vou cannot hear it because it is so lar aiva\'. Vou see the storm merely as a brightl)- lighted and beautifully colored cloud mass in the sk"\- ; but the people over whom it is hanging find it a threatening black cloud, the source of a furious wind, a heavv rain, and the awe-inspiring lightning. To them it may not be beautiful, though grand in the extreme ; and so, too, when the summer thunder shower ^'isits you in the early e\-ening, )'ou ma\' know that people to the west of you are ])robabl\' looking at its side and top and admiring its beauty of form and color. Fig. jS. The cloud Ihiiiks cf a tliinidei stoyni oil the horizon. A SuMMF.R Shower. 91 The storm j)asses on, still to the eastward, and llnally the cdoud mass entirely disappears l)eneatli the eastern horizon ; Init if you watch, you will see signs that it is still there, though out of sight ; for in the darkness of the night you can see the eastern horizon lighted by little flashes, the source of which cannot be seen. Vou call it '' heat lightning," but it is reall)- the last signal that we can see of the vanishing thunder storm, so far away that the sound of the crashing thunder cannot Ije heard. You watch the mysterious flashes ; they grow dimmer and dim- mer and finally you see them no more. Uur summer shower is gone. It has done what thousands of others have done before, and what thi.jusands of others will do in the future. It has started, moved off, and Unallv disappeared from sight ; and as it has gone it has told us a storv. Vini can read a part of this storv if you will ; and in reading it will find much that interests. LEAFLET VII. A SNOW STORM.- By anna BOTSFORD COMSTOCK. 'I'lie snow had begun in the gloaming", And busily all the night Had been heaping field and high«ay "W'ith a silence dee].! and white. Every pine and fir and hemlock Wore ermine too dear for an earl, And the poorest twig on the elm-tree ^\'as ridged inch deep with pearl. From sheds new-roofed with Carrara Came Chanticleer's muffled crow The stiff rails were sottened to swan's-down And still fluttered down the sno«'. — Lowell. ' ■ ' HE storm ^^•hich Lowell describes so delightfully is the first soft, gentle snow fall that comes in Xo\"ember or earl\- l)ecenil)er. "Tlie silence deep and white " settles like a l)ene- diction o\'er the bro^ii, uneven land- scape, and makes of it a scene of enchantment. \'ery different from this is the storm that comes when the t' -.:■ --- - - " ...-- -iN-inter cold is most se\'ere and «-iuter winds most terrific. 'I'hen the skies are as wjiite as the fields, \\\\\\ ne\'er a sign of blue ; if the sun apjiears at all, it shines cold instead of warm, and seems but a vague white spot behind the \eil of upward, do«'nward whirling snowflakes ; the wild wind takes the " snow dust " in eddies across the fields and piles it at tlie fences in great drift billoM's with over- hanging crests. ( )n such a da}- the snow is so cold and dr\', the clouds so low and o|)pressi\"e, the bare trees so brown and bleak. ■'■■Jlome N.atnre-SLudy (Juursc, 1 Jeccnilier, HJ03. 94 ],i-:afli:t Vll. that \vc slmtri" f\"eii tliougli \\"c gaze un the dreary scene fnim tlie window f)f a warm and i-onifdrtahle room. ]jut another change is sure to come. Some Februar)- daj" the wind will veer suddenh' to the south and hreathe warnt thawing lireaths over the white frozen ^\'orld. Then will the lorest.s appear in robes of \-i\id lihie-]nirp]e against the sliining hills ; and in the /■/-. /i;. .s'//<'7,' sl.i/s mornings the soft blue nf the horizon will shade iijiward into rose-color and still uiiwarcl into vellow and bervl green ; these hues are ne\'cr seen on the forest or in the skv exce}it when the snow C(.)\"ers the earth to the horizon line. The e"\'e that lo\"cs color could ill afford to lose from the world the purples and blues which bring (ontrast into the winter landscape. The sno«- storm to our limited understanding, begins with a miracle — the miracle of crystallization. "Wdty should water freez- ing freeh- in the air be a part of geometry, the si.x rays of the snow A Snuw Storm. 95 crystal growing at an angle one to another, of sixty degrees? Or as if to prove geometry divine Ijeyond cavil, sometimes the rays include angles of twice sixty degrees. Then why should the decorations of the rays assume thousands of intricate, beautiful forms, each ray of a flake ornamented exactly like its five sisters ? And why should the snowflake formed in the higher clouds of the upper air be tabular in shape but still, in cross section, show that it is built on the jjlan of six radii ? Look at it as we will, the formation of a cr}'stal is a lieautiful myster)- and is as unfathom- able as is the mvstery of life, I am indebted to the courtes\' of A! r, R, ( ;. Allen, Section 1 )irector 'for New York of the U, S, "Weather JSureau, (ni suggestions in mak- ing out the following questions. The beautiful pictures of snow crystals illustrating this lesson were made from photograjjhs taken by Mr. AV, A, Bentley of Jericho, A't, It is our desire to interest all 96 Leafi.i: r \'II. tcaclicrs in tlic natural liistory "f a snow storm, to the end that "the)' ma)- h)\-c the country better and be content to li\'e therein." A tliermometer hung in a sheltered, open place away from the ^^■armth of the house is a necessar\- preliminar\' to the proper obser\-atinn of tlie phenomena of a snow storm. ])ark woolen cloth is the best medium on "which to catch and observe snow cr\-stals. Imffvil/ /•■/;'. J"/. " 11'//// ,1 .w/,'ll,;- ,/,;■/■ ,!//,/ T.'/li/,." OuESTIllXS OX A SXOW S'l'DR.M. What causes snow ? \t -what temperature do snow crystals form ? How do the ( louds ap])ear before a snow storm ? \Miat is the temperature of the air before the storm ? AMiat is the direction of the « ind before the storm ? Does the storm come from the same direction as the wind? A Snow Siorm. - 97 7. What are the conditions of the wind and temperature when the snow cr)'stals are most perfect in form ? S. What are these conditions when the snow crystals are matted together in great flakes ? 9. \\'hat are these conditions when the snow crystals appear sharp and needle-like ? 10. Are the snow crystals of the same storm similar in structure and decoration ? 11. \\'hat is the difference in structure between a snowflake and a hail stone ? I J. M'hat is sleet ? 13. What is the difference between hoar frost and snow ? 14. Does the temperature rise or fall during a snow storm ? iv Is it colder or warmer after a snow storm has passed than it was before it began ? 16. What are the conditions of weather which cause a blizzard ? 17. Why does a co\ering of snow prevent the ground from freezing so severely as it would if bare ? 18. Why if snow a bad conductor of heat ? 19. Pack snow in a quart cup until it is full and let it melt ; then tell how full the cup is of water. What do you infer from this ? 20. Have you ever obser\'ed the grass to Ije green beneath snow drifts ? Tell win-. 21. Does snow evaporate as well as melt ? 22. How does snow benefit the farmer and the fruit grower? 23. Do the snow storms in vour locality come from one general direction all winter? 7 LEAFLET VIII. A HANDFUL OF SOIL: WHAT IT IS.* Bv K. S. TARR, IND drifts a seed from the parent plant until '.i^i. it settles to the ground, perhaps in a field or by the roadside, or even in the schoolyard. There it remains through the long winter ; but with the return of spring, encouraged l)y the warm sunlight, the seed awakens from its dormant condition, breaks open the s.'ed-cover and sends leaves into the air and roots into the ground. Xo one planted the seed ; yet the plant has made its way in the world and it thrives until it has given to other seeds the same opportunity to start in life. Had the seed fallen upon a board or a stone it might have sent out lea\x's and roots ; but it could never have developed into a plant, for something necessary would lia\-e been lacking. What is there in the soil that is so necessary to the success of plant life ? How has it come to be there? What is this soil that the plants need so much ? These are scjme of the questions whicli we will try to answer. One readily sees that the soil furnishes a place in which the plants may fix themselves, — an anchorage, as it were. It is also easy to see that from the soil the jjlants obtain a supply of water ; and, moreo\'er, tliat this \\'ater is very necessary, for tlie vegetation in a moist country suffers greatl)' in time of drought, and few plants are able to grow in a desert region because there is so little water. You can make a desert in the schoolroom and contrast it with moist soil by planting seeds in two dishes of soil, watering one, but furnishing no water to the other. That water is necessary to plants is also jiroved by the plant itself. The sap and the moisture which may be pressed out of a grass stem or an apple are principally water taken from the soil by the roots. But there is more than water, for the juice of an apple is sweet or sour, while the sap and juice of other plants may be sweet or bitter. There are substances dissolved in the \\'ater. *Nature-Study Quarterly, Xo. 2: Leaflet 15. 99 TOO 1,F,AFT,F,T \Ill.. It is these dissolved substances that the phuits need for their growth, and they find them ready for use in the soil. There is a plant-food which the roots seek and find, so that every plant which sends roots into the soil takes something from it to Iniild up the plant tissue. The sharp edges of some sedges, which will cut the liand like a dull knife, and the wood ashes left when a wood fire is Inirned, represent in part this plant-food obtained from the soil. Tet us take a handful of soil from the field, the schoolyard, or tlie street and examine it. We find it to be dirt that "soils" the hands ; and when we try to brush off the dirt, we notice a gritty "1 u J^ . ^^^ jtf^ ' j/flegSl BW^^B^ifct^lM^S^MRi^^iiri BHHfl^ Mf^ ■^T" """"^'^^i'^BB^^K/m mHSBSSS^tcS^tT^r&T^S^KM g^^p^ ~'\ " ^^^StSS^u HHk^^-^'' " JB^lH 1 ^ ^^,^^^HHH^^^H y-^'. -'^- -I l'oul,U-r-slrci.'ll s,'/,.; ,■//, , / /^c ,',/,,,■■ ,1 ralus on llio rii^Jil similar to thoso wJiioh Ciir/y atlraolod olloiltioii to t/io drift. Soc pa^e loj. feeling that is (]uite disagreeable. This is due to the bits of mineral in tlie soil ; and that tliese are hard, often harder than a pin, nuiv often l>e prox'cd b_\' rubbing soil against a piece of glass, which the hard bits will often scratch, whde a pin will not. Stud)- tliis sod with the e)'e and you ina\- not sec the tiny bits, though in sandy soils one may easily notice that tlierc arc bits of mineral. ]'',\"en fine loamy and clav soils, when examined with a pocket lens or a microscope, will be found to be composed of tiny fragments of mineral. It is evident that in some ^^■ay mineral has l)een powdered u]i to form the soil ; and since tlie minerals come from rocks, it is tlie rocks that lia\e been ground up. That pow- dered rock will make just sucli a substance as soil may be proved A Handftit, of Son, : What it is, loi hy pounding a pebble to bits, or by collecting sonic (jf the rock dust that is made when a hole is drilled in a rock. Much the same substance is ground from a grindstone when a knife is sharpened on it, making the water muddy like that in a mud hole. It will be an interesting exi)eriment to reduce a pebble to jjow- der and plant seeds in it to see whether they will grow as well as in soil ; but in preparing it try to avoid using a sandstone pebble, because sandy soils are never yevy fertile. Not only is soil made u|i of bits of powdered rock, but it e^'ervwhere rests upon rock (Fig. 25). Some consider soil to be /■'4^. ^2. A i^Iacial soil, iOiitaiiiiir^- miDurous tran^porleil /oit,l,;i in Iho rook jlonr. sea or lakeshore mucli the same thing maybe seen ; and here also the constant grinding of the rocks wears off the edges until the pebbles become smooth and round. Supplied with bits of ro< k from the soil, or from the grinding up of pebbles and rocks along its course, the stream carries its load onward, pierhaps to a lake, which it commences to fill, form- \w< a broad delta of level and fertile land, near where the stream enters the lake. Or, ])ossibly, the stream enters the sea and builds a delta there, as tlie Mississipi)i river has done. I04 I.EAFI.KT A'lII. liut much of the mud does not reach the sea. 'J'he greatest sup])ly comes when the streams are so flooded by heavy rains or melting snows that the river channel is no longer able to hold the water, which then rises al)o\'e the banks, over- flowing the svirrounding country. Then, since its current is checked where it is so sliallow, the water drops some of its load of ro<:k bits on th.e flood-plain, much as tlie nuukh' water in a gutter drops sand or mud on the sidewalk when, in time o' hea\-\- rains, it n\-errtows the «-alk. -\Ian\- of tlie most fertile /■/i,'. -=:■,-. ./ sn-,ii,:lh-J limcsioin- pM>l,- t,it,-ii hinds of tile world are flood- /roiii „ ^'/,n-i„/ soi/. |)lains of this kind, where sediment, gathered h\ the streams farther up tlieir courses, is dropped upon the flood-plains, enriching them bv ne\\- layers of fertile soil. One does not need to go to the Nile, the A'ellow, or the -Mississippi for illustrations of this ; they abound on every hand, and many thousands of illustra- tiims, great and small, may be found in the State of Xcw ^'ork. Doubt- less )-ou can find one. There are other «'ays in which soils ma\- be lormed ; but onI\- one more \\ ill be considered, and that is the «a\- in which most of the soils of New York have been made. To study this let us go to a cut in the earth, such as a well or a stream bank (Figs. 22 and 24). Scattered through the soil numerous pebbles and boulders will doubtless be found ; and if these are compared with the bed rock of the countrv, which underlies the soil rii ,, 111, ' -■ciiiciil of I hi- it,- shc-t '/ I I () t/it •r it. A Handfi'i, or Son,: ^\'hat ir is. 105 (Fig. 22), some of them will be found to be (juite different from it. For instance, where the bed rock is shale or limestone, some of the pebbles will no doubt l)e granite, sandstone, etc. If you could explore far enough, vou would find just such rocks to the north of you, perhaps one or two hundred miles away in Canada ; or, if your home is south of the Adirondacks, you might trace the pebbles to those mountains. On some of these pebbles, esi^ecially the softer ones, such as limestone, vou will find scratches, as if they had been ground forcibly together (Fig. 25). Looking now at the bed rock in some place from which the soil has been recent)}' removed, you will find it also scratched and grooved (Fig. 26) ; and if you take the direc- tion of these scratches with the compass, you will find that they extend in a general north and south direction, pointing, in fact, in the same direction from which the pebbles ha\'e come. All o\-er northeastern North America and northwestern Europe the soil IS of the same nature as that just descril)ed. In our own country this kind of soil reache;; down as far as the edge of the shaded area in the map (Fig. 27), and it will be noticed that all of New York is w ithin that area excepting the extreme southwestern part near the southern end of Chautauqua lake. Not onlv is the soil peculiar within this district, but there are many small hills of clav or sand, or sometimes (if both together (Figs. T,^ and 34). They rise in luimmock)' form and often ha\-e deep pits or kettle-shapeil liasins l)etween, sometimes, when the soil is clayev enough to hold water, containing tiny pools. These hills extend in somewhat irregular ranges stretching across the country from the east toward the west. The position of some of these ranges is indicated on the map (Fig. 27). For a long time people wondered how this soil with its foreign pebbles and boulders, altogether called " drift," came to be placed where it is ; they were especially puzzled to tell how the large boulders, called erratics (Fig. 21), should have been carried from one place to another. It was suggested that they came from the bursting of planets, from comets, from the explosion of moun- tains, from floods, and in other ways equally unlikely ; but Louis Agassiz, studying the glaciers of the Alps and the country round about, was impressed by the resemblance between the " drift " and the materials carried by li\-ing glaciers. Agassiz, therefore, proposed the hypothesis that glaciers had carried the drift and left it wliere we now find it ; but for many io6 Leaflet VIII. 1 ^fnr .^-. >. ■s. A Handful of Soil : What it is. 107 years his glacial hypothesis met with a great deal of opposition because it seemed impossible that the climate could have changed so greath' as to cover what is now a temperate land with a great sheet of ice. Indeed, e\-en now, although all who have especially studied the subject are convinced, many people have not accepted Agassiz's explanation, just as years ago, long after it was proved that the earth rotated each day, many people still believed that it was the sun, not the earth, that was moving. The glacial explanation is as certain as that the earth rotates. For some reason, ^ which we do not I ' ' k n o w, the cli- mate changed and allowed ice to cover temper- ate lands, as be- fore that time the climate had changed so as to allow plants like those now grow- ing as far south as Virginia to live in Green- land, now ice covered. When the ice of the glacier melted away it left man)- signs of its presence ; and when the temperate latitude plants grew in Greenland they left seeds, leaves and tree trunks which ]ia\'e been imbedded in the rocks as fossils. One may now pick the leaves of temperate climate trees from the rocks Ijeneath a great icecap. To one who studies them, the signs left by the glacier are as clear proof as the leaves and seeds. From these signs we know that the climate has changed slowlv, but we have not yet learned why it changed. There are now two places on the earth where vast glaciers, or ice sheets, cover immense areas of land, one in the Antarctic, a region very little known, the other in Greenland, where there is an ice sheet covering land ha\-ing an area more than ten times that of ?S. A vie:o ovlt the ^^rcat ice plateau of Greeuhijid, ivltti a niountaiii peak projeiting above it. io8 Leaflet VIII. the State of New York. Let us study tliis region to see what is being done there, in order to compare it with wliat has been done in New York. In the interior is a ^■ast plateau of ice, in places o^'er 10,000 teet high, a great ic\' desert (Fig, 28), where absolute- h' no life of anv r^^--*-*^,- kind, either ani- **'*'^^^,^^^ - nial or plant, can " ■--^. exist, and where it never rains, but where the storms liring s n o w e\'en in >;-. -=■.;. The ■■,/-!■ of a pari ,! ttio taiht, ooor lohiott ciro stro70/! main Such must lia\'e been the c e middle of summer. Such must lia\'e been the condition in rtheastcrn America during the glacial period. This \-ast ice sheet is slo«dy moi\-ng outward in all ilirections from the elewited center, much h ;o. .4 soratoliool pobl';^ 7-'. y'/u- h}-ook Diav ht' iiuulc f/u- icntn' of a li t\--llu-i)u\ The Brl 127 which we love to drink on a hot summer's day ; or, again, it is a swampy spot on the hillside where the cat-tails grow. In what- ever form it issues from the ground, a tiny rill carries away its overflow, and this sooner or later joins the brook. The brook, we see, is simply the collected rainfall from the hillsides, flowing away to join the river. It grows larger as other brooks join it, and becomes a creek and finally a river. But where is the dividing line between brook, creek, and river? So gradually does the brook increase in volume that it would be difficult to draw any di\-iding line between it and the larger streams. And so with the rills that formed the brook : each is a part of the ri\-er, and the names rill, brook, creek, and river are merely relati\'e terms. Brooks are but ri\ers on a small scale ; and if \\e study the work that a brook is doing, we shall find it engaged in cutting down or building up, just as the ri\-er does, although, owing to the smaller size of the brook, we can see most of these operations in a short distance. Let us take our way through the wet grass and dripping trees to the brookside and see ^^-hat work it is doing. The countless rain-born rills are jjouring their muddy water into the brook and to-day its \olume is much greater than when it is fed, as it is in fair weather, by the slower-moving underground water of the springs. It roars along with its \\-aters no longer clear but full of clay and sand ("mud " as M-e call it). If we should dip up a glassful of this muddy water, we should find that when it had settled there remained on the liottora of the glass a thin deposit of sediment. The amount of this sediment is small, no doubt, for a single glassful, but when «-e think of the great quantity of water constantly flowing by, we can see that considerable sediment is going along with it. But this sediment in suspension is not all the load that the brook is moving. If you will roll up your sleeve, plunge your hand to the bottom of the brook and hold it there quietly, you will feel the coarser gravel and small stones rolling along the bottom. All this load of sand and gravel comes, as Ave have seen, from the valley sides, the banks of the brook, and from its bed. It is moving downward away from its original resting place ; and what is the result? For thousands upon thousands of years, our brook may have been carrying off its yearly load of sediment ; and though each day's labor is small, yet the added toil of centuries 128 Leaflet X, has been great. The result of this hibor -we can see in the great trough or valley through which the brook flows. Tennj'son speaks of the ceaseless toil of the brook in the following words : " [ chattel-, chatter, as [ How [' u jdiii the hri mining river, For men may ciime and men ma)- go, Hnt I gij o]\ f(:ire\'er." 'W'e have seen how the rills and torrents bring into the brook their loads of sand, clay, and gravel ; now let us walk along the bank ^^:{. 4^. A brook C2itti)!;^ under its bank and causini^ a landslidt' . and see what tlie brook is doing to increase this load. hist liere tliere is a sudden turn in llie channel and so sharji is the curve that tlie rusliii-ig stream is not al:)le to keep in mid-channel, but tlirows itself furiousl\- against the outer bank of the cttrve, eati)ig into the da)- of wliicli it is composed, until the bank is under- mined, allowing a mass cif clay to slide down into the stream bed, where it is eaten u]i and carried away b)- the rushing water (Fig. 43). k'arther on, tlie brook dashes down a steep, rockv incline, and if we listen and wat( h we may hear the thud of boulders hurled along, or cxen see a pebble bound out of the muddx' foaming water. These iuo\-ing pebljles strike against each other The Brook. 129 and grind along the bottom, wearing out themselves as well as the large unmovable boulders of the rocky bed of the brook. Thus the larger stones are ground down, rounded at first but in time reduced to sand, adding in tliis way to the moving burden of the brook. By this slow process of cutting and grinding, the deep rock gorges of New York state, like those at Watkins, Ithaca, Au Sable Chasm, and even the mighty gorge of Niagara, have been made. The Grand Canyon of the Colorado, over a mile in depth, is one of the greatest examples of stream cutting to be found in the world. Now the brook leads us into a dripping woodland, and just ahead we can hear the roar of a little waterfall, for at this point the cutting stream flows upon the bed rock with its alternating bands of hard and soft rock through which the busy brook is cutting a miniature gorge. Here is a hard layer which the stream has under- mined until it stands out as a shelf, over which the water leaps and falls in one mass with a drop of nearly ten feet. Watch how the water below boils and ed- dies ; think with what force it is hammering its stone- cutting tools upon the rocky floor. Surely here is a place where the brook is cutting fast. Notice that swirling eddy where the water is whirling about with the speed of a spinning top ; let us remember this eddy and when the water is lower we will try to see what is happening at its bottom. On the other side of the woods our brook emerges into a broad meadow ; let us follow it and see what becomes of its load, whetlier it is carried onward, or whether tlie tired brook lavs Fig. 44. A pile of brook debris deposited by the eheckuig of I lie current. Leaflki' X. it down uccasionall)' tu rest. ( )ut uf the woods, the brook dashes down a steep incline until the foaming tide comes to rest in a deep ])oo!. What becomes of the large ])el)l)les which have been swept down ? Do thev go on or do they stop ? If you go to the outlet of the pool you will see that the water is coming out «-ith nothing in its grasp but the fine clav and sand, the gra-\-el and pebbles ha\'ing been drop|>cd li\' the less rapid current of the pool. This is one of the most important of the brook's lessons, for an)-thing that tends to check the current makes it drop some of the sediment that it carries (Fig. 44). Yonder is an old tree stump with its crooked roots caught fast on tlie bottom ; the mid- stream current rushes against it onlv to be thrown back in a boiling eddy, and the waters split in twain and flow b)' on either side with their current somewhat checked. In the rear of the stump is a region of quiet water \\'here the brook is building up a pile of gravel. Farther on, tlie banks of the brook are low and liere the waters no longer remain in the chan- nel, but o\'erflow the low land, spreading out on either side in a broad sheet. The increased friction of this larger area reduces the current, and again we see the brook la"\-ing down some of its load. 'Fhe sand and gravel deposited here is spread out in a flat plain called a _//('('( black-flies, related to the terrible black-fl)' ol the north \v(jods. The black-fly lar\'as can live only in the 7.7, 77/r Mav-lly shcls ilt iiyiii/'li skin. I /'i.vV,' natiiru/ si:,-.\ swiftest water, 'i'here the\' pass through their transformations and succeed in emerging into their aerial stage, in spite of the rushing current. All these things and man)' more are seen by those who freipient the ^Yater brooks. Observers cannot tell all they see, for some things are too deep for words. They can and do say to one and all, " Come, let us \'isit the brook together. The I 40 Lkaflkp XI. water and all ihat d\\-ell in it and round about, in\-ite us and make us welcome." LEAFLET XII. LIFE IN AN AQUARIUM.* liv ^[ARV KOCEKS A[ILLP:R. HER]\ is no more fascinating adjunct to nature-study than a well-ke])t aquarium. ]t is a never-ending source of enjoyment, interest and instruction to students of an\' age. Children in tlie kindergarten or at home "\\"dl watch \vitli delight the li\'ely occu- pants, ■which cut all sorts fif queer ca]}ers for their amusement, and older jjeople may read some of nature's choicest secrets througli the glassy sides of the little water world. To many, the word aquarium suggests a vision of an elaborately constructed glass bo.x, ornamented with impossible rock-work and strange water plants, or a globe in which discouraged and sickly-looking gold-fish appear and disappear, and take strange, uncanny shapes as they dart hither and thither. Such forms of aquaria have their place in the world, but they are not suited to the needs of an ordinary school-r(j-)ni. Every school may have some sort of an aquarium if the teacher and ]5Upils are v.dlling to give it some daily thought and care. \\'ith- out such attention a fine a(piariuni mav become an unsightly and disagreeable object, its inhabitants unhealthy and its beauty and usefulness lost. The great fundamental i)rinciple underlying success in making and maintaining an aquarium is this : imitate nature. We all know how much easier it is to formulate a principle, and e\'en to write a book about it, than to put it into practice. Afost of us ha^'e not had the time and ojtpi^rtunit)- for the (lose observation of nature necessary to interpret her methods and to imitate her. Jt is to those teachers who are anxious to learn wliat nature has to teach and who wish to lead their pupils to a higher and wider conception of life, that these suggestions are offered. Four things are important in making and keeping an aquarium : r. The equilibrium between plant and animal life must be * Teachers' Leaflet Xo. il. May, 1898. 141 142 Lf.afi.f. r Xir. secured and miintained. Tt is probable that an aquarium in an elementary school is mainly used for the study of animal liie ; but animals do not thrive in water where no plants are growing. Nature keeps plants and animals in the same pond and we must follow her lead. The [ilants ha\-e three valuable functions in the ai[uarium. First, they supply food for the herbi\'orous crea- tures. Second, they give off a ([uantity of owgen which is neces- sarv to the life of the animals. Third, they take up from the water the harmful carbonic acid gas which passes from the bodies of the animals. Just how the plants do this is another storv. 2. The aquarium must be \-entilated. Its top should be broad and open. E\-er\- little fish, snail and insect wants air, just as e\er\' bov and girl wants it. A certain rjuantity of air is mi.\ed with the water, and the creatures must breathe that or come to the surface for their sup]jl\-. How does Mother Nature manage the \'entilation of her aquaria, — the ponds and streams? The ])lants furnish ]iart of the air, as we ha\-e saitl. The open pond, wdiose surface is ruffled b\' every passing breeze, is constantly being provided \\-ith fresh air. A tadpole or a fish can n(i more li\-e in a Itmg-necked bottle than a boy can li\e in a chimney. 3. The temperature should be kejit lietween 40" and 50° Fahr. lioth nature and experience teach us this. A shady corner is a better place ffir the aquarium than a sunny window on a warm dav 4. It is well to clioose sucli animals for the a(piarium as are adapted to life in still \\-ater. I'nless one has an arrangement of water jupes to supply a constant flow of water through the aquarium, it is better not to try to keep creatures that we find in swift streams. S". --/ iimsrni}! jar iujiuiyiiiin . {A/or<' dni iiial fi fi 7>jouIl/ nn://:,' n /h-f/cr i<] uUiln i tini ) Iaff. in an Aquarium. 143 Practical experience sliows that there are certain dangers to guard against, — dangers which may result in the unnecessary suf- fering of the innocent. Perhaps the most serious results come from overstocking. It is better to have too few plants or animals than too many of either. A great deal of light, especially bright sunlight, is not good for the aquarium. A pond that is not shaded soon becomes green with a thick growth of slime or algs. This does not look well in an aquarium and is likely to take up so much of the plant-food that the other plants are " starved out." The plants in the school-room window may pro\ide shade for the aquarium, just as the trees and shrubs on its banks shade the pond. II we /•7;'. 5/>. .-/ rcitaii'^ula) aquariiini . find green slime forming on the light side of our miniature pond, we should put it in a darker place, shade it heavily so that the light comes in from the top onh', and put in a few more snails. These will make quick work of the green slime, since thev are fond of it, if we are not. Some of the most innocent-looking "water nvmpjhs"mav be concealing hab.'.s that \\'e can hardly appro\-e. There are some which feed on their smaller and i\-eaker neighbors, and even on the members of their own families. We know that such things go on in nature, but if we wish to lia\'e a happ^' familv \\'e must keep the cannibals by themselves. After an aquarium has been filled with water and the inhabit- 144 Leaflet XII. ants well established, it is not necessary to change the water, except in case of accident. The water that is lost by evaporation has to be replaced. It should be poured in gently in order not to disturb the water and destroy its clearness. If a piece of rubber tubing is available, a practical use of the siphon can be shown and the aquarium replenished at the same time. It is a good plan to use rain water, or clear water from a pond, for this purpose. A piece of thin board or a pane of glass may be used as a cover to keep the dust out of the aquarium. This need not fit tightly or be left on all the time. A wire netting or a co\'er of thin cot- ton net would keep the fiving insects from escaping, and it might be tied on permanently. Dust may be skimmed off the top of the water or mav be removed bv laving pieces of blotting paper on the surface for a moment. If any of the inhaliitants do not take kindly to the life in the aquarium, they can be taken out and kept in a jar by themselves — a sort of fresh air and cold water cure. If any chance to die they ought to be removed before they make the water unfit for the others. Bits of charcoal in the water are helpful if a deodor- izer or disinfectant is needed. Experience, the dear but thorough teacher, is of more value to every one of us than many rules and precepts. Noth- ing can rob us of the pleasure that comes of finding things out for ourselves. Much of the fun as well as much of the success in life comes from overcoming its difficulties. One must ha\'e a large store of patience and courage and hopefulness to undertake the care of an aquarium. After it is once made it is less trouble to take care of than a canarv or a pet rabbit. But most things that are worth doing re- quire patience, courage and hopefulness, and if we can add to our store of any of these Ijy our study of life in an aquarium we are so much the better for it. T«-o kinds of aquaria will be found useful in any school. Permanent ones — Fig.jy. A hom,--madc those which are expected to continue aquarium. through a season or through a whole year Ltff, in an Aquarittm. 145 if the school-room is warm enough to prevent freezing ; and teni- porary ones — those which are for lesson hours or for the study of special forms. If some one phase in the life of any aquatic animal is to be studied during a short period, it is well to have special tempo- rary aquaria. Also, when a talk on some of the occupants of the larger aquarium is to be given, specimens may be placed in small \'essels for the time being and returned later. For such purposes glass tumblers can be used, or small fruit jars, finger bowls, broken goblets set in blocks of wood, ordinary white bowls or dishes, tubs, pails or tanks for large fishes, — in fact any wide-mouthed ves- sel which is easy to get. Special suggestions will be made in con- nection with the study of some of the water insects and others. A piermanent aquarium need not be an expensive affair. The rectangular ones are best if large fishes are to be kept, yet they are not essential. Here, again, it is easier to write directions for the construction of a perfect a(]uarium than it is for the most patient teacher, with the help of the boys who are handy with tools, to put together a box of wood and glass that will not spring a leak some day and spoil everything. But failures do not discourage us ; they make us only more determined. If a rec- tangular water-tight l)ox is out of the question, what is the next best thing ? One of the busiest laboratories in New York State has plants and animals li\'ing in jars of all shajjes and sizes, — fruit jars, glass butter jars, candy jars, battery jars, museum jars, and others of like nature. There are rectangular and round aquaria of various sizes kept b)' all firms who deal in laborator}' supplies, and if some money is to be spent, one of these is a good in\'est- ment. Fig. 56 shows one of these rectangular ones, and Fig. 57 sho\\'s a round one of small size which is useful and does not cost much. A (loon School Aijuariu.m. A cheap, substantial aquarium for general use may be made of glass and "'angle" or " valle\' " tin. Pieces of glass are always handy and the tin can be had at any tin-shop. The tinsmith will know just how to cut, " angle " and solder it. The following directions for making an a(iuarium of this kind are supplied us bv Professor (_'. F. Hodge of Clark Uni^-ersity. He has made and used them for years with great satisfaction in the university laboratory and in graded schools. 10 146 Leafi.el- XII. The illustration (Fig. 58, 59) shows various sizes. A good all-round size has these dimensions : 12 inches high, 15 inches long and 8 inches wide. One may use spoiled photographic plates for small desk aquaria, in which to watch the development of " wigglers," dragon-fly nymphs or other water insects. Lids of wire screen are shown on some of the acpiaria in the picture (i, 2 and 3). To make the fra)uc. — If the a(juarium is to be ro x 8 x 5 inches, we shall need two ])ieces of glass for sides 10 x 5 inches, two for ends 8 x 10, and one for bottom 8x5; and two strips of tin i/\ inch wide, 28 inches long, and four strqis io.5k inches long. These should be angled bv the tinner, and out of them we shall make the frame. The 28-inch strijis sliould be cut with tinner's snips Fii^s. ^S, ^Q. PtTiiidih'nf aijun/'j lui! ntadi: oj tin anil ;^his^. half way in t«"0 at io-'b, 5-'8, io-'k and 5-"8 inches, cutting off the end at the last mark. This keejis the top and the bottom of the frame each in one |iiece. Xext we bend them into shape. When the corners are well s(juared they should be soldered. The four 10-^8 pieces make the ^'ertical corners and we will solder them in place. An easy wa\' to be sure that '"'ach angle is square is to hold it in a mechanic's sipiare while soldering it. To set f/ir i^hus. — La\- the a(piarium cement (see recipe) on evenh' all around the bottom of the frame and jjress the bottom glass into place. Put in the sides and ends in the same way. Next carefully put a few \'erv limlier twigs into the aquarium to hold the glass against the frame till the cement takes hold. Cut off the extra cement with a knife and smooth it nicely. Co\'er Life in ax A (,)UARIUM. 147 the frame with asphaltum varnish or black lacquer. Jn a week it will be ready to use. Double thick glass must be used for large aquaria. Cement. — Shun all resinous cements that require to be put on hot. The following is a recipe for cement used in successful angle tin aquaria, for both salt and fresh water : 10 parts, by measure, fine, dry, white .sand, 10 parts plaster of Paris, 10 parts litlrarge, I part powdered resin. Stir well together and, as wanted, mix to consistency of stiff putty with ////-(' boiled linseed oil. The formula given by the U. S. Fish Commission is recommended: 8 parts putty, I part red lead, I part litharge. Mix, when wanted, to consistency oi stiff \mX\.\' , with raw linseed oil. After reading all these directions and getting the idea of an aquarium, one should think the whole matter out for himself and make it just as he wants it. Directions are useful as suggestions only. The shallow form is better for raising toads, frogs and insect larvae ; the deeper aquaria show water plants and fishes to better advantage. Inhabitants of the Aquarium. It is now time to begin to think about' — ^^ what shall be kept in the aquarium. At the bottom a layer of sand, the cleaner the bet- ter, two or three inches deep will be needed. A few stones, not too large, may be dropped in on top of this first layer, to make it more natural. The water plants come next and will thrive best if planted securely in the sand. The most difficult thing is to get the water in without stirring things up. A good wa)- is to pour the water in a slow stream against the inside of the aquarium. The best way is to use a rubber tube siphon, but even then the water ought not to flow from a very great height. If the aquarium is large, it had better be put in its permanent place before filling. The aquarium will soon be ready for snails, polliwogs, and what ever else we may wish to jiut into it. In the Eoles ha\'e hatched. As they grow larger a few mav be transferred to a ijermanent aquarium prepared especiall)- for them in a dish with sloping sides, and their changes watched from week t(j week through the season. The growing polliwog feeds on vege- table diet ; «hat does the full grown frog eat? Insecti that can In- kept in ai//iaria. — Insects are to many the most satisfactory creatures that can be keep m a(iuaria. They are plentiful, easy to get, each one of the many kinds seems to have habits peculiar to itself, and each more curious and interesting than the last. Some insects sijend their entire life in the water ; others are aquatic during one stage of their existence only. Those described here are a few ot the common ones in ponds and sluggish streams, of the central part of tlie state of New York. If these cannot be found, others JList as interesting may be kept instead. One can hardly make a single dip with a net without bringing out of their hiding places many of these " little people." The predaceous diving-beetle (Fig. 67) is well named. He is a di\er by profession and is a skilled (jne. The >oung of this Fig. 6f. The pri Jnceous iti v i n l; Iwllc. ^52 Leaflet XII. fii;-. 6S. A loakf-tig^-r. beetle are known as "water-tigers" (Fig. 68), and their habits justif)' the name Their food consists of the young of other insects ; in fact it is better to keep them by themselves unless we wish tu ha\e the a(iuarium depopulated. \\'hen the tiger has reached his full size, his form changes and he rests for a time as a pupa ; then comes forth as a hard, shinv beetle like Fig. 67. The water-scavenger beetle (Fig. 69), so called because of its appetite for decayed mat- ter, is common in many ponds, ft has, bke the diving beetle, a hard, shin )' 1) a c k, w i t h a straight line down the middle, but the two can be distinguished when seen together. The )'oung of this beetle look and act something like the water-tigers, Init ha\'e not such great ugl}- jaws. There are three other swimmers even more delightfid to watch than those alread)' mentioned. The water-boatmen (Fig. 70), with their sturdy oar-like legs and busi- ness-like wa\' ()f using them, are droll little fellows. The}' are not so large as the back- swimmers. Fig. 71 shows a back-swimmer just in the act of pulling a stroke. These creatures swim with their boat-shajjed liacks down and their six legs up. ^\'e must l)e careful how we handle the back-swimmers, for each one of them carries a sharp bill and may gi\-e us a thrust with it \\hich would be [lainlul, perhaps poisonous. The water-scorpion (Fig. 72) is a (jueer creature li\ing in a neighborly wav \\\l\\ the boatmen and back-swimmers, though not so easy to find. Do not throw away any dirty little t«'ig which )'ou find in the net after a dip among water plants near the bottom of a stream or pond. It may begin to S(.p.iirm and reveal the fact that it is no twig but a ''*'*■ 7°- ^yati-r-b,hitiiian. slender-legged insect with a spindle-shaped bod}'. We may handle it without danger, as it is harmless. This Fig. 6g. A watcr-sca "LlKK IX AN AlJUARiUlL fs; is a water-scorpion, and liis way of catching his prey and getting his air supply will he interesting to watch. He is not shy and will answer (juestions about himself promptly and /^^A ^^1,^ cheerfully. Fig. 72 will give an idea of the size and appearance of tliis insect. No water insect except the big sca\engei beetle can begin to compare in size with the Fr^.-i Aha,k-,,,„„,„,r. >-'''"' water-bug (Fig. 73). We may think at first that he is a beetle, yet the way he crt)sses his wings on his back |)ro\"es him a true bug. In (|uiet ponds tliese giants are common enough, but the bo^• or girl who " liags " a full-grown one at the first dip) of the net ma\" be cmisidered luckv. The boatmen, back-swimmers and giants all have oars, )'et are not entirely dependent on tliern. 'rhe\' ]ia\e strong u'lngs, too, and if their old home gets too ■'g- 7- ]\'ati-y-n\>rpion. Giant luatcr-hn'^. tliickly settled, and the other insects on wdrich they feed are scarce, they fly away to other places. The giant water-bug often migrates at night, and is attracted to any bright light lie sees in his journey. This habit has gi\'en him the popular name of " electric-light bug." Among the insects which spend but part of their life in the water, we shall find many surprises. It made us feel queer ivhen we learned that the restless but innocent-looking wiggler of the rain- water barrel was really the )'oung of the too familiar mosquito. '54 Leafi.kt xir The adult nios([iiito leaves its cLigs in tiny boat-shaped masses on the surface of stagnant water, where food \\'ill be abundant for the young -which soon appear. Some time is sjjent bv the wigglers in eating and growing before they curl up into pupse. Insects are rarely active in the pupa stage. The mosquito is one of the I'ery fe\\' exceptions. l'"rom these liveh' jnipa; the full-grown mos- (piitoes emerge. Fig. 74 shows a small glass tumbler in which are seen the three aquatic.: stages of the moscjuito's life anil an adult just lca\-ing the pupa skin. Nothing is easier than to watch the entire develoj.jment of the mosquito, and the changes must be seen to be fully enjoyed and ajjpreciated. It would be interesting to note the differences between the mosquitoes that come out of the small aquaria. A supi)ly ot wigglers may be kept in the permanent a(|uariuni where thev serve as food for the other insects. )i\'er\' child knows the dragon-fly or darning-needle, and none but the bra\-est of them dare venture near one «'ithout covering ears or eyes or mouth, for fear of being sewed. JNIany and wide-spread are the siqierstitions con- it is often difficult to bring children to belie\'e that this creature, besides being a thing of beautv, is not onh' harmless but actiialh' beneficial. If they knew how many mos(juitos the darning-needle eats in a day the\' would welcome instead (jf fearing the ga\' creature. The "\'oung of the dragon-ll\- li\'e a groveling existence, as differ- ent as can be from that of their sun-loving jjarents. Their food consists of mosijuito larva;, water-fleas and the like, and their method of cati hing their prey is as no-^'el as it is effective. Pu]:)ils and teacdier can get plenty of good healthv entertainment out of the behavior of these awkward and voracious little mask-wearers. The first dip of the net usually brings up a supply of dragon-fly nvmphs and of their more slender cousins, the damsel-flv nym].)hs. The latter have expanded plate-like appendages at the hind end of the body whicdi distinguish them from the dragon-fly nym])hs,. '"/" /■',;'■. 7^. Ti n!pt'r''!t'"y of a drai;pn-fy bodied creature wliich lives '" ^"•<" '" "" ."/'""-'''"«. inside is safe from Injury. The commonest of the many forms of houses found here are those illustrated in Figs. 76 and 77. These Fig. yj. An- other caildico- will find all thev wish to eat in a well-stocked a(juarium. ^^']len full grown the\' will leave the water as winged creatures, like l'"ig. 78, and return to its depths no more. There is surel}' no la(d<: of material furnished b\' Mother Nature 156 Lkah.et XJI. for the study of acjuatir life. I'^very one wlio really believes in its usefulness can ha\-e an aquarium, and will feel well repaid for the time and effort required when the renewed interest in nature is witnessed which this close contact with living beings brings to every student. Let us take hf)ld with a will, overcome the difficulties in tlie way, and teacher and pupils become students together. LEAFLET XIII. A STUDY OF FISHES.* liv II. I). KEED. HE first forms of animal life which attract the young naturalist's attention are doubtless the birds. These are most interesting to him because of their beau- tiful colors, their sweet songs, and the grace with which they fly. But who has watched the fishes in a brook or an ac|uarium and is not able to grant them a place, in l)eautv, grace and delicate coloration, e(inal to the birds ? To be sure, fishes cannot sing, yet there are so many other interesting facts in connection witli their habits and life-histories that it fully makes up for tlieir lack of voice. Tiiiv Parts of a l-'isn. "While obserx'ing a li\-ing fisli and admiring its beauty, it will ];irobabl\' occur to some of us that a fisli consists onl)' of a head and tail. Vet this is not all. between tlie head and tail is a part tb.at we may call tlie trunk. It contains the digesti^'e and other organs, 'i'here is no indication of a neck m a fish. .\n\" such constriction would destroy the reguhu- outline of the animal's body and thus retard tlie speed with which it moves through the water. But head, trunk and tail are not all. There are attached to the outer side of the fisli's body certain appendages that are called fins. Before discussing some of the different kinds of fishes and their habits, it will be necessar\' to learn something aljout fins, for the fins of all fishes are not alike. W'lien a fish moves through the water, it bends its tail lirst to one side and then to the other. This undulatory movement, as it is called, pushes the fish's body ahead. One can observe the mo\'ements easily upon a specimen kept alive in an aquariuni jar. At the extreme end of the tail * Xature-Stiuly <^) .laiT crly, No. S: f.eallet 21. January, tgtji. 157 ■ LlOAFLKT XIII. there is a broad, notclieJ fin which aids the tail in propelling and steering the body. "We will call this the tail or caudal fin (Fig. 79 B). In most of our common fishes there are seven fins — six without the caudal. The first of these si.v is a large fin situated near the middle of the back. This is the hack or dorsal fin (Fig. 79 A). Sometimes we may find a fish that has two dorsal fins. In this case the one nearest the head is called first dorsal and the next one behind it the second dorsal. Near the head, in a position corresponding to our arms, is a pair of fins which are called the t?/-/// oy pectoral fins (Fig. 79 E), Farther back towards the tail, on the under side of the fish, is another pair, correspond- ing in position to the hind legs of a cjuadruped. This pair is called the Ay or pelvic fins (Fig. 79 D). Just behind the pelvic fins is a single fin, situated on the middle line of the body. This is the anal fin (FTg. Duv^raiii of a fish lo 79 C). The pectoral and pelvic fins A, Joruil fill ; B, caudal '^xt called jKiired fins because they are in jjairs. The otiiers whicli are not in pairs are called median fins Ijecaiise they are situated on the mid- dle line of the bod)-. Tlie paired fins ser\-e as delicate balancers to keep the body right sitle up and to regulate sjieed. They are also used to propel the body backwards. .Vfter naming the dif- ferent fins of the fish in tlie schoolroom anuarium, it will l)e inter- esting to oliserve the uses of each. On the side of the bodv, extending fr(.)in the head to the caudal fin, is, in most fishes, a line made up of a series of small tubes which open upon the surface. This is called the lateral liin\ and acts in the capacity of a sense organ (Fig. 79 L). Is the lateral line straight or curved? Does it cur\e upwards or downwards ? Does the curvature differ in different kinds of fishes ? Do all the fishes you find possess a lateral line ? Is the lateral line complete in all fishes, /. <•., does it extend from the head to the caudal fin without a single break ? ^^V- 7'/ slio-a /ill : C. ami/ /in : J\ pelvi /iiii : /■-', pcitoral fins : /, iai- cral /i lis. Where F'ishes Spend the ^\^1NTER. As winter approaches and the leaves fall and the ground becomes frozen, the birds lea\-e us and go farther south into \\'armer climates where food is more abundant. A\'e are ail Srui)\' i)K FisiiF.s. 159 familiar with this habit of the birds, but how many of us know or have even wondered what the fishes have been doing through the cold winter montlis wliile the streams and ponds ha\-e been covered with ice ? Before tlie warmth of spring comes to raise the temperature of the streams, let us go to some familiar place in a brook where, during the summer, are to be found scores of minnows. None are to be found ikjw. 'I'lie brook shows no signs of ever ha\-ing contained an\' Ining creatures. Suppose we go farther up or down the stream until we find a protected [(Ool Fi^^. So- I. Shiiur : 3, B,irrr,l k'llli I'isJi : ,\ l:laik-uosr,l Dm,: : 7, Ci\-ck Chnh ; J, Young of Lar;^i'-lllotllho[AR\' KOOEKS MIl.IKK. MONCi the (.(jniinonest treasures l)roiight into tlie schools \>\ children in the fall or winter are the cocoons of our giant silk-wnrnis. If one has a place to put them where the air is not too -warni or drv, ?i\ '^" special care will he necessary to keep them ,"•1 through the ^^•inter. Out-door conditions must be imitated as nearly aspossiljle. Jf earl\' in the fall one is fortunate enough t(j meet one of these giants out for a walk, it is the simplest thing in the world to capture him and «-atch him spin his marvelous winter blanket. 'Wvo members of this famil)- oi giant insects are c|uite common in this state, the largest the Cecropia, called sometimes the iMnijeror, and the Promethea. /v.'. ,V-. Ci'ii'i^ii of Ihc Cecropia moth. It somctiiin-s /niiiiis fvoiii ,1 t-oii;- 0/ a jyuit trt'o. The Cecrojjia moth often measures five or six inches across — veritable giant. Its main color is dusty brown, with spots and * Xature-Stuily r^uartcrly, Xn. 4; Leaflet 17. -Marcli, igoo. 167 i68 Leaflet XTV bands of cinnamon brown and white. On each wing is a white crescent bordered with red and outlined with a black line. The body is heavy and covered with thick, reddish-brown hairs, crossed near the end with black and white lines. On its small head are two large feathery feelers or antennas. The Cecropia moth emerges from the cocoon, full grown, in early summer, when out of doors. Those kept in the house often come out as early as March. The eggs are deposited by the adults upon apple, pear, cherry, maple and other shade and fruit trees. Professor Comstock says that the spiny caterpillars which hatch from the eggs in about two weeks, are known to feed upon the leaves of some fifty species of plants. One could therefore hardly make a mistake in offering refreshment to these creatures, since they are anything but epi- cures. Tlie full-grown caterpillar, having sjient the summer eating and growing, with now and then a change of clothes, is often three inches long and an inch in diameter. It is a dull bluish green in color. On its liack are two rows of "\^'art-like ])rotuber- ances (tubercles), some yellow, some red, some blue. As there is nothing else in na- ture which is just like it, one need have no difficulty in recognizing the Cecropia in its different phases. The cocoon which this giant silk-worm weaves is shown in Fig. 87. It maybe found on a t«'ig of some tree in the doorvard, but sometimes on a fence-post or equally unexpected place. Inside the cocoon the brown pupa, alive but helpless, waits for spring. After the moth comes out it is interesting to examine the struc- ture of the cocoon, and to discover how the moth managed to Iree itself without destroying the silken blanket (Fig. 88). Swinging loosely from last summer's twigs in lilac bushes, and on such trees as wild cherry and ash, one often finds the slender cocoons of the Promethea moth (Fig. 89). We cannot help admir- ing the skill and care disjjlayed by the spinner of this tidy winter o\-er(oat. The giant silk-worm which spun it chose a leaf as a foundation. He took care to secure himself against the danger of falling by fastening the leaf to the twig which bore it by means of shining strands of silk. It is easy to test the strength of this fastening [)y attempting to juill it loose from the twig. /'/V'. .W. Elhl of CiKOOII ('/ CCiTOpiu, i )l S I d C ///£■ ;//<>/// i'rfs out. ThK ()PENTNG III' A CflCDOX 169 The moths which come from these cocoons do not always look alike, yet they are all brothers and sisters. The broth- ers are almost black, while the wings of the sisters are light reddish brown, Avith a light gray wavy line crossing the middle of both wings. The margins of the wings are clay-colored. On each wing is a dark velvety spot. The adults emerge in spring and are most often seen in the late afternoon. Their flight is more spirited than that of the Cecropia, which moves very sedately, as becomes a giant. The caterpillars of this species, the Fig. go. Co- LOon 0/ Fro- iueihea, cut open leti^th- ivisc to shoiu the val-.'i- Uke device at upp end til young P r o m e t h e a s, feed during tlie summer on leaves of wild cherry, asli and other trees. T h e y grow to be about two inches long, and are distinguished by their pale bluish green yellow legs. They also have like elevations on their black and shining, four of and one large and yellow hindmost end. Sg. Cocoon Proniethca iiiotJi fastened to a t7oi;r with silk. from others color and rows of wart- backs, some a bright red near the The life of these giant insects is divided into four distinct stages : the egg, deposited by the adult moth usually on or near the food plant ; the larva, or cater- i,lgk pilhir stage, when most of the eating and all the grow- iviiicii tiie ing is done ; the pupa, passed inside the cocoon woven adult i.ioth ,^ ^^_^^ jj^g ^^^^jj .^ winged moth. pushes Its -^ J ' ! ^ -..■ay out. The life-cycle or generation is one year, the winter being passed in the pupa stage. The insect lives but a short time in the adult stage and the egg stage is but two or three weeks. ]Most of tlie summer is devoted to the caterpillar phase of its life. These creatures are entirely harmless. They seldom appear in numbers sufficient to make them of economic importance. LEAFLET XV. A TALK ABOUT SPIDERS.* liv J. H. COAISTOCK. F all our little neighbors of the fields there are none tliat are more universally shunned and feared than spiders, and few that deser\'e it less. There is a wide-spread belief that spiders are dangerous, that the>- are liable to bite, and that their bites are very ^-enomous. Now this may be true of certain large species that live in hot countries ; but llie spiders of the Northern United .States are practically harmless. It is true, spiders bite and inject \enom sufficient to kill a fly into the «'ound made by their jaws. But they are e.xceedingl)- shy creatures, fearing man more than the\' are to be feared. If an observer will refrain from picking u|) a spider there is not the slightest danger of being bitten by one ; and excepting a single uncommon species no spider is known in this piart of the country whose bite would serioush' affect a human being. On the other hand, spiders do much to keep in check various insect pjests, and hence must be regarded as our friends. It is, however, from a different point of \-ie\\' that \\c wish to look upon them at this time. It is as illustrations of remarkable develop- ment of instinctive powers, and of wonderful correlation of structure and habit, that we would have the reader study these creatures. The teacher of nature-study can find no more avail- able or more fertile field from \\'hich to take sul)jects for interest- ing children m the world about us. Let us then put aside our fears and go into the fields and see whether we can learn some- thing of the ways of these spinners. TH]'; FU.\\\KL-\VEB Wk.aveks. Often on summer mornings the grass of the roadsitles and fields is seen to be carpeted Avith little sheets of glistening silk, the webs of the grass-spider. None were observed the day before ; and we * ,\alure-Sluily (Quarterly, y- Leaflet 22. -Ma)', igoi. 171 772 Leaflet XV. wonder at the sudden appearance of this host of weavers. Later in the da)' the webs have vanished ! Have the weavers rolled them up and carried them off? We remember that there was an especially fine one near the end of the veranda steps ; we examine the place carefully and find that it is still there, but not so con- spicuous as it was. The warm sun has dissipated the dew which rendered visible to our dull eyes the tapestry of the fields. Now that our eyes are opened we can find the webs everywhere and are impressed with a suspicion that perhaps ordinarily we see very little of what is around us. We e.xamine one of the webs carefully and find that it is a closely woven sheet made of threads running in all directions ; that it is attached to spears of grass, and supported by numerous guy lines, and that from one side a funnel-like tube extends downwards. If, while we are watching, an insect alights on the sheet, there darts from the tunnel, where she was concealed, the owner of the web, a dark-colored spider ; and the insect must be agile if it escapes. If you attempt to catch the spider it retreats to its tunnel ; and when you examine the tunnel the spider is not there. You find that the tube is open below, that there is a back door by which the spider can escape when hard pressed. \\'e call those spiders that makes webs of this kind Tlic Ftinnel- weh WciiTci-s. They are long-legged, brown spiders, which run on the upper surface of their webs ; these are usually made on grass, but sometimes ihe\ are found in the angles of buildings, and in quite high places. The Cop.wf.b \Veaveks. The webs that we most often find in the corners of rooms are of a different kind and are made by the members of a familv known as T/u- Colni U'favers. In these webs there is not such a definite sheet of silk as in those of the funnel-web weavers, but instead a shapeless maze of threads extending in all directions. ISIany of the cobweb weavers, howe\'er, make tlieir webs in the fields on bushes, and weave in them a flat or curved sheet, under which the spider hangs back downward. The funnel-web weav- ers run right side up ; the cobweb weavers hang inverted. Some of the cobweb weavers do not remain in their webs, but have a nest in a neighboring crack or corner, from which they rush to seize their pre\-, and sometimes there is a funnel-shaped tube leading lo their nest. But these spiders differ from the true A Talk Abuut Spiders. 173 funnel-web weavers in running back downwards on the lower side of their webs. The Orb Weavers. The spider webs that most often excite admiration are those in which the supporting threads radiate from a center like the spokes of a wheel, and bear a spiral thread. Such webs are known as orb-webs ; and the family of spiders that make them, The Orb ]]'cavers. Few if any of the structures built by lower animals are more wonderful than these webs ; but they are so com- mon that they are often con- sidered hardly worthy of notice. If they occurred only in some remote corner of the earth, every one would read of them with interest. The Avebs or nets of the dif- ferent species of orb weavers differ in the details of their structure; but the general plan is cjuite similar. There is first a framework of sup- porting lines. The outer ]jart of this framework is irregular, depending upon the position of the objects to which the net is attached ; but the central jjart is very regular, and consists of a number of lines radiating from the center of the net (Fig. 91). All of these supporting lines are dry and inelastic. Touch them with your pencil and you find that they neither stretch nor adhere to it. Upon these radiating lines there is fastened in a very regular manner a thread which is sticky and elastic. This will adhere to your pencil, and will stretch several times its nor- mal length before breaking. Usually this sticky thread is fastened to the radiating lines so as to form a spiral ; but a few species make nets in which it is looped back and forth. And even in the nets where the greater part of the thread is in a spiral there are in most cases a few loops near the lower margin (Fig. 91). Examine the next orb-web you find and see whether it is true in that case. Many of the orb weavers strengthen their nets by spinning a /'/;''. gl. Xi'iirlv Civnph^lcd orb-ii'i'l'. 174 Leafi.kt XV. zigzag ribbon across the center. This ribbon is made by spread- ing apart the spinnerets, the organs from which the silk is spun, and which will be described later. Ordinarily the tips of the spinnerets are held close together so that they form a single thread, but by spreading them apart many threads can be spun at once, thus forming a ribbon. Some orb weavers are not content with making a simple zigzag band across the center of the net, but weave an elaborate bit of lace in this position. Fig. 92 is from a jjhotograph of the center of the net of one of these spiders, which was found near Ithaca. In studying the \arious kinds of orb-webs one should pay par- ticular attention to the center of the web ; for this part differs greatly in the webs of the different species. There is usually a /////' composed entirely of dry and inelastic silk wo^'en in an irregu- lar manner ; outside of this there are several turns of a spiral thread which is also dry ; this constitutes the iiofclicd zo/u\ a name suggested by the fact that the spiral line is attached for a short space to each radius it crosses, thus gi\'ing the line a notched course. In many cases it is here, on the hul) and tlie notched zone, that the spider waits for its pre\' ; and it is obvious that sticky silk in this place would be objectionable. Between the notched zone and the s/>iral zone, the part fur- nished with the sticky spiral thread, there is a clear space, the fi-cr zoiir, crossed only bv the radii. This gives the spider an opjjortunit)' to pass from one side of the web to tlie other witliout going around tlie entire web. Some orb weavers do not wait upon the hul) but have a retreat near one edge of the net, in which they hang back downwards. While resting in these retreats they keep hold of some of the lines leading from the net, so that they can instantly detect any jar caused by an entrapped insect. \\'hen an insect in its flight touches one of the turns of the sticky line the line adheres to it, but it stretches so as to allow the insect to become entangled in other turns of the line. If it were not for this elasticity of the sticky line, most insects could readily tear themselves away before the spider had time to reach them. In running over its net the spider steps upon the radii, carefully a-\'oiding the sticky line ; otherwise it would destroy its own net. Fig. g2. Lace-likt hitb of ni! orb-7i'i'h. A Taijc Ahou'I' Spidkks. 175 The rapidit}' with which a spider can cross its net without touch- ing the sticky line is remarkable. In making its web an orb weaver first spins a number of lines extending irregularly in various directions about the place where its orb is to be ; this is the outer supporting framework. Often the first line spun is a bridge between two quite distant points, as the branches of two separate bushes. How did the spider cross the gulf ? It has no wings. The bridge building can be easily seen on a warm summer evening, the time at which the s])iders are most active repairing their old nets and building new ones. The spider lifts the hind end of its body and spins forth a thread ; this is carried off by the wind, until, finally striking some object, it becomes fast to it. 'I'lie spider then pulls in the slack line, like a sailor, and when the line is taut fastens it to tjie object on which it is stand- ing, and the bridge is formed. After making the outward frame w o r k, the radiating lines are formed. A line is stretched across the space so as to pass through the point which is to be the center of the orb. In doing this the spider may start on one side, and be forced to walk in a very roundabout way on tlie outer framework to tlie opposite side. It carefully holds tlie new line up behind it as it goes along, so that it shall not become entangled with the lines on which it walks ; one or 1:)0th hind feet serve as hands in these spin- ning operations ; for, as the spider has eight feet, it can spare one or two for other purposes tlian locomotion. When the desired point is reached the slack is pulled in and the line fastened. The spider then goes to the point where the center of the orb is to be, and, fastening another line, it walks back to the outer framework, and attaches this line an inch or two from the first. In this way ail of the radiating lines are drawn. The ne.xt step is to stay these W-ailv complctt'd orh- 176 Tj'.aflet XV radii by a spiral line, which is begun near the center, and attached to each radius as it crosses it. The turns of this spiral are as far apart as the spider can conveniently reach. All of the threads spun up to this stage in the construction of the web are dry and inelastic. The spider now proceeds to stretch upon this framework a stickv and elastic line, which is the most important part of the web, the other lines Ijeing merely a frame- work to support it. In spinning the sticky line, the spider begins at the outer edge of the orb, and passing around it, fastens this line to each radius as it goes. Thus a second spiral is made. The turns of this spiral are placed cjuite close together, and the first spiral, which is merely a temporary support, is destroyed as the second spiral progresses. Fig. 93 represents a wel) in which the /V;'. 9t^. ]]^asp,'ivit]t luaJ, Fi;^. g^. Spider^ s}i07^'iii;^ J-'l;^\<.g6. LoWii' side of ccpli- t ]l r Li X and ahdonwit division of tJw bodv into oiotin'rnx of a spidor : soparafod. oopJialotliorax t ./ o/'- mil, ni o! n d i h I o : mx, dornon. maxtllo; \\ palpns : 1, lo'.oor lip : s, siernnin. second spiral is made over the outer half of the radii. In this figure, (Uj represents the temporary stayline ; /'/', the sticky spiral ; and (i\ the fragments of the first spiral hanging from tlie radii. The P.JiRTs 111' .\ Spider. Sjjiders differ much in appearance from the true insects. In the insects the body is composed of three regions : the head ; the thora.x, to which the legs are attached ; and the abdomen or hind ]jart of the body (Fig. 94). In the spiders the head and thorax are grown together, forming a region which is known as the ccphalot/iorax ; to this the ahJoiiicn is joined by a short, narrow stalk (Fig. 95). Spiders differ also from insects in the number of their legs, spjiders having eight legs and insects only six. A Talk Aboui' Spiderp '77 Spiders lia\e two pairs of jaws, wliicli, except in the Tarantula family, move sidewise like tlie jaws of insects. The first pair of jaws are called the iiiandiblcs. Each mandible consists of two seg- ments, a strong basal one and a claw-shaped terminal one, at the tip of which the poison gland opens (Fig. 96). The second pair of jaws is known as the inaxilhe. These jaws are situated just behind the mandibles, one on each side of the mouth. P.ach maxilla liears a large feeler or palpus. These palpi vary greatly in form ; frequently, especially in females, they resemble legs ; hence many spiders ajipear to have five pairs of legs. In the male spiders the last segment of the palpus is more or less enlarged, ending in a complicated, knob-like structure (Fig. 97). It is thus easy to determine the sex of a spider by mereh' examining |/ the palpi. The greater number of spiders ha\-e four pjairs of eyes (Fig. 98), but there may be only one, two, or three pairs ; and certain cave spiders are blind. '^ . . The eyes appear like little gems set in . ^ . ^^^^j the front of the cephalothorax. They juauJibh-s. are most prominent in the jumping spiders, which stalk their prey on plants, logs, fences, and the sides of buildings. The most characteristic feature of spiders is their s]jinning organs. The silk is secreted in glands witiiin the abdomen, and while in the body it is a fluid. It jiasses out through the spin- Fi:^. 97. J/17-V- illa and pal- pus of male hoiisc-spiih-r. Fi£^. gg. Spinnerets of a spider. Fig. 100. A Fig. 10 J. ]'iscid silk group of from an orb-weh. spin}ling lubes. ig. 103. Spin- nerets and ert- bellum of a clirleel-t h r e a d "Loeaver . nercts, which are situated near tlie hind end of the abdomen. There are two or three pairs of spinnerets. These are more or less finger-like in form, and sometimes jointed (Fig. 99). Upon the end of each spinneret there are many small tubes, the spiii- 12 178 T.EAFLET XV. iiiiig tubes (Fig. loo), from which the silk is spun. Some spiders have as many as one hundred and fifty or two hundred of these spinning tubes on each spinneret. Ordinarily the tips of the spinnerets are brought close together, so tliat all of the minute threads that emerge from the numerous spinning tubes unite to form a single thread. Hence this tiny thread, which is so delicate that we can see it only when the light falls on it in a favorable way, is composed of hundreds of tlireads. It is not like a rope, composed of separate strands ; for all the minute threads fuse together into a single thread. The change in the silk from a fluid to a solid cord, strong enough to support the weight of the spider, must take ])lace quickly after the silk comes in contact with the air on leaving the spinning tubes ; the minute size of the threads coming from tlie spinning tulies doubtless facilitates this change. Sometimes a si)ider will spread its spinnerets apart, and thus spin a broad ribbon-like band. We have seen a spider seize a large grasshopper which was entangeled in its web, and rolling it ()\'er two or three times, comjjletely envelop it in a sheet of silk spun from its spread-apart spinnerets. We have already described bands spun by orl) wea\'ers across the hub of tlie net in this way. It is supposed that the two kinds of silk spun by the orb weavers are spun from different spinnerets, and that the viscid silk comes from the front pair. When this silk is first spun, the viscid matter forms a continuous layer of liquid on the outside of it. But very soon this layer Ijreaks up into bead-like masses — in a way similar t(j that in which the moisture on a clothes line on a foggy day collects into drops (Fig. loi). There are two families of spiders that have spinning organs differing from those of all other spiders. They have in front of the usual spinnerets an additional organ, which is named the cribcUiiiii (Fig. 102, c). This bears spinning tubes like the other spinnerets, but these tubes are much finer. These sjjiders ha\-e also on the ne.xt-to-the-last segment of '"'."," '"' , """' "'" '■' the hind legs one or two rows of curved spines; miiini/ii. t'l's organ is the calaiiiistniin (Fig. 103). By means of the calamistrum these spiders comb from the cribellum a band of loose threads which form a part of their webs. '\ Tat.k Ai!oiT-i ,S)'ii)I':rs, 179 The Ci;kled-1'hreaij Weavkus. The spiders possessing a cribellurn and a calamistrum repre- sent two families, one of which makes irregidar webs ; the other, those which are of definite form. An irregular web of a curled-thread weaver is shown in Fig. /"/;-■. 104. Web of a curkd-lhrtmi 'u,-nvcr. T04, from a photograjjh. In this weli tlie framework is of ordi- nary silk ; and upon tliis framework is ]jlaced a band of curled or tangled threads (Fig. 105). An insect alighting on a net of this kind is likely to get its feet caught in tlie tangled silk, and to be held fast till the spider can pounce upon it. Nets of this kind are found on bushes and on the sides of Ituildintrs. I So Leaflet XV, There are two (luite distiiK t types jf regular webs made by spiders possessing a cribeUum and a calamistrum. One is a round web which resembles at first sight those of the orb weavers ; but it differs from the ordinary orb-web in that the spiral thread is made of curled or hackled silk. These webs are nearly horizontal, and are usually made between stones or in low bushes ; they are not common. The other t^pe is represented by the web of the triangle spider. This web is most often found stretched between the twigs uf a dead branch of pine or hemlock. At first sight it appears like a fragment of an orb-web (Fig. io6) ; Init a little study will show that it is complete. The accompany- /■'/>. Jo6. Jl','/' ,•/ //u- tn'aiig-/,- i/i/oiiii\/l-s) carries her egg-sac with her mandibles until the young are read)- to emerge. At this time the mother fastens the egg-sac i]"i a busli, and spins irregular tlireads about it, among which the young spiders remain for a time (Fig. no). In the specimen figured, the egg-sac was con- cealed in the upper |)art of tlie web ThI'', I)ALL()()ni\(; .Spidkrs. In warm autumn davs, innumerable threads can be seen stream- ing from fences, bushes, and the tij's of stalks of grass, or float- ing through tlie air. These are made l)v the Ballooning Spiders, which are able to travel long distances, hundreds of miles, through tlie air \)\ means of these silken threads. The ballooning spider climbs to some ele\-ated point, and then, standing on the tips of its feet, lifts its body as high as it can, and spins out a thread of silk. This thread is carried up and away by a current of air. When the thread is long enough the force of the air current on it is sufficient to bear the spider up. It then lets go its hold with its feet and sails away. That these spiders travel long distances in this manner has been shown by the fact that they have been seen floating through the air at sea far from land. Fig. no. Xiirscry of Doloniedes, LEAFLET XVL LIFE HISTORY OF THE TOAD.* By S. II. C.A.GE.f K account of its economic importance, and because the marvelous clianges passed through in growing from an egg to a toad are so rapid that they may all be seen during a single spring term of school, the common or warty toad has been selected as the subject of a leaflet in nature-study. Toads are found everywhere in New York, and nearly e\-erywhere in the world ; it is easy, therefore, to get abundant material for study. This animal is such a good friend to the farmer, the gardener, the fruit-grower, the florist and the stock-raiser that everv man and woman, every boy and girl, ought to know something about it. Furthermore, it is hoped and sincerely believed that the feeling of repugnance and dislike, and the consequent cruelty to toads, will disappear when teachers and children learn something about their wonderful changes in form, structure and habits, and how harmless and helpful they are. Then, who that knows of the chances, the dangers and struggles in the life of the toad, can help a feeling of sympathy ; for after all, how like our human life it is. Where sympathy is, crueltv is impossible, and one comes to feel the spirit of these beautiful lines from Coleridge's " Ancient Mariner: " '' He praycth best who lovft/i Ivst All things both ,i,"rt-at and small ; For the dear God 7oho loveth lis fie made aild lo^eeth all" It was William Harvey, the discoverer of the circulation of the * Teachers' Leaflet, Xo. g, May, 1897. \ It was the desire of the author to tell the story of this le.iflet in pic- tures as well as in worrls, and he wishes to express his appreciation of the enthusiasm and aljilit)' with which the illustrations were executed by ^Ir. C. W. Furlong. In this edition are added half-tone reproductions of photographs to liring out more completely the life story. 185 i86 Lp.afi.et XVI, l)liK)il, who first clear!)' stated the fact that every animal comes from an egg. This is as true of a toad as of a chicken. The toad li\-es on the land and often a long way from any pond or stieam, but the first part of its life is sijent in the water ; and so it is in the water that the eggs must be looked for. To find the eggs one should \-isit the natural or artificial ponds so common along streams. Ponds from sjirings or e\'en artificial reser\'oirs or the basins around fountains, also may contain the eggs. The time for finding the eggs depends on the season. The toad obser\-es the season, not the almanac. In ordinary years, the best time is from the middle of April to the first of May. One is often guided to the right place by noticing the direction from whicli the song or call of the toad comes. The call of the toad is more or less like that of the tree toads. In general it sounds like whistling, and at the same time jironouncing deej) in the throat, bii-rr-r-r-r-. If one watches a toad while it makes its call, one can soon learn to distinguish the sound from others some- «-hat similar. It will be found tliat different toads ha^'e slightly different voices, and the same one can \arv the tone considerably, so that it is not so eas)- after all to distinguish the man)' batrachian solos and choruses on a spring or summer e\"ening. It will be noticed that the toad does not opeii its mouth when it sings, but, instead, the resonator or \ocal sac under its mouth and throat is greath' exi.ianded. (_)ne must be careful to distinguish the expan- sion of the mouth in breathing trom the expansion of the ^'Ocal sac. See the left hand toad in the dran'ing (Fig. iii) for the vcjcal sac, and the toail m hibernation (h'ig. 121) for the expansion of the mouth in breathing. It is only the males that possess the vocal sac, so that the toad chorus is comjiosed soleh' of male \'oices. riie eggs are laid in long strings or ropes which are nearly always tangled and «dund round the water [ilants or sticks on the bottom of the pond. If the ]iond is large and deep, the eggs are laid near the shore \\here the water is shallow. If the eggs have been freshl)' laid in (dear water the egg ropes will look like glass tubes containing n string of jet lilack beads. After a rain the eggs are obscured In' the fine mud that settles on the trans- parent jelly surrounding them, but the jelh' is much more evident than in the freshh' laid egg strings. Secure enough of the egg string to include 50 or 100 eggs and l)lace it in a glass fruit ilish or a basin with clean \\'ater from the Liri: Hisi'Dkv iH'- 'iiiic Ti 187 Fi^\ III, J'/ic load in z'arioiis slac^^es of development from the Ci^i^' to the iidnit 1 88 Leaflkt XVI. pond where the eggs were lounch Let the eliildren look at the eggs ^'ery carefully and note the color and the exact shape. Let them see whether the color is the same on all sides. If the eggs are newl)- laid the_\- will he nearly perfect spheres. L'rogs, salamanders and tree toads lay their eggs in the same ]ilaces and at aljoiit the same lime as the toad we are to study. /Vi,''. 112. J lid /hitc-Jn-cf / on tlie old egg string or on the edge of the dish (Fig. 112). The)" do this bv means of a peculiar v-sha])ed organ on their heads. How different the little creatures are, «hicli have just hatched, from the grown up toad which laid tlie eggs I The difference is about as great as that betu'een a caterpillar and a butterfiv. Tadpoles, polliwogs. — ^^'e call tlie young f)f tlie frog, the toad and the tree toad, tadpoles or [jolliwogs. The toad tad]ioles are black. As thev increase in size they mav become greyish. Those raised in tlie house are usually darker than those growing in nature. The tadpoles will Xwc iox some time in (dear water with appar- IQO IjKafi.f.t XVl enth' nothing to eat. This is because in each egg is some food, just as there is a kirge suppl)' of food within the egg shell to gi\'e the chicken a good start in life. But when the food that the mother supplied in the egg is used up, the little tadpoles would die if they could not find some food for theniseh'es. They must gro«" a a great deal before they can turn into toads ; and just like children and other young animals, to grow thev must have plenty of food. Fci-iliiis; tht tadpoles. — To feed the tadpoles it is necessary to imitate nature as closely as possible. To do this, a "\-isit to the pond where the eggs were found will gi\-e the clue. Many pjlants are present, and the bottom will be seen to slope gradually from the shore. The food of the tadpole is the minute plant life on the stones, the surface of the mud, or on the outside of the larger plants. (")nc must n'.'t attempt to raise too many tadpoles in the artificial pond in tlie laboratory or school-room or there will not be enough food, and all \\\\\ be half star\-ed, or some will get the food and the rest will star\-e to deatli. \^'hile there ma\- be tl^.ousands of tad- poles in the natural pond, it will be readib' seen tliat, compared with the amount of water present, tliere are realh' rather few. Probably many raore were liatched in tlie school-house than can be raised in the artificial jiond. Return tlie ones not put m the artificial pond to the natural p(Uid. It W(juld be too liad to throw tliem out on tlie ground to die. throw tliem out on tlie ground to die. Coiiipiiriiii:; t/h- groiof/i cf tlie tiiitpolcs. — JMen when one does his ])est it is hard to make an artillcial i)ond sn good as the natural one for the tadpoles, and the teaclier \\\\\ find it \ er\' interesting and stimulating to compare the growth and cliange in the tad- poles at the school-house with those in the natural jiond. As growth depends on tlie supply of fnod and the suitability of tlie en\uronment, it is eas\- tu judge lio\\- ncarh' tlie artificial pond eipials the natural jiond for raising tadpoles. It will be worth while to take a tadpole from the natural pond occasionally and put it in with those at the schonl-liouse, so that the differences may be more strikingly slifiwn. There is some danger in making a mis- take here, liowe\"er, for there may be three or four kinils of tadpoles in the natural pond. Those of the toad are almost jet black when young, while the others are more or less brownish. If one selects only the very black ones they will iirobably be toad tadpoles. Eyery week or oftener, some water plants, and perhaps a small stone ro\'ered \\\\\\ tlie growth of microscojiic plants, and some water, slu)uhl be lakeii from the [kukI to the artificial pond. The Life Hisiokv cif ihf. Toad. 19T water will supply the place of that which has evaporated, and the water plants will carry a new supply of food. If the water in the artificial pond in the school-room does not remain clear, it should be carefully dipped out and fresh clear water added. It is better to get the water from the pond where the eggs were laid, although any clear water \^•ill answer ; but do not use distilled water. The growth and changes in form should be looked for every day. Then it is very interesting to see what the tadpoles do, how they eat, and any signs of Ijreathing. All the changes from an egg to a little toad (Fig. iii), are passed through in one or two months, so that by the first of June the tadpoles will be found to have made great progress. The progress will be not only in size, but in form and action. One of these actions should be watched with especial care, for it means a great deal. At first the little tadpoles remain under water all the time, and do not seem to know or care that there is a great world abo\-e the water. But as they grow larger and larger, they rush up to the surface once in awhile and then di"\-e down again, as if their lives depended on it. The older the}- grow the oftener do they come to the surface. This is even more marked in the large tadpole of the bullfrog. What is the meaning of this ? Proljably most of the pupils can guess correctly ; but it took scientific men a long time to find out just whv this was done. The real reason is that the tadpole is getting ready to breathe the free air abo\'e the water when it turns into a toad and li\-es on the land. At first the little tadpoles breathe the air dissolved in the «'ater, just as a fish does. This makes it plain why an artificial pond should have a broad surface exposed to the air. If one should use a narrow and deep vessel, like a fruit jar, only a small amount of air could be taken uj) by the water and the tadpoles would be half suffocated. As the tadpoles grow older they go oftener to the surface to get the air directly from the limitless suppU- abo\'e the water, as they will have to do when they li\'e wholly in the air. Disappearance of the tail. — From the first to the middle of June the tadpoles should be watched with especial care, for wonderful things are happening. Both the fore and hind legs «'ill appear, if they have not already. The head will change in form and so will the body ; the color will become much lighter, and, but for the tail, the tadpole will begin to look something like its mother. If you keep an especialh' sharp lookout, do \u\\ think _\"f)\i will see the tail drop off? No, toad nature is to(.) eronoiniial lor that. 192 Lkaflet XVI. The tail will not drop off, but it will be seen to get shorter and shorter every day ; it is not dropping off, but is being carried into the tadpole. The tail is perfect at every stage ; it simply disap- ]iears. How does this happen ? This is another thing that it took scientific men a long time to find out. It is now known that there are two great methods for removing parts of the body no longer needed. In the first method the living particles in the body which are able to wander all around, as if thev were inspectors to see that everything is in order, may go to the part to be removed and take it up piece by piece. Fii^. 114. Transforming tadpole of the green tree load to sIio-,0 the rapidity of tail absorption . ( Change in 24 hours. Xatnral size.) in 'L.l — Xatural s/zr. C/uiiige in 24 li,'„rs : 2S unit. t\f tail abscybed in 24 lionrs ; / ]-t> on/!, f'cr Jiiuir. Coonnon toOii stior/ens t'le tall about /-T mill. /(■;- Jionr. These living jiartides are known as \\'hite blood corpuscles, wan- dering tells, phagocvtes, leucoc"\'tes and sexeral other names. In the other method, the blood and the lymjjh going to the part to be removed dissoh-e it particle bv particle. Apparently the toad tadpole's tail is dissolved by the blood and Ivmjih rather than lieing eaten up b\- tlie phagocytes, although the phagocvtes do a part of the work. Now, when the tailpi:)lc is ready to disjiense with its tail, the blood and l\'mph ami the phagocvtes take it up particle b^' par- ticle and carr\' il liack into the bi)d\- where it can be used just as. I, IFF, HiSIORV OF I'lllC TdAI). 193 any other good food would be. This uiking in of the tail is done so carefully that the skin epithelium or epidermis is never broken, Init covers up the outside ])erfectly all the time. Is not this a better way to gel rid of a tail than to cut it off ? If you look at the picture of the disappearance of the tail in the toad tadpole (Fig. 1 15) and in tlie tree-toad tadpole (Fig. i 14), you will get an idea how rapidh' this takes pla<:e. It is easier to see the actual shortening if the tadp(jles are jnit in a white ilish of clear water without any H'ater plants. The tadpoles do not eat anything \\-hile the)' are changing to toads, so they will not need to be fed. Btx////ii//i;' of the lifi oil tho laiiJ. — Xow, when the legs are grown out, and the tail is getting shorter, the little tadpole likes to put its n(.)se out of the water into the air ; and sometimes it crawls half way out. W'lien the tail gets ijuite short, often a mere stub, it will crawl out entireh- and stay for some time in the air. It now looks read}' like a toad e.\cept that it is nearlv smooth instead of being wartv, and is ijnl\- al)out as large as the end of a child's little finger ( Fig. 1 15 ). Finalh', the time comes wlien the tadpole, now transformed into a toad, must lea\e the water for the lam]. A\'hat i|ueer feelings the little toad must ha\'e when the soft, smo(jth botrom (jf the p(md and the ]irett)' plants, and the water that supjMjrtcd it so nicel\" are all to be left behind for the hard, r(.>ugh, dr\' land I liut the little toad must take the step. It is no hmger a tadpole, or half tadpole and half toad. It cannot again dive into the cckjI, soft water when the air ;iud the sunshine dr_\- and scor(d"i it. As countless generations of bttle toads ha\e done before, it [jushes boidh- out over the land and away from the water. If one \-isits the natural ))(md at aljout this season (last half of lunc, first of |ul_\), he is likel\" to see man}- (jf the little felhjws ho[)ping awa\' frcjm the u'ater. .\.nd so \'igorousl\- do the\' hop along that in a few da\'s the\- may be as far as a mile from the pond where the>- were hatihed. After a \\'arm shower they are piarticularh' acti\e, and are then most comnnud)' seen. Many think the\' raineil down. "The)' were n(jt seen before the rain, so they must lunc rained down." Is that g(jod reasoning? The little toad is careful and during the hot and sunny part of the da\- stax's in the shatle of the grass or lea\-es or in some other moist and shad)' place. If it staid out in the suir too long it would be liable to dry up. 13 ^w A .,^ 15 16 J^/'g'. I!j. Toad d<:vcIop))icii( in a siiii^Ic season {/(.yo^). r-fS. Changes and gyoz^'i/i , . !/•/■// to Xoz'ciidH->-. J-iJ- Dci-clopinoit in 2j to Oo days. /j~/S. DijTcreni sizes, October 2F, JQOJ. 9, 14. Different sizes, July 30, iqoj. lo.u. The same tadpoh\— i r . ^j hours older tha}i 10. 12, rj. riic same iadf._.■ j k,^ -food ci/c/iin- ,i glass dish with some moist sand on the -,,'iii:;e./ iiis,\-i, ami illus- l)ottoin. In a little while, if one is gentle, ti-,i/iii:;- ho: the toad will become tame, and then if flies and other insects are caught witli a swee}) net and put into the dish ami the top co\'ered with mosquito netting one can watch the jjrocess of capture. It is ver)- fjuicklv accomplished, and one must look shar[il\-. .\s .shown in the little picture (i'lg. ii6), the toad's tongue is fastened (Wii'Hi/rJ ajtil hrou^^hl ill t'Oll- /:!,-/ 7oi/!i /Iw ins,;-/. .SVvvr,;/ ,'l/u-r ,-l\;illll\s llhil III,- l,;ul III !'^ III L,il ,ir,- slio-,,'i! ill viiri- ,^ii^-/,n-ly ,' I I III- pulur,-. 196 Leah.)'.!' XA'L at the front part of its inoutli, not bacik in flit- throat as v;itli men, dogs, cats and most animals. It is S(_> nicely arranged that it can be extended for nuite a distance. On it is a sticlcy secretion, and ^^•hen, quidv as a flasli, the tongue is thrown out or extended, if it touches the insect, tlie insect is cauglit as if by sticky fly paper, and is taken into the mouth Think how many insects and worms a toad could destroy in a ■Ui! uht/air' a lucit I >'/\ui itU'U worm. single summer. I'racticalh- e\cry insect and worm destro)'ed adds to the produce of the garden and the farm, or takes awa)- one cause of discomfort to men and animals. ()ne observer reiiorls tliat a single toad ilisposed of twenty-ftnir caterpillars in ten minutes, and another ate thlrt^■-fl\■e celer)' \\'ornis within three hours. He estimates that a good-sized toad will destro)' nearh' 10,000 insects and worms in a siiinie summer. iis. yv,. ot.\ /,'liiic, on lailpol,': So o( th in ih what Exi'',.MiKS — The Sh,ai)()\v Side (jf Life. far nothing lias been said about the tr(.)ubles and dangers e toad's life, b'ig. 111 is meant to sho\N' the main phases e lile-history. 11 one looks at it i)erhaps he mav wonder becomes of all the t;idpoles that first hatch, as onl\- two T.ri'F, TTisiiiRV r,F Tin: Toad. 197 toads arc shown at the to}!. Is not t]iis somcthinLi; like tlie otlier life-histories? How many little mliins or chickens die and nexer become full-grown birds 1 ^\'ell, the dangers to the toad begin at once. Sii Impose the eggs are laid in a pond that dries up before the little toads ran get readv to li\ e on the land ; in that case they all die. 'i'he mother toads sometimes do make the mistake of la\-ing the eggs in ponds that drv up in a little while. Ycju will not let the artilicial pond at the school- house dr\- up, will \oa ? Then some- times there is an especialh' dr\- sum- mer, and onl\- those that transform \er\- earl\- frrmi tadpoles to toads are sa\-ed. In the little picture (Fig. ii'S) is shown another sriurce of danger and cause for the diniinution in numbers. The newts and salamanders find \'Oung tadpoles \erv good eating and the\' make wav with hundreds of them. Some die from what are called natural causes, that is, diseases, or jjossiblv they eat something that does not agree with them. So that while there were multi- tudes of eggs (1,000 or more from earh toad), and of just hatched tadpoles, the number has become sadly lessened bv the time the brood is ready to leave the water. Then when they set foot on land, their dangers are not passed. 'I'hev ma}- be jjarchecl by summer's heat or crushed under the feet of men or cattle. IJirds and snakes like them for food. Figs. J 19 and 120 show some of these dangers. Is it a wonder, then, that of all the multitudes of tarlpoles so few grow uji to lie large toads ? We ha"\'e so few helpers to keep the no.xious msecLs in check, it is not believed that any boy or girl who knows this wonderful story of a toad's life will join the crows, the snakes and the sala- manders in worrying or destroying their good friends. 19S Leaflet XA'I. MoUI.riXC AND Hn-IEKNATION. There are two xery interesting things that happen in the life of many of tlie lower animals; the\- happen to the toad also. These are moulting, or change of skin, and liibernation, or winter sleep. Every boy and girl onght to kno«- about these, and then, if on the lookout, some or all of the things will lie seen. J/oi/Iti/ii;-. — rrobal)])- e^-er\d)ody who li\-es in the eountrv has seen a snake's skin without an_\- snake in it. It is often verv pertect. Wdien the outside skin or cuticle of a snake or a toad gets old and dry or too tight for it, a new covering grows under- neath, and tlie old one is shed. This is a xarx interesting per- formance, but the toad usuall_\- sheds it in a retired jilace, so the process is not often seen. Those who have seen it say that a long (rack or tear ajipears along the liack and in front. The toad kee|js This is cspiiially tnti of tlu- ;^arlsr siiai\\ :u/lii/i is a i^ic-at ersiiiy of tlu- toad. Thi s peels the mo\'ing and wriggliny to loosen the old cuticle, cutii le off the sides. Xo«-, to get it r.ff the legs and feet, the toad puts its leg under its arm, or front leg, and in tliat wa\- pulls off the old skin as if it were a stot-king. ]!ut wdten the front legs are to be strip]ied the mouth is used as is sometimes done b\- people in pulling off their gloves. Do you think it uses its teeth for this purpose ? \'ou might look in a toad's mouth siniietime, anil then you woidd know. It is said that when the skin is finally pulled off the toad swal- lows It. 'I'his is true in some cases; at least it is worth wdiile kee[)ing watch for. It is certain that the toad sometimes swallows the cast skin , it is also certain that in some cases tlie cast skin is not swallowed, .\fter a toad has shed his old skin, he looks a great deal lirighter and cleaner than before, as if he hadi just got Life History of 'ihf. Toad. 199 a new suit of clothes. If )'ou see one \\'ith a particularly bright skin, you will now know what it means. Hibernation. — The toad is a cold-blooded animal. This means that the temperature of its blood is nearly like that of the sur- rounding air. Men, horses, cows, dogs, are said to be Avarm- blooded, for tlieir blood is ^^■arm and of about the some tempera- ture whether the surrounding air is cold or hot. When the air is too cool, the toad becomes stupid and inactive. In September or October a few toads may be seen on warm days or evenings, but the number seen becomes smaller and smaller ; and finally, as the cold November weather comes on, none are seen. ^^'here are they } The toad seems to know that \vinter is coming, that tlie insects and worms will disappear, so that no food can be found. It must go into a kind of death-lilvC sleep, in which it Fig. T2T. Toad in ilie imnti:i- sh-t'p. {XaturaJ size). hardly moves or breathes. This winter sleep or hibernation must be passed in some safe and protected place. If the toad were to freeze and thaw with every change in the weather it would not wake up in the spring. The wonderful foresight which instinct gives it, makes the toad select some cornparativel)' soft earth in a ^jrotected place where it can bury itself. The earth chosen is moist, but not wet. If it were dry the toad would dry up before spring. It is not uncom- mon for farmers and gardeners to plougli them up late in the fall or earl)' in the spring. Also in digging cellars at about these times they are found occasionally. In burying itself the toad digs \('itli its hind legs and body, and pushes itself Ijackward into the hole witli the front legs. The earth caves in as the animal backs into the ground, so that no sign 200 T.F,AFLF,r XYl is left on the outside. ()n(e in I'nr enougji to escape tlie freezing and tliawing of winter, tlie toad nio\'es around till there is a little chamber slightlv larger than its liod\' ; then it draws its legs up close, shuts its e\'es, ])Uts its head down between or on its hands, and goes to sleeji and sleeps for li\"e months or more. When the warm da\"s of spring ciuiie it wakes uj), crawls out of bed and begins to take interest in life again. It hjoks around for insects and worms, and a( ts as if it had had only a comfortable nap. The little toad that you saw hatcdi from an egg into a tadjjole and then turn to a toad, \\()uld hibernate for two or three wu'nters. /•/,, !/,■ /,',;, /.cw/v /■// ///, iX.i/tn- .■/:<■■). and b)' that time it would be ipiite a large toad. After it liad grown up and IkuI awakened from its winter slee}) some sjiring, it «'0uld have a strong impidse to get bai k to tlie pond M here it began life as an egg ^ears before. ( )uce there it would la\- a great numlier of eggs, perliaps as man\' as a thousand or two, for a new- generation of toads. .Vnd this would complete Us life cycle. While the toad completes its life c\'(de when it returns to the water and la\'s eggs for a new" generation, it may li\'e man\- years afterward and lay eggs many times, perhaps ever_\- year. Jaw. Hisi'orv ok 'i'hk Toad. Many insects, some fish and other animals, die after laying their eggs. For such animals the completion of the life cycle ends the life-history also. ISut unless the t(jad meets with some accident it goes back to its land home after la_\'ing the eggs, and may live in the same garden or dooryard for many years, as many as eight years, and [jerhaps longer. (.See Bulletin No. 46, Hatch Ex|)eri- ment Station ijf the .Massachusetts Agricultural College, Amherst, Mass.) lM