Frank and f.a.n.n.y.
by Mrs. Clara Moreton.
PREFACE.
To inculcate gentleness of disposition, patience, and benevolence, and to inspire the young with a love for the simple pleasures of rural life, is the purpose of the following story. The love of exciting narratives is not favourable to the developement of those mild virtues which are the most beautiful ornaments of youth; and, in the following pages, the quiet scenes and simple characters of rural life solicit attention, in preference to the hairbreadth "scapes and marvellous adventures which are often brought under the notice of the young. If the author has succeeded in the moral purpose of her little book, she will be satisfied with the result.
FRANK AND f.a.n.n.y.
CHAPTER I.
FRANK AND f.a.n.n.y"S HOME.
Frank and f.a.n.n.y Lee were orphans. Their parents died when they were children, leaving them to the care of their grand-parents, who lived in the suburbs of a beautiful village, in New England.
Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton were very fond of their grand-children, and did every thing in their power to make them happy. They were not rich, and therefore, had no money to throw away for useless toys; but this caused Frank and f.a.n.n.y no uneasiness. In fine weather, all the leisure time which they could get from school, and from their tasks, was spent in wandering through the woods which skirted the little village on almost every side. In spring time they watched for the first flowers, and many a bouquet of tiny "forget-me-nots," and dark blue, and pure white violets, they brought to their grandmother, who welcomed the wild flowers of spring, with as much pleasure, and youth of heart as the grand-children.
As the season advanced, there was no end to the variety which they gathered; and the sweetest were daily selected for the little vase, which always stood upon the table, beside the large family Bible, out of which, both morning and evening, the good grandmother read to her children.
Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton owned the comfortable cottage, in which they lived. It was shaded in front by a large elm tree, that spread its arms far out over the moss-covered roof, as if it were some protecting spirit. Around the door, a beautiful vine had been trained; and rose bushes, and shrubs, were scattered through the yard. On one side of the house, was a garden, where grew a profusion of currant bushes, and raspberry vines, with many useful vegetables, and flowers were scattered along on each side of the little walk that ran through the centre of the garden. There were hollyhocks, and noonsleeps, and tiger-lilies, and little patches of moss pinks, the tiny flowers all tangled in with their green foliage, and sweet williams, and love-lies-bleeding; and the children thought there was never such another garden in the world. Here the children delighted to watch the b.u.t.terflies, and bees, and birds, revelling among the flowers, especially the beautiful humming bird, with his jacket of golden green, his ruby-colored throat, and long, slender bill, which he was so fond of thrusting into the garden lilies and hollyhocks. He loved to resort to the garden of Frank and f.a.n.n.y, where the bright sun was shining on the flowers.
[Ill.u.s.tration: THE HUMMING BIRD.]
Then there was a little brown arbor, with grape vines carefully trained over it, and rustic seats within; and there were quince trees just beyond, and up by the gateway there grew tall stalks of fennel; and altogether, it _was_ a most delightful place. Back of the house was an orchard, and here pippins, long-stems, flyers, greenings, and seek-no-furthers, grew side by side.
[Ill.u.s.tration: THE CEDAR BIRD.]
Here these children delighted to watch the beautiful cedar bird with his silky plumage, and his smart crest. He is a sociable, gentle bird, who allowed the children to come very near him, as he was perched upon the cedar bush.
The stone wall which surrounded the orchard, afforded shelter to a great number of striped squirrels, whose nimble motions it was the delight of Frank and f.a.n.n.y to watch, as they scampered over the wall, or ran along on its top, or sought a safer retreat in the thick branches of the apple trees. This last retreat, however, was not often sought, as the striped squirrel is not fond of trees. His nest is in a hole under a stump, or stone wall; he seeks his living on the ground, and is the most playful, elegant little animal I ever saw. He is called in different parts of the country, Ground Squirrel, Chipping Squirrel, and Chipmuck, the last being probably his Indian name. Frank and f.a.n.n.y loved the striped squirrel; but never threw stones at him, or sought to make him a prisoner.
[Ill.u.s.tration: THE STRIPED SQUIRREL.]
The foot of the orchard was bounded by a clear, wide brook, shaded by willows, and the fish plashed about in troops in the cool shade.
Here upon the margin of the water, seated upon a little stump, watching for his finny prey, the children used often to peep at the Belted King Fisher, in his bluish coat, white collar, and prettily marked wings. This bird"s delight is to dwell on the borders of running rivulets, or the bold cataracts of mountain streams, which abound with small fish and insects, his accustomed fare. When the fish do not approach his station, he flies along, just over the water, and occasionally hovers with rapidly moving wings over the spot where he sees a trout or minnow. In the next instant, descending with a quick spiral sweep, he seizes a fish, with which he rises to his post and swallows it in an instant. All these proceedings were watched frequently by the children, with intense delight, as they stood concealed among the bushes, not daring to move for fear of disturbing the bird.
[Ill.u.s.tration: THE KING FISHER.]
On the other side of the brook was a cranberry marsh, with a raised road pa.s.sing through to the pine forest, still beyond, where the children gathered the ground pine, and hunted for the bright scarlet berries of the winter-green. When the children resorted to the cranberry marsh to obtain a supply of berries for their mother, they often saw the beautiful meadow lark, crouching among the reeds, or flying slowly and steadily away, as they approached her, uttering her lisping, melancholy note, which sounded like, "_et-se-de-ah_," and sometimes, "_tai-sedilio_." This bird was much admired by f.a.n.n.y, who was dreadfully grieved when a neighboring sportsman shot a number of meadow larks for the sake of their flesh, which is almost equal in flavor to that of the partridge.
[Ill.u.s.tration: THE MEADOW LARK.]
[Ill.u.s.tration: THE AMERICAN AVOSET.]
In this marsh, too, the children sometimes saw that singular bird, the Avoset, with its curious curved bill, its noisy clamor, and its long legs, bending and tottering under him, as he ran about the marsh or waded into its pools. He was a great curiosity in his way.
Thus the cranberry marsh had its pleasures for Frank and f.a.n.n.y.
But this was not their favorite resort. They loved best to cross the meadows in front of the house, to a forest, where the woods were more open, and where trees of every variety, cast their shadows upon the green turf, and wild flowers grew upon every hillock, and peeped out from every mossy glade. There were little wildernesses of honey-suckles, too, scattered through the woods, and long, pale green fern leaves, fit for a fairy to sway to and fro upon; and there were vines of wild grapes, with branches so strong, that they often made swings of them.
Sometimes in their rambles in the woods, they started a wild hare, which they called a rabbit, who fled away from them with long leaps, and was soon out of sight, so that they could hardly catch a glimpse of him in his rapid flight. But they were always greatly excited with a view of him, and lamented that they had no means of catching him.
[Ill.u.s.tration: THE RABBIT.]
Some of Frank"s school fellows, however, were more skilled in hunting.
They knew how to set snares for the poor rabbits, and were very often successful in catching them. By means of an elastic branch, or sapling, bent over, and furnished with a snare of strong twine, they contrived to catch the poor rabbit by the neck, and string him up in the air, like a criminal convicted of murder. It was no misfortune to Frank to be ignorant of this hunting craft.
[Ill.u.s.tration: BOYS SNARING RABBITS.]
Another curious animal, which the children sometimes saw, and which may be seen occasionally in the pastures and pine forests, in all parts of our country, from Maine to Carolina, was the woodchuck, or ground-hog, as it is sometimes called. It feeds, generally, upon clover and other succulent vegetables, and hence it is often injurious to the farmer. It is said to bring forth four or five young at a litter. Its gait is awkward, and not rapid; but its extreme vigilance, and acute sense of hearing, prevent it from being often captured. It forms deep and long burrows in the earth, to which it flies upon the least alarm. It appears to be sociable in its habits; for upon one occasion, we noticed some thirty or forty burrows in a field of about five acres. These burrows contain large excavations, in which they deposit stores of provisions. It hybernates during the winter, having first carefully closed the entrance of its burrow from within. It is susceptible of domestication, and is remarkable for its cleanly habits. Its cheeks are susceptible of great dilatation, and are used as receptacles for the food which it thus transports to its burrow. The capture of the woodchuck, forms one of the most exciting sports of boys, and it is very easily domesticated.
[Ill.u.s.tration: THE WOODCHUCK.]
The woods abounded in other wild animals, all small and harmless, but extremely interesting to the children. In their frequent visits to the woods, it was their delight to watch the animals and birds, and observe their motions, habits, and modes of life. But they were not fond of disturbing them; and when they deviated from their rule in this respect, on one remarkable occasion, as we shall now relate, it gave them occasion for much sorrow.
CHAPTER II.
THE YOUNG CHICKADEE.
One Sat.u.r.day afternoon, the children found in the woods, a grape vine, larger than any that they had before discovered. One end clasped a decayed tree, and as they bore their weight upon the vine, to try its strength, they were startled by a hoa.r.s.e cry above them. Looking up, they saw two brown birds, beating the air with their wings, and screaming, "tshe daigh, daigh, daigh; tshe daigh, daigh, daigh!" At the same time, from amidst the green foliage which twined about the dead tree, they heard a feeble, plaintive cry from several little throats, "te-derry, te-derry." Frank and f.a.n.n.y were much amused. They had never seen a bird"s nest so low before, and they had been forbidden to climb the trees; but now Frank saw, that by placing one large stone upon another, he could reach up, so as to look into the nest. He did so, and found there were six little birds in it. But f.a.n.n.y begged him to get down, the poor parent birds were so distressed. So he went and stood by her, upon the turf, where she was kneeling, and they both watched the frighted mother bird, as she fluttered back to her nest. The other still flapped the air with his wings, and by his angry notes, brought another bird to the scene. This one looked so plump and dignified, perched upon the bough of an adjoining tree, that f.a.n.n.y guessed he was the grandpapa.
[Ill.u.s.tration: THE CHICKADEE.]
They became so interested in the birds, that they forgot how rapidly the time was pa.s.sing, and it was nearly sundown when they started to go home. They skipped lightly over the soft, green gra.s.s of the meadows, stopping now and then, to look at some curious insect, and then walking on slowly with their arms around each other.
[Ill.u.s.tration: FRANK AND f.a.n.n.y IN THE WOODS.]
Frank was very fond of his sister, seldom leaving her for any other playmate. He remembered his dying mother"s charge. She had called both children to her bed side, before her death, and placing f.a.n.n.y"s hand in Frank"s, had said, "My son, in a few hours you and f.a.n.n.y will be motherless; promise me that you will try to fill my place; that you will cherish and love your sister, with all the care and tenderness of which you are capable; and f.a.n.n.y, my little darling, you must remember mamma, and try never to be peevish and fretful, so that Frank will love to be with you, and take care of you; and both of you must always be the same good and obedient children to your grand-parents, that you have ever been;" and Frank promised, through his sobs, that he would never neglect his gentle little sister. He had kept his promise faithfully. More than a year had now pa.s.sed away, and very seldom had f.a.n.n.y known what it was to have her brother cross, or unkind to her.
Frank was now ten years old, and f.a.n.n.y seven. In all the village, there were not two happier, or better behaved children.
We will now go back to the pleasant green meadows, where we left them on their way home. f.a.n.n.y was looking very serious, when Frank said:
"Are you tired, sister? If you are, I will carry you pick-a-back back."
"Oh, no, I am not one single bit tired."
"Then what makes you look so sober?"