Chatterbox, 1906 Part 31

The Dutch were fond of making figures out of trees, and so were the Italians. At Savona, a traveller tells us that he saw a group representing the flight of Joseph into Egypt, formed of variegated holly, box, myrtle, laurel, and cypress. The poet Pope alluded to the Duke who owned the splendid estate of Canons, as a n.o.bleman who had

'Trees cut to statues, statues thick as trees,'

and he remarks that he was shown, in greenery, Adam, Eve, and the serpent, but the figures were damaged somewhat. All such figures need attention to keep them in order. There are many about England that are of good age, and may last some years yet; though, of course, these trees may be injured by wind or heavy rain. Shrubs and trees are formed into curious shapes by the help of wires, and much tr.i.m.m.i.n.g or twisting of the shoots is needed at first. A young tree, therefore, representing a peac.o.c.k, or some other bird, will cost four or five pounds, and specimens that are larger may be worth many times that amount. Figures of men, horses, bears, dogs, and various animals, including dragons, are to be seen, as well as letters of the alphabet, triangles, or other inanimate objects, some trees being cleverly made to look like jugs, bottles, and bowls. Occasionally, a singular change has been made in a tree; thus, what was a boy with a rake, by a little alteration becomes a soldier carrying a rifle.

When taking a country stroll, we may sometimes come upon a specimen of a tree-sculptor's art in a wayside cottage garden, perhaps two hundred years old. One of the finest topiaries in England is in the grounds of Levens Hall, Westmoreland, and the Earl of Harrington has a notable one at Elvaston Castle, Derbys.h.i.+re.

A GENEROUS ACT.

The sons of a great landowner were permitted by their father to a.s.sociate with the poor boys in the neighbourhood. One day, when they had to return home to dinner, a lad who was playing with them said he would wait till they returned.

'There is no dinner for me at home,' said the poor boy.

'Come with us, then,' said the others.

The boy refused, and when they asked him if he had any money to buy a dinner, he answered 'No.'

When the boys got home the eldest of them said to his father, 'Father, what was the price of the silver buckles you gave me yesterday?'

'Five s.h.i.+llings,' was the reply.

'Then please give me the money, and I will give you the buckles again.'

This was done accordingly, and the father, inquiring privately, found that the money was given to the lad who had no dinner.

PEEPS INTO NATURE'S NURSERIES.

IV.--THE LIFE HISTORY OF THE CRAB.

The more we study the living creatures around us the more wonderful they become; and in many ways this is especially true of what we may call the little people of the lower world. Most of us regard the crab as a creature good to eat, or, in the case of some of the smaller kinds, as something to be hunted for in rock-pools at the seaside; but only a very few appear to know anything of the crab in its infancy.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Fig. 1.--Young Crab: first stage.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: Fig. 2.--Young Crab: second stage.]

What we may call the childhood of the crab makes a really curious story.

Boys and girls, until they are quite grown up, are, as a rule at any rate, carefully nursed and s.h.i.+elded from the hards.h.i.+ps of life; but with the young crab it is otherwise. From the moment of its birth it is called upon to enter life's battle alone; of brothers and sisters, mother and father and home, it knows nothing. And such a tiny little mite it is, too, needing a microscope to see it. Stranger still, at this early period of life it is not the least bit like a crab; for a crab, as most of us know it, is a creature with a sh.e.l.l broader than it is long, and long legs, and a pair of pincers which can give a most painful nip to unguarded fingers. As a youngster, however, he presents a very different appearance, as may be seen in fig. 1. That is what he looks like just after leaving the egg--a creature with a huge eye, a big round body, and a long, slender tail--a sort of compromise between a crab and a lobster, but without the familiar legs and pincers.

A little later he a.s.sumes a form which is certainly fantastic, for from the top of the sh.e.l.l (as you will see in fig. 2) there grows out a long, curved spine, while the legs have taken a shape suggesting jointed paint-brushes. Later still the eyes grow out from the head and are supported on short stalks, the legs and pincers appear, and lastly the long tail curls up, till at last it grows into a curious three-cornered s.h.i.+eld and is carried tucked away under the body. As soon as this takes place he becomes at once the crab with which we are familiar, and changes no more except in size.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Fig. 3.--Last stage of Crab's Infancy: back view.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: Fig. 4.--Side view of Fig. 3.]

The strange flap hinged to the hinder edge of the body of the adult crab, and held close to its under surface, really answers to the long body of the lobster. To make this clear, look at the series of figures 3 to 6: fig. 3 shows the back view of the last stage of the crab's infancy, and fig. 4 a side view of the same, where you will note that the tail is already beginning to curl up. In fig. 5 you have the under side of the full-grown crab with all that remains of the hinder part of the body and the tail in the position in which it is carried during life, and in fig. 6 the upper side with the tail showing as if it were unfolded. If you compare figs. 5 and 6 with fig. 7 (a lobster), you can see that the hinder part of the body of the crab, with the tail unfolded, really does answer to that portion of the body of the lobster which lies behind the last pair of legs.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Fig. 5.--Full-grown Crab, under side, showing tail curled up.]

But there are some relatives of the crab which come into the world still earlier, and these in the early stages have a still more un-crab-like shape which is known as the _nauplius_ stage of growth.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Fig. 6.--Full-grown Crab, upper side, with tail unfolded.]

The crab, on leaving the egg, enters the world not in the form of a Nauplius, but as a 'Zoea,' as it is called; this is shown in figs. 1 and 2. By the time the stage shown in figs. 3 and 4 is reached, he has attained the dignity of what is known among scientific men as the _megalopa_ stage. What a nauplius looks like you will see in fig. 8.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Fig. 7.--Lobster.]

This curious order of things is true, however, only of salt-water members of the crab-tribe. With certain near relatives of the crabs and lobsters which have taken up their residence in fresh water, a different order of things prevails, for here we find some trace of maternal care.

Thus, in the fresh-water crayfish the young not only leave the egg in a much more advanced stage, but they are carefully carried about by the mother, until they have learned to s.h.i.+ft for themselves, which they do in a very few days. During this time they cling to the swimming legs of the parent by means of their pincers. When all is quiet they drop off one by one, and crawl about to gather experience and food. But at the least sign of danger the mother appears to give some note of warning, and in a moment they have scuttled back, and fastened hold of her skirts, so to speak; then, if need be, she hurries off to a place of safety. At this time these little crayfish are very tiny indeed; but to get an idea of what they look like, and how they hold on, look at fig.

9, which gives a picture of the swimming foot of a mother crayfish, and two of her youngsters hanging on to it.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Fig. 8.--Nauplius.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: Fig. 9.--Swimming Foot of Crayfish, with the young ones attached.]

It would seem that this great care is necessary, because in the swift-running streams where these creatures generally live, their young, if uncared for during their early days, would be swept away by the tide and carried out to sea, where they would speedily die.

W. P. PYCRAFT, F.Z.S., A.L.S.

A TALE OF BREMEN.

Bremen was a growing city, but its ruler, hard and proud, Insolent in power and riches, all his humble subjects cowed, Till one day a bold man pleaded to the Count on bended knee: 'Sire, for just a little season set my toiling brethren free!

Let them leave awhile their labour, let them roam the country fair, Quit the close and crowded city for a breath of purer air; Or, perchance, their faithful service you will graciously repay, And a piece of ground a.s.sign them from your gardens vast and gay?'

Frowned the Count, and answered, mocking: 'Not a little do you ask!

Well! your prayer shall find a champion, and I'll set him just one task: He shall march from dawn to sunset, pacing my fair gardens round; All his footsteps can encircle shall be then the people's ground.'

Morning came, the folk a.s.sembled, full of hopefulness and glee, But their eager eyes no other than the Count himself can see.

Stay! there standeth one beside him, Hans the cripple, small and weak!

'This is he,' the Count cries, scoffing, 'who shall give you what you seek.

Fly! Hans, fly! Around my pleasaunce speed as quickly as you may!'

And the cripple, smiling bravely, starts forthwith upon his way.

All that day, from morn to even, Hans the cripple did his best, Walking on without cessation, pausing not for food or rest.

Miracle both Count and people deemed the prowess he displayed, And the tyrant scowled in anger as he saw the progress made.

Faint and weary, for his brethren Hans toiled on till eventide, Then, amid the people's cheering, knelt, and breathed a prayer, and died.

Feudal days are gone for ever, but in Bremen's ancient town Tell they still of Hans the hero, who for them his life laid down.