Republican news item. [volume] (Laport, Pa.) 1896-19??, 1901-07-11
The Story of a FOSSIL.

Once upon time, long, long ago
there was a dear little fern growing in
the woods. 1t first crept out of the
ground, wee tender thing, rolled in
pale green spiral, which opened day
by day until the little fern stood up
and faced beautiful world. Warmed
by the sun, fed by the rain, it grew
dainty and fair as those you love to
gather in the woods. But no eager
hand reached down to pluck little fern,
for in all the great lovely earth there
were no people to enjoy its beauty.
One day great storm came. Louder
and louder blew the wind through the
tree tops. Day after day the rain fell;
wider and wider grew the brook. At
last, the rushing waters came so near,
that the frail little fern was caught
by the stream and whirled away.
Over and over, round and round
down to the bottom, up to the top-not
a moments rest for the little fern!
Flung against stones, hurled among
floating branches, tossed amid leaves
and twigs, bruised by sand and gray
e1, for the brook in it's haste carried
along everything in it's reach. For
days little fern was borne swiftly on
until it came to the quiet waters of
lake. Then, together with the leaves
and sand and gravel, little fern sank
to the bottom.
Every day the stream brought more
sand and gravel and they were buried
deeper and deeper; and it seemed
quite certain the sun would neve:
shine upon little fern again. Year
after year, hundreds of years passed,
and little fern was buried under many
feet of earth. Gradually the tiny
fern, once so fragile that a baoy's
hand might easily have crushed it,
became harder, until it turned to
stone. The sand and gravel. too. be.
came solid rock.
You must remember that by this
time they were pressed under tons
Of earth. Great forest trees had been
added to the weight over them; for
while little fern was quietly sleeping
wonderful things had happened in the
bright world outside. Where the lake
had been, a wider marsh appeared,
then forest. Then the ground in
which they grew sank lower, lower;
and the forest became covered with
water. And so change after change
came, until again the surface far
above little fern was covered with
dense forests. The world was no
longer silent. Fleet-footed deer spell
through the trees, chased by the ar.
rows of the Indians. and the air was
filled with the songs OF birds. The
woods were full Of life
Then came the white man with his
axe, telling the trees, building houses
and towns, digging far into the earth
for the wealth hidden below. Down,
down. deep into the earth went the
brave miners, searching for the coal
that long ago had been forest trees
and beautiful plants.
There came day when the "clang,
clang! of the pickaxe reached the
quiet resting place of little fern. Near
er and nearer drew the sounds. until
hnally there was burst of light, a
blow from tool that shattered the
surrounding rocks; and little fern
fell at the feet Of a man. Such
cold, still little fern, all made of
stone! The pretty green color was
gone, but the leaves We're there. and
even the veins just as they had been
thousands of years before, when the
little fern was fresh and young.
Look here, Harry" said the min.
er, picking up the piece of stone and
handing it to his companion, "your
little boy will be interested in this
FOSSIL"
SO once more the bright sun shone
upon little fern as it was carried to
the miners home. After it's calm,
happy life in the woods, after it's long,
perilous journey, after being shut
away from the day and night for ages,
little fern has now become a house
hold treasure Boston Weekly Bou.