GETTING ACQUAINTED WITH NATURE. 



It is a great pity that so many persons 

 never get acquainted with Nature, for 

 she is one of the best and wisest of 

 friends, one who can paint pictures for 

 us and tell stories and sing songs and 

 amuse and delight and instruct us and 

 keep us young all our days. And yet 

 many never look into her face or listen 

 to her voice or take her outstretched 

 hand. Perhaps they are waiting for an 

 introduction. Fortunately a few of Na- 

 ture's friends, who know her well enough 

 and have the necessary art, have taken 

 upon themselves this pleasant task of in- 

 troduction. This is the great service of 

 the Nature poets. Chaucer, Wordsworth, 

 Cowper, Burns, Emerson, Whittier and 

 the rest are intimate friends of Nature 

 and have introduced thousands to her 

 friendship. But their introductions are 

 almost too formal and finely phrased to 

 succeed with everyone. So the natural- 

 ists have had to come to their assistance. 

 Good old Gilbert White of Selborne, in- 

 troduced thousands, in his quaint homely 

 way. John Burroughs, in his genial, fa- 

 miliar fashion has done great service in 

 this capacity. So have Thoreau and dear 

 old Isaac Walton and Jefifries and Brad- 

 ford Torrey and Rowland Robinson and 

 Henry Van Dyke and scores of others. 



And yet, in spite of all these kindly and 

 good-natured go-betweens, the great ma- 

 jority of mankind, to their indescribable 

 loss, have not even a speaking acquaint- 

 ance with Nature. A few, to be sure, 

 have formed an acquaintance which has 

 ripened into friendship, without any in- 

 troduction, which is after all, perhaps the 

 best way. But these are rare. Even 

 those of us who think we are on pretty 

 intimate terms w^ith Nature really know 

 but little of her wonders and her ways. 

 We know a few of the more familiar 

 birds and flowers, have a dog or cat that 

 we fraternize with, and can tell a sunset 

 when we see it ; but that is about all. We 



need to pursue our acquaintance further 

 to develop it into a warm and fast friend- 

 ship. To do this we must sharpen our 

 eyes and our ears and our wits and en- 

 large our hearts. It is really amazing 

 how naturalists make friends with Na- 

 ture's children whom we never think of 

 as having any possible relation to our- 

 selves. 



Dr. James Weir, Jr., author of "The 

 Dawn of Reason," has some very inter- 

 esting stories of friendships with animals 

 and insects. Among others he tells of a 

 wolf-spider with whom he struck 

 up an acquaintance during an illness. 

 This spider became so tame that she 

 would crawl upon his finger and allow 

 herself to be brought close to his eyes 

 so that he might watch her movements. 

 When a stranger came into the room she 

 would run and hide. Like so many ani- 

 mals, she was fond of music and could be 

 enticed from her hiding place by low soft 

 notes, while quick sharp sounds drove 

 her away. A spider might not seem to be 

 the most desirable of friends, but it is 

 hardly more repulsive to the ultra-sensi- 

 tive than Browning's toad which used to 

 follow him about the garden so afifection- 

 ately. It is singular, in some respects, 

 that women, who have as a rule gentler 

 hearts toward animals than men, should 

 be so timid in the presence of mice, as 

 well as of many insects. 



A few gallant women, however, have 

 shown themselves undismayed in the 

 presence of a mouse, even of several 

 mice. Indeed, Miss Ada Sterling has 

 written that she has gone so far as to 

 give concerts for mice, gathering them 

 about her as she sat at the piano by play- 

 ing gentle strains that answered to their 

 own nature and liking. She does not tell 

 us, however, whether she dared rise be- 

 fore having played some more stirring 

 tune to frighten them away. 



Among Dr. Weir's pets he tells us of 



102 



