Birds and nature

Description:

Identifier: birdsnature41906chic (find matches)
Title: Birds and nature
Year: 1900 (1900s)
Authors:
Subjects: Birds Natural history
Publisher: Chicago, Ill. : A.W. Mumford, Publisher
Contributing Library: Smithsonian Institution Libraries
Digitizing Sponsor: Biodiversity Heritage Library

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Text Appearing Before Image:
.Frequently when it would find the doorof the family room open it would enter,approach and rub itself against a mem-ber of the family looking up pleadinglyas if asking for some dainty. Audu-bon tried in vain to arouse it to an ex-hibition of anger. When a Dog camein view matters were different. Thenit instantly assumed the defensive.With its nose lowered, all its quillserect, and its tail moving back andforth, it was ready for the fray. TheDog sprang upon the Porcupine withopen mouth. That animal seemed toswell up in an instant to nearly doubleits size, sharply watched the Dog andat the right moment dealt it such awell-aimed blow with its tail that theMastiff lost courage and set up a loudhowl of pain. His mouth, tongue, andnose were full of Porcupine quills. Hecould not close his jaws, but hurriedopen-mouthed off the premises.Although the spines were immediatelyextracted, the Dogs head was terriblyswollen for several weeks afterward,and it was months before he entirelyrecovered. ir,4
Text Appearing After Image:
i ^ f m THE DEATH OF THE FLOWERS. The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year, Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sear. Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the autumn leaves lie dead; They rustle to the eddying gust, and to the Rabbits tread. The Robin and the Wren are flown, and from the shrubs the Jay, And from the wood-top calls the Crow through all the gloomy day. Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers, that lately sprang and stood In brighter light, and softer airs, a beauteous sisterhood? Alas! they all are in their graves, the gentle race of flowers Are lying in their lowly beds, with the fair and good of ours. The rain is falling where they lie, but the cold November rain Calls not from out the gloomy earth the lovely ones again. The Wind-flower and the Violet, they perished long ago. And the Brier-rose and the Orchis died among the summer glow; But on the hill the Golden-rod, and the Aster in the wood, And the yellow Sun-flower by the br

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