Woodside
VIII.
_A TALK WITH AUNT LIZZIE._
"I can show you the spot where the hyacinth wild Hangs out her bell blossoms of blue,And tell where the celandine's bright-eyed child Fills her chalice with honey-dew,--The purple-dyed violet, the hawthorn and sloe, The creepers that trail in the lane,The dragon, the daisy, and clover-rose, too, And buttercups gilding the plain."
EDWARD CAPERN.
After the boys had started for Charley Foster's, the little girls wentupstairs into what was once the nursery, where Tom and Katey kept alltheir toys and books and learned their lessons; in fact it was still thechildren's room.
Katey showed her cousins her various belongings, and said, "I'm afraid Ihave not anything so pretty to show you as Tom's birds' eggs. I thoughtI would make a collection of wild flowers and leaves, and press themand fasten them on to paper. So I began with the leaves of the foresttrees, and here they are."
The children looked through the sheets, on which were pressed the leavesof the oak, the elm, the birch, the willow, and many others besides, allso different in shape.
"The _leaves_ are very well," said Katey, "but not the _flowers_. I soonleft off pressing them, for the poor flowers looked so wretched, sounlike the living ones, that I did not care to go on."
"I have felt just the same about some of the things in the museums inLondon," said Mary. "They may interest grown-up people, but not us. Theyare so dried and withered, that they don't give you much of an idea ofwhat they were in life. Who would ever guess what a man was like byseeing a mummy? and some of the things are no better than mummies."
"I am very fond of flowers," said Katey: "they look lovely in their ownplaces where they grow, but just like mummies, as you say, dried up andstuck upon paper."
"I'll tell you what: we are going to have tea on the lawn, and after teawe'll ask mother to show us some sketches she has made of wild flowers.Now they do give you a real notion of the flowers themselves."
Katey went to the window, and said, "Oh! there is Sarah bringing out thetable for tea already. Let us go downstairs into the garden."
So they all went down to watch Sarah lay the cloth, and put the breadand butter and cake on the table, then the milk and sugar, and last ofall she brought the teapot.
"Here comes Aunt Lizzie," said Annie; and all the children joined in therequest that when tea was over she would show them her paintings offlowers.
"To be sure I will," she said; "and we will look at them out of doors assoon as the tea-table is cleared."
"I _do_ like having tea out of doors," said Annie; "we can never haveit in London, however hot it is."
THE TEA ON THE LAWN._Page 82._]
"We cannot have it for very long in the country either," said AuntLizzie, "because our weather is so changeable. Sometimes we have coldwinds with bright sunshine, or it rains, or the grass is damp. Still,during the long summer days we can frequently manage it; but it is notalways summer even in the country."
"Do the woods seem very dreary to you in the winter, aunt?"
"No; I have known and loved them all my life, and they have a verydifferent look in winter from what they have in summer."
"But they look so bare when the leaves are gone," said Annie.
"Yes; but you can see the shapes of the trunks and branches, down to thelittle twigs. You can tell the name of the tree from its skeleton, foreach has its own form--the sturdy oak, the stiff poplar, the droopingwillow, and the elegant silver birch. You should see them after a fallof snow. Each tree bears the weight of snow after a differentfashion--like itself.
"In fact the woods during a bright hard frost are as good as Fairyland.The brown dead oak leaves lying on the ground are fringed all round theedges with what looks like small diamonds sparkling in the sun. Thefrost takes every blade of grass, every twig and straw, and covers themwith glittering crystal, and the whole air is clear and bright."
"We have some very beautiful days in winter," said Katey.
"Yes," said her mother; "calm, still, cloudless days--like midsummer,only of course colder. Not very often, it is true, but occasionally.
"I was walking on one such day till I came to what had been the privateroad leading to a gentleman's house. The house itself was old anduninhabited, and the way to it was open. I walked along, and the treeson either side of it were bare, sparkling with frost and looking likeother trees outside. Presently I came to a bend in the road, and sawthat on both sides the space was planted with evergreen shrubs andtrees, and some of the trees were very tall. There were evergreen oaks,and pines, and firs, and plenty of the large-leaved ivy. It seemed as ifI had walked from midwinter into midsummer. The bright sun was shining,the air was still, the sky a cloudless blue, and all the trees weregreen! I stood still to enjoy the sight, then I walked on for a veryshort way, when another sharp turn of the road brought me back to thewintry landscape of bare trees and more open country. That sight can beseen any winter now."
"I thought the country was dull in winter," said Mary.
"We have dull days, rainy days, and dark days; but then, although Natureis so quiet, she is still alive, and there are always changes going on.
"I knew a gentleman, who is dead now, but he lived to be very old. For avery great many years he always took one walk, at a certain hour everySunday morning, all the year through. It was a very ordinary countrywalk--through the little town, up by the side of a fir plantation, alonghedge-rows and scattered houses, over a stile into a long ploughed fieldgenerally planted with turnips for cattle, then over another stile,through winding lanes that led to farm-houses and at last came out intothe public road.
"It interested him to watch the changes week after week--the firstappearing of buds in the spring time, their growth during the week, thenthe bursting of the leaves. Then there was the white blossom of theblack-thorn, which comes before the leaves; then that of the white-thornor 'May;' the silvery blossom of the willow tree; and the yellow catkinsof the hazel, called by country children 'lamb-tails.' Then came thewild flowers of very early spring, till, as the weeks went on, theirbloom was over with summer and autumn. Now the hedges were red with hipsand haws. At last the leaves fell, and winter came once more.
"Besides all these changes there were the birds to notice--when theyfirst came back to England after their winter absence, when the cuckoowas first heard, and many other things as well.
"You may take the same walk fifty-two times a year, year after year, ashe did, and yet no two walks will be alike.
"Now Sarah shall clear the table and I will fetch my portfolio ofsketches."
When Aunt Lizzie returned she said, "These are all wild flowershere.--You know that one?"
"Why, yes, it is a primrose. We should know what a primrose was likebetter by this than by the dried ones. Why, aunt! you have painted awhole lot of them growing just as they do grow."
"Yes; I like, if I can, to paint the flowers in their natural places,besides taking a single flower and painting it the size of life. Lookat that wild rose-bush mixed with bramble in that piece of hedge;underneath it I have painted a small spray of roses and buds."
"What is that pretty little flower?" asked Annie; "I don't remember everhaving seen one like it."
"It is the wood-sorrel; a very lovely little thing it is too. It iscommon in woods and shady places; but the flowers are almost over now."
"We have some roots of it in the shrubbery, and I saw one flower inbloom there this morning," said Katey.
"Well, you may all go and look at it, if you like." So the childrenscampered away to look at the small pale, drooping flower.
"What pretty leaves it has!" said Mary. "I have brought one with me; itlooks like a cluster of leaves in one."
"Yes; the bright, transparent leaves and stems are very delicate. Theseleaves will frequently fold up, if knocked, like the leaves of asensitive plant. You can look for a plant in the woods and try it. Theleaves, too, have a very acid taste."
"I see a violet root. I like violets because of t
heir sweet smell," saidAnnie.
"I like what are called dog-violets too," said her aunt. "They have nosmell at all, but they grow all the summer through, in hedges and ingrass, in such large quantities that the turf often looks like anembroidered carpet.
"The flower is very similar to the scented violet, only it is of a palegrayish blue. I have painted two roots side by side, one of the scented,one of the dog-violet; also a specimen of the white violet, which is notso common as that of the dark kind, but its smell is quite asdelicious."
The children were delighted to recognize, among others, sketches ofdaisies, cowslips, buttercups, wood-anemones, wild hyacinths,forget-me-nots, eyebright, red and white clover, and many kinds offlowering grasses and graceful fern leaves.
"What is that?" they said, as they saw something that looked curious butnot pretty.
"That is one of the sketches I took in Cornwall two or three miles fromthe Land's End. It is a poor, unhappy furze-bush, covered with dodder.The dodder is what is called a parasitical plant; that is, a plant thatlives entirely on another. There are several kinds of dodders: some liveentirely on flax, some on nettles, but those that stick to clover andfurze-bushes are the most common in this country.
"When the seed of a dodder dropped into the ground begins to grow, itfeels about for the kind of plant it wants to live upon: if it cannotfind it, it dies.
"This furze dodder, you see, has found what it wanted, and, having doneso, began at once to coil its pink thread-like stem on that of thefurze. Now it had gained its footing, and threw out a great many morefine stems in all directions, after the fashion of strawberry runners,rooting as it grew. There are thousands of little dodder plants suckingthe life out of the furze. I have seen many of the bushes quitesmothered, and even killed, by this unpleasant and greedy plant.
"When you are older, if you study the ways of plants, you will find themquite as interesting as those of animals. They have to get their living;and some, like the dodder, prefer to get it at the expense of another;and others resort to all kinds of plans to keep themselves and theirkinds alive.
"The acid of the pretty wood-sorrel is a poison, so nothing will eat it;and the buttercups growing in meadows are untouched by cattle, becauseof the poison in their leaves and stems.
"I might tell you of many other plants that live in safety because theyare defended by poison, or thorns, or prickles, or some peculiar shape.The leaves of the common holly are only prickly on the lower branches,where it needs protection from browsing cattle.
"Then there are wonderful contrivances for keeping not only the singleplant but its kind alive, which you will learn one day.
"There are plants which bear seeds in very great numbers, like thefield-poppy, so that some of them are sure to survive. The winds carryother seeds to great distances, because they have beautiful featherydown attached to them, which causes them to be easily blown about--suchas thistle and dandelion seeds.
"Birds, too, are great seed-sowers: they eat the wild fruits whichcontain the seed. These fruits are generally red or black, so as toattract birds to them. Among the red ones are hips, the fruit of thewild rose; and haws, which contain the seed of the white-thorn. Amongthe black are blackberries, the fruit of the bramble; and sloes, whichare like a very small hard plum. The birds eat these, and drop the seedwhich is inside of the fruit on to the ground."
Then Sarah came into the room to say that Jane had come from Woodside totake the children back.
"We must wait for Jack," said Mary.
"Yes," said Aunt Lizzie. "I daresay the boys will be home directly. Why,here they are.--How hot you look, Jack!"
"It is so warm to night, aunt, and we have walked fast. We've had asplendid time of it at Charley Foster's, and we stayed till the lastminute, so we hurried home at last." Where-upon Jack drew out hispocket-handkerchief to wipe his hot face, forgetting all about thelittle frogs. The loose knot slipped, and you may guess what happened.The frogs, delighted to get out of Jack's warm pocket, were soon hoppingabout the room.
"What have you there, Jack? what does this mean?" asked Aunt Lizzie. Butshe could not help laughing, for she knew what odd things boys will do.
Jack explained to her how he had caught the young frogs to put into theWoodside pond, that he might watch them there.
"Well, you must catch them again," said his aunt, "and I will give you apaper bag to carry them in, only you need not suppose that there are nofrogs in grandpapa's pond. Charley's pond is large and shaded, while theWoodside pond is small and open; and the weather has been very drylately, so the frogs have kept in the soft mud at the bottom. You willsee plenty of young frogs after the next shower of rain hopping aboutthe edges of that pond."