Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1898-08-29
Giving IN ne OPEN. !"
Some Of the Delights ! woman Found Ii
Natures ueitshsp.

Too little do American girls appreciate
out-of,doors. or Twins IN the open" as
Zone might as well ask fish to live in
the water as to ask boys to live out Of
doors: sensible, comfortable boys, with
out corsets, long skirts or coils OF heavy
hair: they live in the air and sunshine,
and laugh defiance az nerves and head
ache" said a woman scientist who is a
great believer in fresh air.
There is more to find out of doors than
air and sunshine; there Is world so fas-
chatting, so charming. it is worth con-
quering and living in. and it Is conquered
by observation. / do not mean the world
Of golf tennis and bicycling; those inter-
esting worlds are already conquered and
inhabited with enthusiastic jewellers. but
1t is the world of nature i would ask you
to explore.
Girls who live in the country and those
who spend their summers amid green
fields do not often know the bird songs.
and flowers are only passing acquain-
tances. Every girl should know the fora
and fauna of her neighborhood II she
be country girl, and a summer sojourn-
er can learn much OF the places she fire.
quents. / will give you a description of
day spent out of doors recently with
| some friends.
1--WE climb over a fence; it is only a
| broken-down old rail fence shambling
| across the pasture lot. but 1t interests us
at once; the getting over suggests the
superstition of fences. or fence-lore, be-
| cause one of the party does not want the
| trouble of climbing over-prefers squeez-
| Ing under the top rail. through an easy
II you go under rail ill-luck will fol-
low you through life.' She stops, crawls
out. and mounts the top rail.
Another says We must not cross the
corner of fence or the devil will follow
| US. but cross in the middle-this a negro
l ~ 20 in. thn 1tn1 -.
we look furtively around: Satan is not in
! sight, but he may appear suddenly II We
do not heed the admonition. We are
over. but We cannot leave. We sit down
| on the grass and look at the fence; each
post has swaying vines creeping up and
festooning themselves in graceful curves
1.-The girl from town says: Il never
| knew that farmers had so much taste.
planting vines at every fence post: they
| must be quite aesthetic: but l suppose
aesthetics influence every one in these
| days. even the farmers I explain that
| nature has beautified the old rail fence.
These rails are a study in shading,
says the artistic girl. Indeed. they are;
the sun, wind and rain had toned the
rails to softest gray: green and gray
| ichens and moss had crept over them
| and the graceful tendris of the Virginia
creeper clinging here and there completed
| the Ornamentation.
"A flash of dusky red and brown start
les the dreaming artist. 1t is only a
merry little chipmunk! Come here in the
shelter of these bushes and you will see
| him again. We nestle under the shelter
of some dropping alders. and soon the
chipmunk creeps out Of his hole in the
fence and runs fearlessly up and down.
| giving. the artist saidci'the bit of rudy
tint needed to bring the cool shades of
| lichen. vine and moss into a harmony OF
color.
A leap. a dash, IA flash of gray!
The squirrel is on Ibis own highway.
''On he comes. over the rails. leaping
the clustering vines, dashing along. At
| tracted' by rustic in the alders. he
his bushy tail, taq&H saaciiy over his
back. his bright eyes watching: another
rustic in the alders, brings forth an i'm
pertinent scolding chatter; away he goes!
A CLEAN of gray on the old fence. and he
has vanished!
See the dirt fly from under the fence
What can it be? oh. the mystery is
| solved. A fine. fat woodchuck energies
from his half-finished home and sits
| against the fence to take a resting spell.
Like his cousin. the beaver. he sits on his
launches, his short paws under his sharp
nose. his keen. watchful eyes looking out
for his enemies. men and dogs. He hears
and sees nothing. all is silent; down he
goes again.. and the dirt flies upward
"Hush! Softly. A wood thrush, his
| speckled breast shining in the sunlight
| alights on the fence. His mate flies near
| Hark to the soft. clear. bell-like notes!
We are lifted above the everyday world
| The common pasture lots become the
| Elysian fields. The old rail fence the
| heights of Olympus. He is silent! The
ceaseless chatter and singing of the 9TH
| err birds seem the distant tumult of the
world-he, the chanting singer in great
| cathedral Once more he lifts his heav-
| emily voice. then on swift wings flies to
| his mate. The pasture and fence seem
| deserted and lonely when he has gone.
The play is over" says the country
girl. that was the last act The curtain
is falling: let us CO.
Wait says the literary girl, we have
| seen and appreciated bit Of Nature.
| now let us hear what two noted writer's
| have also seen and heard
"She turned to her book and read F.
Hopkinson Smiths exquisite description
of a rail fence. then from one of John
Burroughss fascinating hooks on out of
| door life she reads his description of the
wood thrush. 1t is a perfect finish to our
| day Out-of-doOrs.
| 81 had no idea,' said the town girl.
that a common rail fence could be so in
teresting. 1t was almost as entertaining
as matinee
Premature Burial.
Wilkie Cabins left a n,iss;va amonp hie