NATURE IN LITTLE 



and in our hemisphere it rotates in the same direc- 

 tion — in opposition to the hands of a clock. 



Mere size does not count for much with Nature; 

 she is all there, in the least as in the greatest. A drop 

 of dew reveals the rainbow tints as well as the myriad 

 drops of the summer shower, and the bow hovers 

 in the spray of a small waterfall as surely as in that 

 of Niagara. The thunderbolt leaps with no more 

 speed across the black chasm of the clouded heavens, 

 than does the electric spark in your laboratory leap 

 across the tiny spaces from one pole to the other. 



But the big-lettered and startling headlines in 

 Nature's book occupy the reat nature-lover less 

 than does the smaller print. The big and exceptional 

 things all can see, but only the loving observers 

 take note of the minor facts and incidents. 



Emerson in his journal thinks it worth while to 

 notice the jokes of Nature. He cites the Punch faces 

 in the English violets, the parrots, the monkeys, the 

 lapwing's limping, and the like petty stratagems of 

 other birds. He might have cited the little green 

 tody of Jamaica, which is a clownish-looking little 

 bird with its green suit and big golden beak, as if it 

 might be playing a part in some bird carnival. The 

 puffins of the Northern seas, with their jewlike pro- 

 files and short legs, also suggest the comic side of 

 Nature, as do the big gray pelicans in the Southern 

 seas. On the wing, or riding on the wave, the peli- 

 can has a bulky, awkward look. But there are 

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