Friends and Helpers Part 13

"I'll remember that, when I have my farm," said Robert, with ready sympathy. "I'll have my sheep keep their coats on, just as I wear my reefer, until it is warm."

THE AIR-GUN

On the way home from the sheep-pasture, Mr. Spencer saw a boy by the side of the road with an air-gun in his hands.

"There is Frank Weston shooting birds," he said, stopping his horse.

"What are you shooting, Frank?"

"English sparrows, Mr. Spencer," said the boy, coming forward. "My father said I might shoot all I could find. There's one, now."

"You are mistaken," said Mr. Spencer quietly. "That is a song sparrow and a native of our fields."

"Oh, yes, so it is!" said the boy carelessly. "But there are plenty of English sparrows. I shot five yesterday. They do ever so much harm, Mr.

Spencer."

"They certainly do some good, also," said the farmer. "They eat cankerworms and other harmful insects. They are said to devour that troublesome pest, the tree caterpillar, which no other bird will touch."

Frank looked thoughtful for a minute. Then he said: "A boy wants to have some fun with his gun."

"It seems to me," said the farmer, "that it would be more fun to shoot at a mark than to give pain to some living creature. But a gun is a poor toy, at the best, Frank. Ask your father for a good pair of opera- gla.s.ses, and study the birds instead of killing them. We know very little yet about any of them. See if you can't bring me a bit of news about some of our feathered neighbors before the summer is over. I'm a real bird-gossip, you know, and I'm always anxious to hear of what is going on in their homes."

"All right, sir," said Frank, smiling into his friend's kindly eyes.

"I'm afraid it will be hard work to find out anything that you don't know already, but I'll try."

Mr. Spencer drove on for a few minutes in silence.

"I never could understand why boys are always trying to hit something,"

he said at last. "When they haven't an air-gun, they throw stones and s...o...b..a.l.l.s. I could tell you of some serious accidents from stone- throwing. A little friend of mine was killed by falling from a horse which had been frightened by a s...o...b..ll. It is disgraceful that there should be no strict laws to forbid that kind of play."

Robert's cheeks and ears were beginning to burn.

"Father won't give me an air-gun," he said, presently. "He says it will make me hard-hearted to kill anything--even English sparrows. But I thought all boys threw s...o...b..a.l.l.s."

"Perhaps they do," said Mr. Spencer. "I wish they could know some of the risks they run and the pain they give. I have seen little girls come home from school, crying and hurt, and I knew they had been s...o...b..lled."

"They were pretty mean boys who did that," began Robert. "We don't throw s...o...b..a.l.l.s at girls."

"Tired old men and hard-working horses and other busy workers are not much better targets," said Mr. Spencer, and again Robert's cheeks flamed. "Perhaps, however, your s...o...b..a.l.l.s always go just where you intend to have them. That makes it safer, of course."

The farmer's tone was so polite that Robert looked up suspiciously.

There was a twinkle in the kind, gray eyes.

"Now, Robert," said Mr. Spencer, good-humoredly, "you have heard me preach a good many sermons since you came. Let me tell you just one thing to remember. Don't do anything, to any living creature, which you wouldn't enjoy if you were in its place."

"Why, that's the Golden Rule," said Robert.

"I know it," said the farmer, as he drove into the clean, pleasant yard, "but I never heard that the Golden Rule wouldn't work wherever it was tried."

APRIL SONG.

Now willows have their p.u.s.s.ies, Now ferns in meadow lands Hold little downy leaflets, Like clinging baby hands.

Like rosy baby fingers Show oak-leaves 'gainst the blue; The little ones of nature Are ev'rywhere in view.

There's purring in a sunbeam Where Tabby's babies play.

The hen is softly brooding, Her chickens came to-day.

Up in the crimson maple The mother robin sings; The world is full of caring For little helpless things.

MARY E. WILKINS.

From "Songs of Happy Life," by permission of publishers.

EARTHWORMS AND SNAKES.

The little earthworm, crawling across the garden path or burrowing its way into the loose soil, seems very common and insignificant, but it is a most useful servant to man.

Without the earthworms it would be difficult for us to live. It is by their help that gra.s.s grows for the cattle, and the garden yields food for our own use.

Long before any one thought of making a plough, the hard lumps of earth were broken up by the slender bodies of the earthworms. These worms have no eyes or feelers or feet, but they have, on each ring of their bodies, four pairs of bristles, which aid them in making their way through the earth.

Air is let into the soil through the holes that the worms make, and the moisture is drained away. Thus the roots of the plants are kept in good condition.

Worms are useful in another way. They can make poor soil into rich mould. This they do by swallowing earth and dried leaves.

After pa.s.sing through the body of the worm, the earth is cast up in little heaps, which are soon scattered by the wind and rain. Hundreds of these "casts" may be seen in any large garden, and thus the whole surface is constantly changing.

In this way fields which were unfit for crops of any kind are made ready for the farmer's use. In some places it has been found that ten tons of dry earth on every acre are made into good soil each year by the worms.

No gardener can prepare fine mould for plants so well as the worms can do it, and no farmer can so carefully make ready his fields.

There are some creatures which are commonly disliked and avoided because they are not attractive to look at. Often this is a mere prejudice against them, and careful study reveals a beauty not noticed before.

There is a very general and absurd feeling against snakes which is the cause of much unnecessary suffering. This fear is so common that for many children and grown people a walk in the woods and fields loses half its pleasure.

Most of our common snakes are harmless and are useful in destroying insects. Instead of shuddering with horror at the little green snake, watch him as carefully as you can. Soon you will begin to wonder how he can go so fast, what he eats, and where he makes his home. You will find that he is not at all like the earthworm. He belongs to a very different cla.s.s of animals, but he is as innocent as the worm of any wish to do you harm. He prefers to be left to himself in the long gra.s.s, but you may be sure if he should glide over your feet, or across your hand, he would not hurt you at all.

HUMANITY.