Various - St. Nicholas Magazine for Boys and Girls, Vol. 5, September 1878, No. 11
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Various >> St. Nicholas Magazine for Boys and Girls, Vol. 5, September 1878, No. 11
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10 [Illustration: SHIPWRECKED. Drawn by J.W. Champney.]
ST. NICHOLAS.
VOL. V.
SEPTEMBER, 1878.
No. 11.
[Copyright, 1878, by Scribner & Co.]
FERN-SEED.
BY CELIA THAXTER.
She filled her shoes with fern-seed,
This foolish little Nell,
And in the summer sunshine
Went dancing down the dell.
For whoso treads on fern-seed,--
So fairy stories tell,--
Becomes invisible at once,
So potent is its spell.
A frog mused by the brook-side:
"Can you see me!" she cried;
He leaped across the water,
A flying leap and wide.
"Oh, that's because I asked him!
I must not speak," she thought,
And skipping o'er the meadow
The shady wood she sought.
The squirrel chattered on the bough,
Nor noticed her at all,
The birds sang high, the birds sang low,
With many a cry and call.
The rabbit nibbled in the grass,
The snake basked in the sun,
The butterflies, like floating flowers,
Wavered and gleamed and shone.
The spider in his hammock swung,
The gay grasshoppers danced;
And now and then a cricket sung,
And shining beetles glanced.
'Twas all because the pretty child
So softly, softly trod,--
You could not hear a foot-fall
Upon the yielding sod.
But she was filled with such delight--
This foolish little Nell!
And with her fern-seed laden shoes,
Danced back across the dell.
"I'll find my mother now," she thought,
"What fun 't will be to call
'Mamma! mamma!' while she can see
No little girl at all!"
She peeped in through the window,
Mamma sat in a dream:
About the quiet, sun-steeped house
All things asleep did seem.
She stept across the threshold;
So lightly had she crept,
The dog upon the mat lay still,
And still the kitty slept.
Patient beside her mother's knee
To try her wondrous spell
Waiting she stood, till all at once,
Waking, mamma cried "Nell!
Where have you been? Why do you gaze
At me with such strange eyes?"
"But can you see me, mother dear?"
Poor Nelly faltering cries.
"See you? Why not, my little girl?
Why should mamma be blind?"
And little Nell unties her shoes,
With fairy fern-seed lined,
And tosses up into the air
A little powdery cloud,
And frowns upon it as it falls,
And murmurs half aloud,
"It wasn't true, a word of it,
About the magic spell!
I never will believe again
What fairy stories tell!"
MACKEREL-FISHING.
BY ROBERT ARNOLD.
When I was a boy, I lived on the rugged coast of New England. The sea
abounded in cod, hake, mackerel, and many other kinds of fish. The
mackerel came in "schools" in late summer, and sometimes were very
plentiful. One day, my uncle James determined to go after some of these
fish, with his son George, and invited me to go with them. We were to
start before day-break the next morning. I went to bed that night with
an impatient heart, and it was a long time before I could go to sleep.
After I did get asleep, I dreamed of the whale that swallowed Jonah, and
all kinds of fishes, big and little. I was awakened by somebody calling,
in a very loud voice, "Robert! Robert!" I jumped out of bed, with my
eyes not more than half opened, and fell over the chair on which I had
put my clothes. This made me open my eyes, and I soon realized that the
voice proceeded from my cousin George, who had come to arouse me for the
fishing-voyage.
I dressed as quickly as possible, and went downstairs. All was quiet in
the house except the old clock ticking in the kitchen. I went
out-of-doors and found the stars still shining. It was half-past three
o'clock in the morning. There was no sign of daylight, and even the
cocks had not begun to crow. In the darkness I espied George, who said,
"Come, it is time to start. Father is waiting for you."
We walked across the fields to my uncle's house. Taking each a basket
and knife, we began our journey, and soon entered the pine-woods. As we
walked along in the darkness, we could scarcely see each other or the
path. The wind was sighing mournfully among the tree-tops, and, as we
gazed upward, we could see the stars twinkling in the clear sky.
We soon emerged from the forest, and came to a sandy plain. Before us
was the ocean, just discernible. There were two or three lights,
belonging to vessels that were anchored near the shore. We could see the
waves and hear their murmur, as they broke gently upon the shore. A soft
breeze was blowing from the west, and the sea was almost as smooth as a
pond.
When we reached the beach, we found that it was low water. The boat was
at high-water mark. What should we do? We did as the fishermen in that
region always do in the same circumstances--took two rollers, perhaps
six inches in diameter, lifted the bow of the boat, put one of the
rollers under it, and the other upon the sand about eight feet in front
of it. We then pushed the boat until it reached the second roller, and
rolled it upon that until the other was left behind. Then the first was
put in front of the boat, and so we kept on until our craft reached the
water. Uncle James and George took the oars, and I sat in the stern,
with the tiller in my hand, to steer.
We got out over the breakers without difficulty, and rowed toward the
fishing-ground. It is queer that fishermen call the place where they
fish, "the ground," but that is only one of the many queer things that
they do. By this time, daylight had come. The eastern sky was gorgeous
with purple and red, and hues that no mortal can describe. Soon a red
arc appeared, and then the whole glorious sun, looking more grand and
beautiful than can be thought of by one who has never seen the sun rise
over the sea.
"How glorious!" I exclaimed, impulsively.
"Yes; it is a first-rate morning for fishing," said my uncle, whose mind
was evidently upon business, and not upon the beauties of nature.
After rowing about three miles, we stopped, and prepared for fishing.
Each of us had two lines, about twenty feet long. The hooks were about
as big as large trout-hooks. Pewter had been run around the upper part
of them, so that "sinkers" were not required. The pewter answered a
double purpose; it did duty as a sinker, and, being bright, attracted
the notice of the fish. Uncle James had brought with him some clams,
which we cut from their shells and put on the hooks. We threw in our
lines and waited for a bite. We did not wait long, for, in less than a
minute, George cried out, in the most excited manner, "There's a fish on
my hook!"
"Pull, then!" shouted his father.
He was too agitated to pull at first, but, at length, managed to haul in
his line, and, behold, a slender fish, about eight inches long, showing
all the colors of the rainbow, as he held it up in the morning sun! It
was our first mackerel. While admiring George's prize, I suddenly became
aware of a lively tug at one of my own lines. I pulled it in, and found
that I had caught a fish just like the other, only a little larger. No
sooner had I taken it from the hook than my other line was violently
jerked. I hauled it in hurriedly, and on the end of it was--not a
mackerel, but a small, brown fish, with a big head and an enormous
mouth. I was about to take it from the hook when my uncle called, "Look
out!" He seized it, and showed me the long, needle-like projections on
its back, with which, but for his interference, my hand might have been
badly wounded. This unwelcome visitor was a sculpin. Sculpins are very
numerous in this region.
[Illustration: MACKEREL-BOATS.]
Uncle James explained how I happened to catch one of them. They swim at
a much greater depth than mackerel usually do, and, while I was busy
with one line, the other had sunk some twelve or fifteen feet down where
the sculpins dwelt.
When mackerel are inclined to take the bait, they are usually close to
the surface of the water. They began now to bite with the greatest
eagerness, and gave us all the work that we could do. As soon as I had
taken a fish from one line, the other demanded my attention. I did not
have to _wait_ for a bite. Indeed, as soon as the hook was thrown into
the water, several mackerel would dart for it. As George said, they were
very anxious to be caught. This was very different from my previous
experience in fishing for trout in the little brooks near my home. I
used to fish all day and not get more than two or three trout, and often
I would not get one. Those that I did catch were not more than four or
five inches long. I guess some of my boy readers have had the same
experience.
The only drawback was baiting the hook whenever a fish was taken from
it. Uncle James soon remedied this difficulty. He cut from the under
side of a dead mackerel six thin pieces, about half an inch in diameter,
and gave each of us two. We put them on our hooks, and they served for
bait a long time. When they were gone, we put on more of the same kind.
Mackerel will bite at any very small object, almost, that they can see,
and sometimes fishermen fasten a small silver coin to their hooks, which
will do duty as bait for days. They wish to catch as many fish as they
possibly can, while they are biting, for mackerel are very notional.
Sometimes they will bite so fast as to tire their captors, and, ten
minutes after, not one can be felt or seen. Usually, they can be caught
best in the morning and toward evening. I suppose they have but two
meals a day, breakfast and supper, going without their dinner. In this
respect, they resemble trout and many other kinds of fish.
They are caught in great numbers off the coast of Maine and
Massachusetts in the months of August and September. Hundreds of
schooners, large and small, and thousands of men and boys are employed
in the business. Standing upon the shore, near Portland, and looking out
upon the Atlantic, on a bright summer's day, you can sometimes see more
white, glistening sails of "mackerel-catchers" than you can count. At
the wharves of every little village on the sea-shore, or on a river near
the shore, boats and fishermen abound. Of late years, immense nets or
"seines" have been used, and often, by means of them, enormous
quantities of fish have been secured in one haul. The season is short,
but most of the fishermen, before the mackerel come and after they go,
engage in fishing for cod and hake, which are plentiful also.
Mackerel-catching has its joys, but it also has its sorrows and
uncertainties. One vessel may have excellent luck while another may be
very unfortunate. In short, those engaged in the pursuit of mackerel
have to content themselves with "fishermen's luck."
While we were busily fishing, George called my attention to a dark fin,
projecting a few inches above the water, and gradually approaching the
boat with a peculiar wavy motion. Just before reaching us it sank out of
sight. I cast an inquiring glance at my cousin, who said, in a low tone
of voice, "A shark!" A feeling of wonder and dread came over me, and
doubtless showed itself in my face, for my uncle said, in an assuring
voice, "He will not harm us."
The mackerel stopped biting all at once. Our fishing was over. It was
now about ten o'clock, and the sun had become warm. Half a mile from us
was a small island, with a plenty of grass and a few trees, but no
houses. Uncle James proposed that we should row to it, which we gladly
did. Its shores were steep and rocky, and we found much difficulty in
landing; but at last we got ashore and pulled the boat up after us.
Among the rocks we found a quantity of drift-wood; we gathered some, and
built a fire. Uncle James produced some bread and crackers from his
basket, and, after roasting some of the nice, fat mackerel on sharp
sticks before the fire, we sat down to what seemed to us a delicious
breakfast. We were in excellent spirits, and George and I cracked jokes
and laughed to our hearts' content. After our hunger had been satisfied,
we wandered over the island, which we christened Mackerel Island, and,
sitting upon a high cliff, watched the seals as they bobbed their heads
out of the water, and turned their intelligent, dog-like faces, with
visible curiosity, toward us. They did not seem to be at all afraid, for
they swam close to the rock upon which we sat. We whistled, and they
were evidently attracted by the sound. These seals are numerous in some
of the bays on the New England coast. Most of them are small, but
occasionally one is seen of considerable size. Their fur is coarse and
of little value, but they are sought after by fishermen for the sake of
their oil, which commands a ready sale for a good price. After we had
got fully rested, we launched our boat, rowed homeward, and soon landed
upon the beach.
SPRING AND SUMMER.
BY DORA READ GOODALE.
In Spring we note the breaking
Of every baby bud;
In Spring we note the waking
Of wild flowers of the wood;
In Summer's fuller power,
In Summer's deeper soul,
We watch no single flower,--
We see, we breathe the whole.
THE AX OF RANIER.
BY THOMAS DUNN ENGLISH.
Once upon a time, there lived on the borders of a forest an old woman
named Jehanne, who had an only son, a youth of twenty-one years, who was
called Ranier. Where the two had originally come from no one knew; but
they had lived in their little hut for many years. Ranier was a
wood-cutter, and depended on his daily labor for the support of himself
and mother, while the latter eked out their scanty means by spinning.
The son, although poor, was not without learning, for an old monk in a
neighboring convent had taught him to read and write, and had given him
instructions in arithmetic. Ranier was handsome, active and strong, and
very much attached to his mother, to whom he paid all the honor and
obedience due from a son to a parent.
One morning in spring, Ranier went to his work in the forest with his ax
on his shoulder, whistling one of the simple airs of the country as he
pursued his way. Striding along beneath the branches of the great oaks
and chestnuts, he began to reflect upon the hard fate which seemed to
doom him to toil and wretchedness, and, thus thinking, whistled no
longer. Presently he sat down upon a moss-covered rock, and laying his
ax by his side, let his thoughts shape themselves into words.
"This is a sad life of mine," said Ranier. "I might better it, perhaps,
were I to enlist in the army of the king, where I should at least have
food and clothing; but I cannot leave my mother, of whom I am the sole
stay and support. Must I always live thus,--a poor wood-chopper, earning
one day the bread I eat the next, and no more?"
Ranier suddenly felt that some one was near him, and, on looking up,
sprang to his feet and removed his cap. Before him stood a beautiful
lady, clad in a robe of green satin, with a mantle of crimson velvet on
her shoulders, and bearing in her hand a white wand.
"Ranier!" said the unknown, "I am the fairy, Rougevert. I know your
history, and have heard your complaint. What gift shall I bestow on
you?"
"Beautiful fairy," replied the young man, "I scarcely know what to ask.
But I bethink me that my ax is nearly worn out, and I have no money with
which to buy another."
The fairy smiled, for she knew that the answer of Ranier came from his
embarrassment; and, going to a tree hard by, she tapped on the bark with
her wand. Thereupon the tree opened, and she took from a recess in its
center, a keen-edged ax with an ashen handle.
"Here," said Rougevert, "is the most excellent ax in the world. With
this you can achieve what no wood-chopper has ever done yet. You have
only to whisper to yourself what you wish done, and then speak to it
properly, and the ax will at once perform all you require, without
taxing your strength, and with marvelous quickness."
The fairy then taught him the words he should use, and, promising to
farther befriend him as he had need, vanished.
Ranier took the ax, and went at once to the place where he intended to
labor for the day. He was not sure that the ax would do what the giver
had promised, but thought it proper to try its powers. "For," he said to
himself, "the ranger has given me a hundred trees to fell, for each of
which I am to receive a silver groat. To cut these in the usual way
would take many days. I will wish the ax to fell and trim them speedily,
so,"--he continued aloud, as he had been taught by the fairy,--"Ax! ax!
chop! chop! and work for my profit!"
Thereupon the ax suddenly leapt from his hands, and began to chop with
great skill and swiftness. Having soon cut down, trimmed and rolled a
hundred trees together, it returned, and placed itself in the hands of
Ranier.
The wood-chopper was very much delighted with all this, and sat there
pleasantly reflecting upon his good fortune in possessing so useful a
servant, when the ranger of the forest came along. The latter, who was a
great lord, was much surprised when he saw the trees lying there.
"How is this?" asked the ranger, whose name was Woodmount. "At this time
yesterday these trees were standing. How did you contrive to fell them
so soon?"
"I had assistance, my lord," replied Ranier; but he said nothing about
the magic ax.
Lord Woodmount hereupon entered into conversation with Ranier, and
finding him to be intelligent and prompt in his replies, was much
pleased with him. At last he said:
"We have had much difficulty in getting ready the timber for the king's
new palace, in consequence of the scarcity of wood-cutters, and the
slowness with which they work. There are over twenty thousand trees yet
to be cut and hewn, and for every tree fully finished the king allows a
noble of fifty groats, although he allows but a groat for the felling
alone. It is necessary that they should be all ready within a month,
though I fear that is impossible. As you seem to be able to get a number
of laborers together, I will allot you a thousand trees, if you choose,
should you undertake to have them all ready to be hauled away for the
builders' use, within a month's time."
"My lord," answered Ranier, "I will undertake to have the whole twenty
thousand ready before the time set."
"Do you know what you say?" inquired the ranger, astonished at the bold
proposal.
"Perfectly, my lord," was the reply. "Let me undertake the work on
condition that you will cause the forest to be guarded, and no one to
enter save they have my written permission. Before the end of the month
the trees will be ready."
[Illustration: FELLING THE TREES.]
"Well," said Lord Woodmount, "it is a risk for me to run; but from what
you have done already, it is possible you may obtain enough woodmen to
complete your task. Yet, beware! If you succeed, I will not only give
you twenty thousand nobles of gold, but also appoint you--if you can
write, as you have told me--the deputy-ranger here; and for every day
less than a month in which you finish your contract I will add a hundred
nobles; but, if you fail, I will have you hanged on a tree. When will
you begin?"
"To-morrow morning," replied Ranier.
The next morning, before daylight, Ranier took his way to the forest,
leaving all his money save three groats with his mother, and, after
telling her that he might not return for a day or so, passed the guard
that he found already set, and plunged into the wood. When he came to a
place where the trees were thickest and loftiest, he whispered to
himself what he had to do, and said to the ax: "Ax! ax! chop! chop! and
work for my profit." The ax at once went to work with great earnestness,
and by night-fall over ten thousand trees were felled, hewn, and thrown
into piles. Then Ranier, who had not ceased before to watch the work,
ate some of the provisions which he had brought with him, and throwing
himself under a great tree, whose spreading boughs shaded him from the
moonlight, drew his scanty mantle around him, and slept soundly till
sunrise.
The next morning Ranier arose, and looked with delight at the work
already done; then, speaking again to the ax, it began chopping away as
before.
Now, it chanced that morning that the chief ranger had started to see
how the work was being done, and, on reaching the forest, asked the
guards if many wood-cutters had entered. They all replied that only one
had made his appearance, but he must be working vigorously, since all
that morning, and the whole day before, the wood had resounded with the
blows of axes. The Lord Woodmount thereupon rode on in great anger, for
he thought that Ranier had mocked him. But presently he came to great
piles of hewn timber which astonished him much; and then he heard the
axes' sound, which astonished him more, for it seemed as though twenty
wood-choppers were engaged at once, so great was the din. When he came
to where the ax was at work, he thought he saw--and this was through the
magic power of the fairy--thousands of wood-cutters, all arrayed in
green hose and red jerkins, some felling the trees, some hewing them
into square timber, and others arranging the hewn logs into piles of a
hundred each, while Ranier stood looking on. He was so angry at the
guards for having misinformed him, that he at once rode back and rated
them soundly on their supposed untruth. But as they persisted in the
story that but one man had passed, he grew angrier than ever. While he
was still rating them, Ranier came up.
"Well, my lord," said the latter, "if you will go or send to examine,
you will find that twenty thousand trees are already cut, squared, and
made ready to be hauled to the king's palace-ground."
The ranger at once rode back into the forest, and, having counted the
number of piles, was much pleased, and ordered Ranier to come that day
week when the timber would be inspected, and if it were all properly
done he would receive the twenty thousand nobles agreed upon.
"Excuse me, my lord," suggested Ranier, "but the work has been done in
two days instead of thirty; and twenty-eight days off at a hundred
nobles per day makes twenty-two thousand eight hundred nobles as my
due."
"True," replied the ranger; "and if you want money now--"
"Oh no!" interrupted Ranier, "I have three groats in my purse, and ten
more at home, which will be quite sufficient for my needs."
At this the ranger laughed outright, and then rode away.
At the end of a week, Ranier sought the ranger's castle, and there
received not only an order on the king's treasurer for the money, but
also the patent of deputy-ranger of the king's forest, and the allotment
of a handsome house in which to live. Thither Ranier brought his mother,
and as he was now rich, he bought him fine clothing, and hired him
servants, and lived in grand style, performing all the duties of his
office as though he had been used to it all his life. People noticed,
however, that the new deputy-ranger never went out without his ax, which
occasioned some gossip at first; but some one having suggested that he
did so to show that he was not ashamed of his former condition, folk
were satisfied,--though the truth was that he carried the ax for service
only.
Now it happened that Ranier was walking alone one evening in the forest
to observe whether any one was trying to kill the king's deer, and while
there, he heard the clash of swords. On going to the spot whence the
noise came, he saw a cavalier richly clad, with his back to a tree,
defending himself as he best might, from a half dozen men in armor, each
with his visor down. Ranier had no sword, for, not being a knight, it
was forbidden him to bear such a weapon; but he bethought him of his ax,
and hoped it might serve the men as it had the trees. So he wished these
cowardly assailants killed, and when he uttered the prescribed words,
the ax fell upon the villains, and so hacked and hewed them that they
were at once destroyed. But it seemed to the knight thus rescued that it
was the arm of Ranier that guided the ax, for such was the magic of the
fairy.
So soon as the assailants had been slain, the ax came back into Ranier's
hand, and Ranier went to the knight, who was faint with his wounds, and
offered to lead him to his house. And when he examined him fully, he
bent on his knee, for he discovered that it was the king, Dagobert, whom
he had seen once before when the latter was hunting in the forest.
The king said: "This is the deputy-ranger, Master Ranier. Is it not?"
"Yes, sire!" replied Ranier.
The king laid the blade of his sword on Ranier's shoulder, and said:
"I dub thee knight. Rise up, Sir Ranier! Be trusty, true and loyal."
Sir Ranier arose a knight, and with the king examined the faces of the
would-be assassins, who were found to be great lords of the country, and
among them was Lord Woodmount.
"Sir Ranier," said the king, "have these wretches removed and buried.
The office of chief ranger is thine."
Sir Ranier, while the king was partaking of refreshments at Ranier's
house, sent trusty servants to bury the slain. After this, King Dagobert
returned to his palace, whence he sent the new knight his own sword, a
baldrick and spurs of gold, a collar studded with jewels, the patent of
chief ranger of the forest, and a letter inviting him to visit the
court.
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