Woodside

  II.

  _LISTENING IN THE WOODS._

  "I hear the blackbird telling His love-tale to his mate;And the merry skylark swelling The choir at 'heaven's gate.'The cuckoo away in the thicket Is giving his two old notes;And the pet doves hung by the wicket Are talking with ruffled throats.The honey-bee hums as he lingers Where shadows on clover heads fall;And the wind with leaf-tipped fingers, Is playing in concert with all."

  ELIZA COOK.

  Now grandpapa's house, Woodside, stood on the side of a wood; in factthere was only a grassy road between the gates and the wood itself.

  Such a wood! with large old elms and oaks and other trees. In the moreopen spaces were trees and bushes of hawthorn, now completely coveredwith white blossom, the pretty May-bloom. There too grew primroses,violets, wild hyacinths, besides a long list of other wild flowers,ferns, and feathery green moss.

  One fine day grandmamma took the children herself across the road intothe wood. She sat down in one of the open spaces upon the trunk of afallen tree, while the children played at hide-and-seek among the bushesor picked the wild flowers.

  By-and-by they came back to grandmamma, who was reading while they wereplaying about, and said, "Grandmamma, will you tell us about papa whenhe was a little boy?"

  Grandmamma took off her spectacles, shut her book, and the children satdown quite close to her, on the grass at her feet.

  Then she began:--"When your father and your uncle and aunts, were aboutas old as you are now, they came with me into this very place one summerday.

  "After they had played awhile they came to me, and I said to them,'Children, what do you hear?'

  "'Hear, mother?' they said; 'why, nothing in particular. What _is_ thereto hear?'

  "'Well,' I said, 'now all of you shut your eyes and listen, and don'tspeak till I tell you.'

  "After a short time I told them to open their eyes; and I asked John,who was the eldest, what he had heard.

  "'First of all I heard the birds singing, then I noticed that there weredifferent sorts of birds singing: I heard the blackbird, the thrush, thelittle finches, and the warblers--I could not tell you how many; some ofthem singing as if they could not make sound enough, and others sung alow song, with twitterings and chatterings all to themselves. Someseemed calling to birds a long way off; then I heard those other birdsanswer, but the sound was so faint that I should not have heard it atall if we had not been so still. I was trying to catch a faint sound ofa bird some distance down the wood, which sounded like the coo of thewood-pigeon, when you said, "Open your eyes."'

  "Then I turned to Harry--your father, children--and he said, 'Of courseI heard the birds, but I thought, I can hear them any day; I shalllisten for all sorts of odd sounds. I heard the distant rumble of afarmer's waggon, and the cows lowing at Brown's farm; every now andagain I heard the sound of the village blacksmith's hammer, the faintpuffing of a train, a man's footsteps coming through the wood, and thevoices of boys--after birds' nests, I suppose.'

  "'Well, Lizzie, what did you hear?' I asked, turning to one of thegirls.

  "'I heard the wind moving very gently among the trees, making a softrustling noise. I could scarcely believe in the difference there isbetween this quiet sound and the roaring of the wind in a storm. Then Iheard the wild bee's hum, and the little tiny noises made by the smallcreatures that live in the wood. I heard our gardener sharpening hisscythe, and the trickling of the brook in the hollow.'

  "'Now, little Fanny, tell us what you heard.'

  "'I heard the hens cackling and calling to their chickens. I thought Iheard our dog bark; but all was so warm, and still, and sleepy, that Ifelt as if I should go to sleep too if I kept my eyes shut much longer.I heard the birds though, and a great bumble-bee that flew by when oureyes were shut.'

  "'Now, children,' I said, 'you have all heard something, and yet alittle while ago you told me there was nothing particular to hear; noris there, if you hear without listening.'"

  Here grandmamma stopped awhile, then, looking at the grandchildren ather feet, said there was a poet once who wrote about a little girlcalled Lucy. She lived among all the beautiful things that are to beseen in the country, and she loved them dearly. The poet thought how, asshe grew up, she would be yet more and more charmed by them, and thatloving all grand and beautiful natural objects would make her charming.Among other things he said,--

  "She shall lean her ear In many a secret place,And beauty born of murmuring sound Shall pass into her face."

  "How can sound show itself in a face, grandmamma?" asked Jack.

  "Supposing you heard a loud, sudden scream, you would be startled andfrightened by the cry; if you heard a tremendous clap of thunder, youmight look a little frightened too, but you would also look solemn andstill as you heard the grand sound; but you would have quite anotherlook if you were lying on your back under a shady tree some calm summerevening, listening to the low song of the birds, and to the many soundsthat are almost silence."

  "Cuckoo! cuckoo!"

  "O grandmamma, there's the cuckoo!" cried all the children at once.

  "Yes; there are a great many cuckoos about here. They say it is only themale bird that calls 'Cuckoo,' that the female simply makes a chatteringsound."

  "Did you ever see a cuckoo, grandma?"

  "No, never a live bird, only one stuffed. I will tell you a story of howI heard one once. It was about five-and-twenty years ago. I wanted someprimroses for a nosegay. I used to pick the long feathery moss thatgrows in these woods and put the primroses among it. I ran across theroad outside of our gates--for I could run in those days--and soonfilled my basket with as many primroses as I wanted. As I was standingunder a large tree, I heard all at once, exactly over my head, a loud,gruff cry of 'Cuckoo.' I was so startled, the cry was so near, that Ithought it must be a rude man, and I dropped all my primroses and ranback to the gates.

  "Then I thought, 'How foolish of me to be frightened; it is the 18th ofApril, the right time for the cuckoo to come back to England from thewarm country where he has been all the winter,--of course it is a realcuckoo.' So I went back and picked up my primroses, but I heard no moreof that cuckoo.

  "I told my children when I came indoors about my adventure; and how theydid laugh at their mother for being frightened at a bird.

  "I shall always think, though, that that particular cuckoo must havecaught a bad cold on his long journey to England, or soon after hisarrival, for his voice sounded as if he had a sore throat."

  "Now children," said grandmamma, rising from her seat, "it is time wewalked homewards."

  As they came near to the house they saw Smut sitting on the door-step,waiting patiently to be let in at the front door.

  Within a short distance of the house was a brook, almost hidden inplaces by overhanging bushes and long reedy grass. Then it flowed intomore open ground; but it was very quiet in its flow, for the bed wassoft and not stony.

  Of course the next day the children set off for this brook, to listen toits "murmuring sound." Jack lay down upon the ground and leaned hishead over the brook, thinking he could hear better in that fashion. Marysaid she should sit down by a bend in the stream and be comfortable, forshe was sure she could not listen well if she were afraid of rollinginto the water; while little Annie sat by her sister's side, holding herhand and shutting her eyes.

  If you had seen those children then, you would have wondered what theywere doing, they were so serious and intent; but by the quiet look upontheir faces they seemed to enjoy the music of the softly-flowing stream.So low was the sound, that you would hardly have noticed it if you hadnot been thinking about it.

  Often during this visit they would have games at "harking," as theycalled it; for they said, "We may as well hear as much as we can, as ourfather and uncle and aunts did when they were children." They would shuttheir eyes for some minutes, and then they would tell each other whatthey had heard. I can tell you their ears grew very sharp with all thispractice; for, like other children, they had th
eir quiet moods, whenunder the lofty forest trees or in the garden nooks they would listen,not for fun but for enjoyment.