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Image from page 410 of “Outing” (1885)
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Identifier: outing58newy
Title: Outing
Year: 1885 (1880s)
Authors:
Subjects: Leisure Sports Travel
Publisher: [New York : Outing Pub. Co.]
Contributing Library: Tisch Library
Digitizing Sponsor: Boston Library Consortium Member Libraries
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e shy and wildanimals timid by the destroying tour-ist, but there is always life in the water,and a continuous panorama moves be-fore the eyes of the hunter as theysearch the depths before the canoe. Inthe crystal water from the great springs,in the clear streams from the Evergladesand the inflowing tides when the Gulfis quiet, objects many feet beneath thesurface are clearly defined. Fish, littleand big, brilliant in color and strangeof form, slow-moving and swift-darting,hold fast the attention of the sports-man. In the dark streams that flow fromthe Big Cypress or through mangroveswamps and the turbid tidal waterswhen the Gulf has been stirred by astorm, little can be seen beneath thesurface and the eye wanders afield,studying the spattering patch where aschool of Spanish mackerel are dining,the sprightly play of a family of por-poises in the distance, the swaying finsof a predatory shark, or glimpsing theup-bobbing head of otter and turtle orthe disappearing eye of the wary gator.
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THERE WAS A GOOD DEAL OF A MIX-UP AND WE WERE BUSY SWIMMING ASHOREWITH THE CANOE, PADDLES AND OTHER THINGS In the shallow water of Florida Baywhen the day is calm the hunter with aharpoon may float seemingly in airabove a garden of shells and sea-feath-ers, flowers of coral, and sponges ofstrange shapes. Sometimes there glides beneath thecraft a creature spotted like a leopardand beautiful as a butterfly, from oneto eight feet across the back. It iscalled a whip-ray, and the tail fromwhich it takes its name is many feetlong, smooth as ivory and slim as acoach whip. Attached to the base ofthe tail are half a dozen serrated dag-gers, a blow from which might not kill you, but would probably make youwish you were dead. You could hardlymiss the creature with your harpoon,and if you did strike and the barb ofyour little harpoon held in its tough hide,you would have a joyous ride till yourline parted. But you must hold yourhand and not waste your time whenyou are hunting tarpon. Those ugly t
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Image from page 191 of “Astray with song and fancy” (1916)
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Identifier: astraywithsongfa00terr
Title: Astray with song and fancy
Year: 1916 (1910s)
Authors: Terry, Edward Hicks Streeter
Subjects:
Publisher: Philadelphia : The Biddle Press
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: Sloan Foundation
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the twilight-dark— They sent a fragrant prayer; Your hyacinths so fair Did fill my little room With love and rich perfume. A flower you can be And with love, purity, Make all who meet you smile, For One who knew no guile Said long ago, In any righteous deed, If man should falter, lo! a child shall lead. 87 OH! LET ME BE YOUR FRIEND. (To J. W. K.) /~H! let me be your friend when you are gladThat I may share your smile and happiness,For I must be your friend when cares depressAnd take away the joy and youth you had.If eer you fall—you who have neer been bad—Stretch forth your hand, and I will give re-dress,Being but man, Ive sinned and known dis-tress ;Therefore I could not bear to see you sad. Friends you will have—what man has not hisfriends?Test them, and those of worth bind to yourheart,For sometimes lifes brief years seem longindeed.So many men will cheer you at the start;But when the night comes and the tired headbends,Though all should fail, Ill help you in yourneed. 88
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• 7 saw the slim sapling grow Till it stood a mighty tree. IMPRISONED. C7HEN the ocean was a rill, The mountain only a mound,I sprang to life with a bound,Urged on by a stronger will. I saw the slim sapling growTill it stood a mighty treeThat mockingly sheltered me, Who once could have laid it low. The rill whose course I had turned,Steadily grew to a streamThrough ages that seem a dream, And fierce anger in me burned. The mound I once might have sweptTo earth with my baby-hand,Gradually rose from the land, And my spirit moaned and wept. A continent holds me fast,And the ocean roars at me;I long for my liberty— O God, will this always last? 89 ON RECEIVING SOME WOODLANDFLOWERS. ^7HAT thanks are worthy of these wood-land-flowers ? I am not versed in such a gracious art,Yet if a friend brings gifts from Floras bowers, I write his name upon my grateful heart! 90 THE GOOD WIFES SONG. X7HEN morning comes you go from meTo face the citys crowded mart;I, with a lonely, restless heart
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Image from page 113 of “Little folks in feathers and fur, and others in neither” (1875)
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Identifier: littlefolksinfea00mill
Title: Little folks in feathers and fur, and others in neither
Year: 1875 (1870s)
Authors: [Miller, Harriet (Mann) Mrs.], 1831- [from old catalog]
Subjects: Zoology
Publisher: Hartford, Conn., Dustin, Gilman & co. Cincinnati, Ohio, Queen city publishing co. [etc., etc.]
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: The Library of Congress
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^such as men work with—of course, but a neatlittle bone pickaxe, just fitted to his size, and hard enough to boreholes into solid trees. Not that he injures solid trees, as peopleused to think he did; he much prefers a hollow tree, or onedead inside, for his nest. For his food—which he digs out with his pickaxe—he only goeswhere the worms alreadyare. To make the nest, theWoodpecker finds a hol-low tree, which he cantell by tapping on it.Then he cuts a passagefrom the outside, hollowsout the nest in the deadpart, makes a bed of wood-dust or moss, and thereshis house all ready for hisfamily. Another curiousthing about this littlqworker, besides his pick-axe, is his feet. His toes,instead of standing threeone way and one the other—like most birds—standin pairs, two each way.That is so that he canhold on very tightly. Hestands—as youve seenhim no doubt—on theside of the trunk, and hecan run around it as fast as any other bird can run forward. Soyou see, he needs a good grip.
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IN FEATHERS AXD FUR. Ill Youd hardly believe me if I said he had three legs, but hemight as well have another leg, as the useful little tail he has. Itis no straggling feathery affair, like a roosters, or a peacocks. Byno means ! It is short and stiff, and when he is at work he propshimself up with it, so that, as I said before, he might about as wellhave three legs. When he wants his dinner, he flies from tree to tree, tappingaway to find out if there are any little worms hidden away underthe bark, or in any crack or hole. If he finds a hole, he runs hislong slim tongue in, and as it is sticky at the end it brings outevery unfortunate worm it touches. If theyre too snugly hiddenunder the bark, the sharp little pickaxe chops off great pieces ofbark, till he lays open the hiding place, and thats the last everheard of the little worms. One summer I was visiting in a very pleasant country house,where the roof was low, and came down nearly to my window.Every morning, just at the time when
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