4 as they are satisfied on this point, they proceed to lay out the plan of their projected3 encampment, which task they commence by tracing a well-defined parallelogram, of sufficient magnitude to accommodate the whole fraternity, and often containing several acres. 3. One side of this encampment runs parallel with the water's edge, and is always left open; the other three sides are differently arranged. These industrious feathered laborers next proceed to clear all the ground within the limits from obstructions of every kind, picking up the stones in their bills, and carefully depositing them outside of the lines, until they sometimes, by this means, create quite a wall on three sides of the rookery. 4. Within this range of stones and rubbish they form a pathway six or eight feet in width, and as smooth as any of the paved or graveled walks in the New York Park or on the Battery. This path is for a general promenade by day, and for the sentinel to patrol by night. 5. Having thus finished their little works of defense on the three land sides, they next lay out the whole encampment in little squares of equal size, forming narrow paths, which cross each other at right angles, and which are also very smooth. At each intersection" of these paths an albatross constructs her nest, while in the centre of each little square is a penguin's nest; so that each albatross is surrounded by four penguins, and each penguin has an albatross for its neighbor in four directions. 6. In this regular manner is the whole space occupied by these feathered sojourners of different species-leaving, at convenient distances, accommodations for some other kinds of oceanic birds, such as the shag, or the green cormorant, and another which the seamen call Nelly. Although the penguin and the albatross are on such intimate terms, and appear to be so affectionately and sincerely attached to each other, they not only form their nests in a very different manner, but the penguin will even rob her friend's nest whenever she has an opportunity. 7. The penguin's nest is merely a slight excavation in the earth, just deep enough to prevent her single egg from roll H ing away; while the albatross throws up a little mound of earth, grass, and shells, eight or ten inches high, and about the size of a water-bucket, on the summit of which she forms her nest, and thus looks down upon her nearest neighbors and best friends. 8. None of the nests of these rookeries are ever left unoccupied for a single moment until the eggs are hatched and the young ones old enough to take care of themselves, for the females are so ambitious of producing a large family, that they rob each other whenever they have an opportunity. 9. The royal penguin is commonly foremost in felonies9 of this description, and never neglects an opportunity of robbing her neighbor. Indeed, it often happens that, when the period of incubation is terminated, the young brood will consist of three or four different kinds of birds in one nest. This is strong circumstantial evidence that the parent bird is no more honest than her neighbors. 10. To stand at a distance, and observe the birds in these rookeries, is not only amusing, but edifying10 and affecting The spectacle is truly worthy the contemplation11 of a philo sophic mind. You will see them marching round the encampment in the outside path, or public promenade, in pairs, or in parties of four, six, or eight, forcibly reminding you of officers and soldiers on a parade-day. At the same time, the camp or rookery is in continual motion, some penguins passing through the different paths or alleys on their return from an aquatic excursion, eager to caress their mates after a temporary absence, while the latter are passing out, in their turn, in quest of refreshment and recreation. 11. At the same time the air is almost darkened with an immense number of the albatrosses hovering over the rookery like a dense cloud, some continually lighting and meeting their companions, while others are constantly rising and shaping their course toward the sea. 1 O-CE-AN'-I¤ (0-she-an'-ik), pertaining to the ocean, or great sea. 2 EN-CUM-BERED, filled up; obstructed. 3 PRO-JECT'-ED, devised; determined upon. 5 PROM-E-NADE', a place for walking. 6 PA-TROL', to march about, and observe 7 IN-TER-SEC'-TION, crossing. 9 FEL-O-NIES, thefts; stealing. 10 ED'-I-FY-ING, instructive. 11 CON-TEM-PLA'-TION, meditation; study. PART III. FIRST DIVISION OF VEGETABLE PHYSIOLOGY, OR BOTANY.* (THIS SUBJECT IS CONTINUED IN THE FIFTH READER.) 1. THE first notice we have of that part of the world around us which bears the name of the vegetable kingdom, is in the first chapter of the Bible, where we are told that on the third day of the creation God said, "Let the earth bring forth grass, the herb yielding seed, and the fruit-tree yielding fruit after his kind, whose seed is in itself upon the earth." *The science of BOTANY, so called from the Greek word botane (Boravn), a plant, has been divided by botanists into three parts: 1st. ORGANOGRAPHY, which treats of the structure or anatomy of plants; 2d. VEGETABLE PHYSIOLOGY, which treats of the functions of their several parts-the way a plant lives and grows, etc.; and, 3d. DESCRIPTIVE BOTANY, which treats of the classification of plants, their geographical distribution, and the general characteristics of the most important vegetable productions. 2. At the command of the Almighty the mysteries of vegetable life began to start into being; shrubs and flowers adorned the fields, lofty trees waved in the forests, and herbs and grasses covered the ground with verdure. It was only after the earth had thus been robed in beauty that it brought forth abundantly "cattle and creeping things," and "every living creature after its kind." Thus vegetables rank first in order in the scale of creation. Being designed for the support of animal life, they are universally diffused over our globe— throughout the extremes of heat and cold—even in the waters of the sea as well as on the land. 3. Wherever the eye is directed it encounters an infinite multitude of the most dissimilar forms of vegetation. Some are cast ashore by the waters of the sea in the shape of leathery straps or thongs, or are collected in ocean meadows of vast extent; others crawl out of the crevices of dank3 and loathsome mines, where the light of day never penetrates; in rivers and tranquil waters are found living threads of green; mud throws up its jelly-like scum; filthy dregs of all kinds bring forth their living brood of microscopic1 plants; corn crops change to fetid soot; rust and mildew blight our grains; and all matter in decay is seen to teems with mouldy life. All these forms belong to the lower orders of the vegetable world. 4. If we rise higher in the scale, this never-ending diversity opens a world of beauty. to our view. The bark of ancient trees is covered with velvet; their branches are hung with a gray-beard tapestry; and grandeur and gloom overspread the forest world. The scene changes in the more open landscape. There heaths and moors wave with a tough and wiry herbage; meadows are clothed with an emerald mantle, amid which spring up flowers of all hues and forms; bushes throw abroad their many-fashioned foliage, and twining vines scramble over and choke them. 5. The individual forms of vegetation also change at every step. With every altered condition and circumstance new plants start up. The mountain side has its own races of vegetable inhabitants, and the valleys have theirs; the tribes of the sand, the granite, and the limestone are all different; and the sun does not shine upon two degrees on the surface of this globe, the vegetation of which is identical, for every latitude has a flora10 of its own. In short, the forms of seas, lakes, and rivers, islands and peninsulas, hills, valleys, plains, and mountains, are not so infinitely diversified11 as the vegetation which adorns them. 6. In all ages of the world, flowers, the crowning glory of plants, have been especially regarded as things of beauty, and emblems of innocence and virtue. Many of the finest poetical images in all languages are drawn from them. Our Lord alludes to the "lilies of the field," to convince his people of God's care for them. He says, "Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they toil not, neither do they spin; and yet I say unto you that Solomon, in all his glory, was not arrayed like one of these. Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the field, which to-day is, and to-morrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith ?" 7. That eminent American botanist, Professor Gray, in quoting this passage, remarks, "When Christ himself directs us to consider with attention the plants around us—to notice how they grow-how varied, how numerous, and how elegant they are, and with what exquisite skill they are fashioned and adorned, we shall surely find it profitable and pleasant to learn the lessons which they teach." Thou wert not, Solomon! in all thy glory, "Whate'er man finds Of flavor or of scent in fruit or flower, Or what he views of beautiful or grand In nature, from the broad majestic oak To the green blade that twinkles in the sun, Prompts13 with remembrance of a present God."-CowPER. 1 VERD'-URE, greenness; vegetation. 2 DIF-FUSED', spread abroad. 3 DANK, damp; moist. 4 MI-CRO-SCŎP'-Ie, very small. 5 FET-ID, rank; offensive to the smell. 6 TEEM, abound. 7 TAP'-ES-TRY, woven hangings for walls. 8 EM'-E-RALD, bright green. 9 I-DEN'-TI-CAL, the same; not different. 11 DI-VER-SI-FIED, varied. 12 TRAN'-SI-TO-RY, passing away quickly. 13 PROMPTS, suggests; reminds. |