 Section 1 of the story's Mother Nature told her children. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The story's Mother Nature told her children by Jane Andrews. Section 1, the story of the Amber Beats. Do you know Mother Nature? She is to whom God has given the care of the earth and all that grows in her upon it, just as he has given to your mother the care of her family of boys and girls. You may think that Mother Nature, like the famous old woman who lived in Deshu, has so many children that she doesn't know what to do. But you will know better when you become acquainted with her and learn how strong she is and how active, how she can really be in 50 places at once. Taking care of a sick tree or a baby flower just born. And at the same time, building underground palaces, guiding the steps of little travelers setting out on long journeys and sweeping, dusting and arranging her great house, the earth. And all the while, in the midst of her patient and never-ending work, she will tell us the most charming and marvelous stories of ages ago when she was young or of the treasures that lie hidden in the most distant and secret closets of her palace. Just such stories as you all like so well to hear your mother tell when you gather around her in the twilight. A few of these stories, which she has told me, I am about to tell you, beginning with this one. I know a little scotch girl. She lives among the highlands. Her home is hardly more than a hut. Her food, broth and bread. Her father keeps sheep on the hillsides, and instead of wearing a coat, rafts himself in his plate for protection from the cold winds that drive before them great clouds of mist and snow among the mountains. As for Jeannie herself, you must be careful to spell her name with an E.A. For that is scotch fashion. Her yellow hair is bound about with the little snood. Her face is brown by exposure to the weather, and her hands are hardened by work, for she helps her mother to cook and so to spin and weave. One little treasure little Jeannie has, which many a lady would be proud to wear. It is a necklace of amber beads, which the former beads old Elsie calls them. That is the name they went by when she was young. You have perhaps seen amber, and know its rich, sun-shiny color, and its fragrance when rubbed. And do you also know that rubbing will make amber attracting somewhat as a magnet does? Jeannie's beads had all these properties, but some others besides, wonderful and lovely. And it is of those particularly that I wish to tell you. Each bead has inside of it some tiny thing, encased as if it had grown in the amber. And Jeannie is never tired of looking at and wondering about them. Here is one with the delicate bit of ferny moss shut up, as it were in a globe of yellow light. And another is the tiniest Y, his wheat little wings outspread and raised for flight. Again, she can show us a bead lodged in one bead that looks like solid honey, and a little bright wing beetle in another. This one holds two slender pine needles lying across each other, and here we see a single scale of a pine cone, while yet another shows an atom of an acorn cup fit for a fairy's use. I wish you could see the beads, or I cannot tell you the half of their beauty. Now, where do you suppose they came from, and how little scotch Jeannie come into possession of such a treasure? All she knows about it is that her grandfather, Old Kenneth, who cowered now all day in the chimney corner, once, years ago when he was a young lad, went down upon the sea shore after a great storm, hoping to help save something from the wreck of the go-shock that had gone ashore during the night. And there among the slippery seaweeds, his foot had accidentally uncovered a clear, shining lump of amber in which all these little creatures were embedded. Now, Kenneth loved a pretty highland lass, and when she promised to be his bride, he brought her a necklace of amber beads. He had carved them himself out of his lump of amber, working carefully to save in each bead the prettiest insect or moss, and thinking while he toiled hour after hour of the delight with which he should see his bride with him. That bride was Jeannie's grandmother, and when she died last year, she said, Let Jeannie have my labour beads and keep them as long as she lives. But what puzzled Jeannie was how the amber came to be on the sea shore, and, most of all, how the beads and mosses came inside of it. Should you like to know? If you would, that is one of Mother Nature's stories, and she will gladly tell it. Here what she answers to her questions. A time long, long before you were born, long even before any men were living upon the earth. Then these scotch highlands, as you call them, where little Jeannie lives, were covered with forests. There were oaks, poplars, beaches, and pines, and among them one kind of pine, tolled and stately, from which a shining yellow gum flowed, just as you have seen little drops of sticky gum exude from our own pine trees. This beautiful yellow gum was fragrant, and as the thousands of little insects fluttered about it in the warm sunshine, attracted by its pleasant odor, perhaps too by its taste, and once alighted upon it they stuck fast and could not get away, while the great yellow drops oozing out surrounded that last covered them entirely. So too, wind-blown bits of moss, leaves, acorns, cones, and little sticks were soon securely embedded in the fast-flowing gum. And as time went by, it hardened and hardened more and more. And this is amber. That is well-told mother nature, but it does not explain how can a slump of amber came to be on the seashore. Well, then, for the second part of this story. Did you ever hear that in those very old times the land sometimes sank down into the sea, even so deep that the water covered the very mountain tops, and then, after ages, it was slowly lifted up again to sink indeed, perhaps yet again and again. You can hardly believe it, yet I myself was there to see. And I remember well when the great forests of the north of Scotland, the oaks, the poplars, and the amber pines were lowered into the deep sea. There, lying at the bottom of the ocean, the wood and the gum hardened like stone, and only the great storms can disturb them as they lie half-buried in the sand. It was one of those great storms that brought Kenneth's lump of amber to land. If we could only walk on the bottom of the sea, what treasures we might find? End of section one. Section two of the story's mother nature told her children. This is a LibriVox recording, or LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Christine Blashford. The story's mother nature told her children by Jane Andrews. Chapter two, The New Life. It is May, almost the end of May indeed, and the May flowers have finished their blooming for this year. It is growing too warm for those delicate violets and hepaticas who dare to brave even March winds and can bear snow better than summer heats. Down at the edge of the pond the tall water grasses and rushes heads a little in the wind and swinging a little lightly and lazily with the motion of the water. But the water is almost clear and still this morning scarcely rippled and in its beautiful broad mirror reflecting the chestnut trees on the bank and the little points of land that run out from the shore and give foothold to the old pines standing guard day and night, summer and winter to watch up the pond and down. Do you think now that you know how the pond looks in the sunshine of this May morning? If we come close to the edge where the rushes are growing and look down through the clear water we shall see some uncouth and clumsy black bugs crawling upon the bottom of the pond. They have six legs and are covered with a coat of armor laid plate over plate. It looks hard and horny and the insect himself has a dull, heavy way with him and might be called very stupid where it not for his eagerness in catching and eating every little fly and mosquito that comes within his reach. His eyes grow fierce and almost bright and he seizes with open mouth anything suited to his taste. I am afraid you will think he is not very interesting and will not care to make his acquaintance but let me tell you something very wonderful is about to happen to him and if you stay and watch patiently you will see what I saw once and have never forgotten. Here he is crawling in mud under the water this May morning. Out over the pond shoot the flat water boatmen and the water spiders dance and skip as if the pond were a floor of glass while here in there skims a blue dragonfly with his fine, firm wings that look like the thinnest claws but are really wondrously strong for all their delicate appearance. The dull black bug sees all these bright, agile insects and for the first time in his life he feels discontented with his own low place in the mud. A longing creeps through him that is quite different from the customary longing for mosquitoes and flies. I will creep up the stem of this rush, he thinks and perhaps when I reach the surface of the water I can dart like the little flat boatmen or better than all shoot through the air like the blue winged dragonfly but as he crawls toilsomely up the slippery stem the feeling that he has no wings like the dragonfly makes him discouraged and almost despairing. At last, however, with much labour he has reached the surface, has crept out of the water and clinging to the green stem feels the spring air and sunshine all about him. Now let him take passage with the boatmen or ask some of the little spiders to dance. Why doesn't he begin to enjoy himself? Alas! See his sad disappointment! After all this toil, after passing some extended chances of good breakfasts on the way up and spending all his strength on this one exploit he finds the fresh air suffocating him and a most strange and terrible feeling coming over him as his coat of mail which until now was always kept wet shrinks and seems even cracking off while the warm air dries it. Oh! thinks the poor bug, I must die! It was folly in me to crawl up here. The mud and the water were good enough for my brothers and good enough for me too had I only known it and now I am too weak and feel too strangely to attempt going down again up. See how uneasy he grows feeling about in doubt and dismay for a darkness is coming over his eyes. It is the black helmet, a part of his coat of mail. It has broken off at the top and is falling down over his face. A minute more and it drops below his chin and what is his astonishment to find that as his old face breaks away a new one comes in its place larger much more beautiful and having two of the most admirable eyes two I say because they look like two but each of them is made up of hundreds of little eyes. They stand out globe-like on each side of his head and look about over a world unknown and wonderful to the dull black bug who lived in the mud. The sky seems bluer, the sunshine brighter and the nodding grass and flowers more gay and graceful. Now he lifts his new head to see more of the great world and behold as he moves he is drawing himself out of the old suit of armour and from two neat little cases at its sides come two pairs of wings folded up like fans and put away the right time should come. Still half folded they are and must be carefully spread open and smoothed for use. And while he trembles with surprise see how with every movement he is escaping from the old armour and drawing from their sheaths fine legs longer and far more beautifully made and coloured than the old and a slender body that was packed away like a spy-glass and is now drawn slowly out one part after another until at last the dark coat of male dangles empty from the rushes and above it sits long slender body and two pairs of delicate gauzy wings fine and firm as the very ones he had been watching but an hour ago. The poor black bug who thought he was dying was only passing out of his old life to be born into a higher one and see how much brighter and more beautiful it is. And now shall I tell you how months ago the mother dragonfly dropped into the water her tiny eggs which lay there in the mud and by and by hatched out the dark crawling bugs so unlike the mother that she does not know or her children and flying over the pond looks down through the water where they crawl among the rushes and has not a single word to say to them until in due time they find their way up to the air and pass into the new winged life. If you will go to some pond when spring is ending or summer beginning and find among the water grasses such an insect as I have told you of you may see all this for yourselves and you will say with me dear children that nothing you have ever known is more wonderful. End of Section 2 Section 3 of the Stories Mother Nature Told Her Children This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Christine Blashford The Stories Mother Nature Told Her Children by Jane Andrews. Chapter 3 The Talk of the Trees that Stand in the Village Street How still it is! Nobody in the Village Street, the children all at school and the very dogs sleeping lazily in the sunshine. Only a south wind blows lightly through the trees lifting the great fans of the horse-chestnut tossing the slight branches of the elm against the sky like single feathers of a great plume and swinging out fragrance from the heavy hanging linden blossoms. Through the silence there is a little murmur like a low song. It is the song of the trees. Each has its own voice which may be known from all others by the ear that has learned how to listen. The topmost branches of the elm are talking of the sky of those highest white clouds that float like tresses of silver hair in the far blue of the sunrise gold and the rose-coloured sunset that always rest upon them most lovingly. But down deep in the heart of the great branches you may hear something quite different and not less sweet. Peep under my leaves sings the elm tree out at the ends of my broadest branches what hangs there so soft and grey who comes with a flash of wings and gleam of golden breast amongst the dark leaves and sits above the grey hanging nest to sing his full sweet tune who worked there together so happily all the maytime with grey honeysuckle fibres twining the little nest until there it hung securely over the road bound and tied and woven firmly to the slender twigs so slender that the squirrels even cannot creep down for the eggs much less can Jack or Neddie who are so fond of birds nesting ever hope to reach the home of our golden robin there my leaves shelter him like a roof from rain and from sunshine I rock the cradle when the father and mother are away and the little ones cry and in my softest tone I sing to them yet they are never quite satisfied with me but beat their wings and stretch out their heads and cannot be happy until they hear their father the squirrel who lives in the hole where the two great branches part here's what I say and curls up his tail while he turns his bright eyes towards the swinging nest which he can never reach the fanning wind wafts across the road the voice of the old horse chestnut who also has a word to say about the birds nests when my blossoms were fresh white pyramids came a swift flutter of wings about them one day and a dazzlingly beautiful little bird thrust his long delicate bill among the flowers and while he held himself there in the air without touching his tiny feet to twig or stem but only by the swift fanning of long green tinted wings I offered him my best flowers for his breakfast and bowed my great leaves as a welcome to him the dear little thing had been here before while yet the sticky brown buds which wrap up my leaves had not burst open to the warm sunshine he and his mate whose feather dress was not so fine as his gathered the gum from the outside of the warm wool from the inside and I could watch them as they flew away to the maple yonder for then the trees that stand between us had no leaves to hide the maple as they do now back and forth flew the birds from the topmost maple branch to my opening buds and day by day I saw a little nest growing very small and round lined warmly with wool from my buds and thatched all over the outside with bits of lichen gray and green to match what grew on the maple branches about it and this thatch was glued on with the gum from my brown buds when it was dark enough for the cradle of a little princess and the outside was so carefully matched to the tree by lichens that the sharpest eyes from below could not detect it what a safe snug home for the hummingbirds by the time the two tiny eggs were laid I could no longer see the nest for the thick foliage of other trees had built up a green wall between me and it but for many days the mother bird stayed away and the father came alone to drink honey from my blossom cups so I knew that the eggs were hatching under her warm folded wings for I have seen such things in the robins nest and the bluebirds now my flowers are all gone and in their place the nuts are growing in their prickly balls I have nothing to tempt the hummingbird and he never visits me only the yellowbirds hop gaily from branch to branch and the robins come sometimes and the horse chestnut sighed for he missed the hummingbird and he flapped his great leaves in the very face of the linden blossoms and forgot to say excuse me but the linden is now and for many days full of sweetness and will not answer and graciously yes the linden is full of sweetness and sends out the fragrance from his blossoms in through the chamber windows and down upon the people who pass in the street below and he tells all the time his story of how his pink-covered leaf buds opened in the spring mornings and unfolded the fresh green leaves which were so tender and full of green juices that it was no wonder the mother moth had thought the branches were a good place whereon to lay her eggs for as soon as they should be all laid she would die and there would be no one to provide food for her babies when they should creep out so the nice mother moth made a toilsome journey up my great trunk sung the linden and left her eggs where she knew the freshest green leaves would be coming out by the time the young ones should leave the eggs and they came out indeed somewhat to my sorrow for instead of being like their mother sober well-behaved little moths they were green canker worms and such hungry little things that I really began to fear I should have not a whole leaf left upon me when one day they spun for themselves fine silken ropes and swung themselves down from leaf to leaf and from branch to branch and in a day or two were all gone a little flaxen-haired girl sat on the broad doorstep at my feet and caught the canker worms in her white apron she liked to see them hump up their backs and measure off the inches of her white checked apron with their little green bodies and I, although I liked them well enough at first was not sorry to lose them when they went I heard the child's mother telling her that they had come down to make for themselves beds in the earth where they would sleep until the early spring and wake to find themselves grown into moths just like their mothers the tree to lay eggs we shall see when next spring comes if that is so now, since they went, I have done my best to refresh my leaves and keep young and happy and here are my sweet blossoms to prove that I have yet within me vigorous life the elm tree heard what the linden sung and said, very true, very true I too have suffered from the canker worms but I have yet leaves enough left for a beautiful shade and the poor crawling things must surely eat something and the elm bowed gracefully to the linden out of sympathy for him I once heard the voices of the young robins who live in the nest among his highest boughs and he must yet tell to the horse Chesnut how sad it was the other day in the thunderstorm when the wind upset the nest and one little bird was thrown out and killed while the father and mother flew about in the greatest distress until Charlie came, climbed the tree and fitted the nest safely back into its place how much the trees have to say and there is the pine who was born and brought up in the woods, he is always whispering secrets of the great forest and of the river beside which he grew he can't always understand him, he is the poet among them and a poet is always suspected of knowing a little more than anyone else some time I may try to tell you something of what he says but here ends the talk of the trees that stood in the village street End of Section 3 Section 4 of the story's mother nature told her children this is a LibriVox recording or LibriVox recording serving the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Ted Nugent the story's mother nature told her children by Jane Andrews Section 4 how the Indian corn grows the children came in from the field with their hands full of the soft pale green corn silk Annie had rolled her into a burst nest while Willie had dressed his little sister's hair with the long damn dresses until she seemed more like a mermaid with pale blue eyes shining out between the locks of her sea green hair than like our own Alice they brought their treasures to the mother who set on the doorstep of the farmhouse under the tall old M3 that had been growing there ever since her mother was a child she prayed the beauty of the burst nest and kissed the little mermaid to find if her lips tested of salt water but then she said don't break any more of the silk dear children else we shall have no years of corn in the field none to roast before our picnic fires and none to dry and pop at Christmas time next winter now the children wondered at what their mother said that she would tell them how the silk could make the round full kernels of corn and this is the story that the mother told while they all set on the doorstep under the old M when your father broke up the ground with his plan and scattered in the seed corn the crows were watching from the old apple tree and they came down to pick up the corn and indeed carried away a good deal but the day was by the spring showers moistened the earth and the sun shone and so the seed corn swelled and busting open thrashed out two little hens one reaching down to hold itself firmly in the earth and one reaching up to the light and air the first was never very beautiful but certainly quite useful four besides holding the corn firmly in its place it drew up water and food for the whole plant but the sickan spread out two long slender green leaves that wave with every breath of air and seemed to rejoice in every ray of sunshine day by day it grew taller and taller and by and by put our new streamers stronger and stronger until it stood higher than willy's head then at the top came a new kind of bud quite different from those that folded the green streamers and when that opened it show a nodding flower which sway and bow at the top of the stalk like the crown of the whole plant and yet this was not the best that the corn plant could do for lower down and partly hidden by the leaves it had hung out the sickan tassel a pale sea green color like the hair of a little mermaid now every sickan threat was in truth a tiny tube so fine that our eyes cannot see the bore of it the nodding flower that grew so gaily up above there was day by day ripening a golden dust called pollen and every grain of this pollen and they were very small grains indeed knew perfectly well that the sickan threats were tubes and they felt an irresistible desire to enter the shining passage and explore them to the very end so one day when the wind was tossing the whole blossom this way and that the pollen grains danced out down on the soft breeze each one crafting at the open door of a sea green tube down they sleep over the shining floors and what was there delight to find when they reached the end that they had all along been expected and for each one was a little room prepared and sweet food for their nourishment and from this time they resided to go away but remained each in his own place and grew everyday stronger and larger and rounder even as baby in the cradle bear who has nothing to do but grow side by side were the cradles one beyond another in beautiful straight rows and as the pollen grain grew daily larger the cradles also grew for their accommodation and at last they felt themselves really full of sweet delicious life and those who live at the tops of the rows peeped out from the opening of the dry leaves which wrapped them all together and saw a little boy with his father coming through the cold field while yet everything was bidded with dew and the son was castley an hour home the boy carried a basket and the father broke from the corn stalks the full firm ears of sweet corn and heaped the basket full oh mother cried willy that was father and I don't you remember how we used to go out last summer every morning before breakfast to bring in the corn and we must have taken that very year for I remember how the full kernels lay in straight rows sign by sign just as you have told now Alice is breaking her threads of silk and trying to see the tiny opening of the tube and Annie thinks she will look for the pollen grains the very next time she goes to the corn field and of section 4 section 5 of the story's mother nature told her her children this is the LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Ted Newjant the story's mother nature told her children by Jane Andrews section 5 Walter Lillies the stream that crept down from the way has worn a smooth bed for itself in the gravel has watered the farmer's fields and turned the wheels of the old grits mill where the miller tells the stones that grind the farmer's corn but down below here the stream has something else to do it has been working hard up and away from them to them again and as always in life there should be something besides business something beautiful and peaceful so the stream has swept around this corner behind the wooded point of land which hights the mill and spread itself out in the hollow of brown's meadow where a frame of brown says his grandfather used to tell him some Indian weakwamps stood when he was a boy the land has sunk since then and there is something more beautiful than Indian weakwamps there now where the old scores used to see weaving baskets and the pepuses rolled and play is now thick black mud in which are great tangled roots some of them bigger than my arm all winter they lie there under the eyes while the children skate over them in the spring when everything stares with new life they too must wake up so slowly and steadily they begin to put up long stems to reach the surface of the water chambered stems they are each having four passages bleeding up to the air and down to the roots and black mud the walls of these chambers are brown and slimy and each stem bears at its top a slimy bud on the outside brownish green as they push it up through the water for this outer coat is stout and waterproof and can well afford to be unpretending since it carries something very precious wrapped up inside not days but weeks even months it is working upon this hidden treasure before we shall see it or come while we wait can you wake at three o'clock children and while the birds are singing the very best songs go down the road under the elms across the little bridge and through the hamlet of growth at the right it is a mile to walk and you will not be there too early the broad smooth corn that the brook has made for its holiday pleasure is at our feet at its bottom are the tangled roots on the surface among the flat green leaves float those buds that have been so long creeping towards the light one long bright beam from the sun just rising smiles across the meadow and touches the folded buds indeed smiles back in reply so the thick sheath unfolds and behold the whitest various lily cup floats on the water and its golden center smiles back to the sun with many rays we watched only one but perhaps none is willing to be latest in greeting the sun and the pond is already half covered with a snowy fleet of boats fit for the ferries boats under full sail for fairy land laden with beauty and fragrance and this is what the dark mud can send forth this is one of mother nature's hidden treasures perhaps she hunt something as white and beautiful in all that seem dark and ugly if only we will wait and watch for it then at the very dawn of day to look for it the lilies will stay with us now that at last they are here all through the rest of the summer and even into the warm sunny days of earliest October but it will only be a few who stay so late as that and where have the others gone meanwhile you see they are know that lilies floating founded and de-keying among the pads the stem that found its way so surely to the upper world knows not less surely the way back again and when its white blossom has opened for the last time and then wrap this green cloak about it again not to be unfounded the chamber stem coils backward and carries it safely to the bottom it sit may ripen in the soft dark mud and prepare for another summer end of section 5 section 6 of the story's mother nature told her children this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Ruth Golding the story's mother nature told her children by Jane Andrews section 6 the carrying trade who wants to engage in the carrying trade come Lottie and Lula and Nina and Mary all bring your maps and we will play merchants and see what is meant by the carrying trade Lottie shall have the embark-reset and sail from Boston to Calcutta Lula the steamer North Star from New York for Liverpool Mary shall take the seagull from Philadelphia to San Francisco and Nina is owner of the racer that makes voyages up the Mediterranean are we all ready for our little game Lottie begins and she must find out what she has to send to Calcutta don't send indigo or saltpeter or gunny bags or ginger for even should you have these articles to spare Calcutta has an abundance at home and you must discover something that she needs but does not possess ice says Lottie yes that is just the thing because Calcutta has a hot climate that does not make her own ice so load the rosette with great blocks well packed and start at once for your voyages long and now we will go with Lula to the North River Pier where her great steamer lies and see what she intends to carry to Liverpool bales of cotton barrels of flour of beef and of petroleum all very good so goodbye to her in a few weeks we will see what she brings back come Mary what has Philadelphia for San Francisco oh what a load the seagull must take of machinery steam engines tobacco and oil and such a quantity of other things that the seagull will need to make many voyages before she can take them all we load her at this busy wharf where the coal vessels are passing in for New York and Boston and the steamers are loading for Europe and the little coasters crowding in one after another and away we go for the voyage round the horn where the seagull will meet her namesakes and perhaps some stormy winds besides meantime Nina's raster has been stored full of cotton cloths and hardware and has raced out of Boston Harbour so swiftly that fair winds will take her to Gibraltar in three weeks and so you have all engaged in the carrying trade but as yet you have carried only one way to complete the game we must wait for Lottie to bring the rosette safely home with salt peter and indigo and hides and ginger and seersuckers and gunny cloth and the North Star must steam her quick way across the Atlantic and return with salt and hardware anchors steel, woolens and linens Mary must beat her way round Cape Horn and home again with wool and gold and silver and the swift racer must quickly bring the figs and prunes and raisins and the oranges and lemons that will spoil if they are too long on the way so children may play at the carrying trade and so their fathers and uncles may work at it in earnest and so also hundreds of little workers are busy all the world over in another carrying trade which keeps you and me alive from day to day and yet we scarcely think at all how it is going on or stop to thank the hands that feed us England and Italy are kingdoms and the United States a republic and they all engage in this business and are constantly sending goods one to another but there are other kingdoms not put down on any map that are just as busy as they and in the same sort of work too the earth is one kingdom the water another and there is the great republic of the gases surrounding us on every side only we can't see it because its inhabitants have the fairy gift of being invisible to us each of these kingdoms has products to export and is all ready to trade with the others if only someone will supply the means just as the Frenchmen might stand on their shores and hold out to us wines and prunes and silks and muslins and we might stand on our shores and hold out gold and silver to them and yet could make no exchange because there were no ships to carry the goods across ah you may say that is not at all the case here for the earth, the air and the water are all close to each other and close to us and there is no need of ships we can exchange hand to hand but here comes a difficulty read carefully and I think you will understand it here is Ruth a little growing girl who wants phosphate of lime to build bones with for as she grows of course her bones must grow too very well I answer there is plenty of phosphate of lime in the earth she can have all she wants yes but does Ruth want to eat earth? do you? does anybody? certainly not so although the food she needs is beside her even under her feet she cannot get it any more than we can get the French goods accepting by means of the carrying trade where now are the little ships that she'll bring to Ruth the phosphate of lime she needs and cannot reach although it lies in her own father's field let me show you how her father can build the ships that will bring it to her he must go out into that field and plant wheat seeds and as they grow every little ear and kernel gathers up phosphate of lime and becomes a tiny ship freighted with what his little daughter needs when that wheat is ground into flour and made into bread Ruth will eat what she couldn't have been willing to taste unless the useful little ships of the wheat field had brought it to her now let us send to the Republic of the gases for some supplies for we cannot live without carbon and oxygen and although we do breathe in oxygen with every breath we draw we also need to receive it in other ways so the sugarcane and the maple trees engage in the carrying trade for us taking in carbon and oxygen by their leaves and sending it through their bodies and when it reaches us it is sugar and a very pleasant food to most of you I daresay but we cannot take all we need of these gases in the form of sugar and there are many other ships that will bring it to us the corn will gather it up and offer it in the form of meal or of cornstarch puddings or the grass will bring it to the cow since you and I refuse to take it from the grass ships but the cow offers it to us again in the form of milk and we do not think of refusing or the butcher offers it to us in the form of beef and we do not say no Alice wants some India rubber shoes do you think the kingdoms of air and water can send her a pair? the India rubber tree in South America will take up water and separate from it hydrogen of which it is partly composed and adding to this carbon from the air will make a gum which we can work into shoes and balls buttons, tubes, cucks, cloth and a hundred other useful articles then again you and I all of us must go to the world of gases for nitrogen to help build our bodies to make muscle and blood and skin and hair and so the peas and beans load their boat shaped seeds full and bring it to a so fresh and excellent that we enjoy eating it this useful carrying trade has also another branch well worth looking at you remember hearing how many soldiers were sick in wartime at the south but perhaps you do not know that their best medicine was brought to them by a south American tree gathered up from the earth and air bitter juices to make what we call quinine then there is camphor which I'm sure you have all seen sent by the east Indian camphor tree to cure you when you were sick and gum arabic and all the other gums and castor oil and most of the other medicines that you don't at all like all brought to us by the plants I might tell you a great deal more of this but I will only stop to show a little what we give back in payment for all that is brought when England sends us hardware and woollen goods she expects us to repay her with cotton and sugar that are just as valuable to us as hardware and woollen to her but see how differently we treat the kingdoms from which the plant ships are all the time bringing us food and clothes and medicines etc all we return is just so much as we don't want to use we take in good fresh air and breathe out impure and bad we throw back to the earth whatever will not nourish and strengthen us and yet no complaint comes from the faithful plants do you wonder I will let you into the secret of this the truth is that what is worthless to us is really just the food they need and they don't at all know how little we value it ourselves it is like the Chinese of whom we might buy rice or silk or tea and pay them in rats which we are glad to be rid of while they consider them good food now I have given you only a peep into this carrying trade but it is enough to show you how to use your own eyes to learn more about it look about you and see if you can't tell as good a story as I have done or a better one if you please end of section 6 recording by Ruth Golding section 7 of the story's mother nature told her children this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org the stories mother nature told her children by Jane Andrews section 7 sea life chapter 1 the starfish the starfish takes a summer journey once there was a little starfish and he had five fingers and five eyes one at the end of each finger so that he might be said to have at least one power at his fingers ends and he had I can't tell you how many little feet but being without legs you see he couldn't be expected to walk very fast the feet couldn't move one before the others as yours do they could only cling like little suckers by which he pulled himself slowly along from place to place nevertheless he was very proud of this accomplishment and sometimes his pride led him to an unjust contempt for his neighbors as you will see by and by he was very particular about his eating and besides his mouth which lay in the center of his body he had a little scarlet covered sieve through which he strained the water he drank for he couldn't think of taking in common sea water with everything that might be floating in it that would do for crabs and lobsters and other common people but anybody who wears such a lovely purple coat and has brothers and sisters dressed in crimson feels a little above such living now one day this starfish set out on a summer journey not to the seaside where you and I went last year of course not for he was already there no he thought he would go to the mountains he could not go to the rocky mountains nor to the Catskill mountains nor to the White Mountains for with all his accomplishments he had not yet learned how to live in any drier place than a pool among the rocks or the very wettest sand at low tide so if he traveled to the mountains it must be to the mountains of the sea perhaps you didn't know that there are mountains in the sea I have seen them however and I think you have too their tops if nothing more what is that little rocky ledge where the lighthouse stands but the stony top of a hill rising from the bottom of the sea and what are the pretty green islands with their clusters of trees and grassy slopes but the summits of hills lifted out of the water in many parts of the sea where the water is deep are hills and even high mountains whose tops do not reach the surface and we should not know where they are were it not for the sailors and measuring the depths of the sea sometimes sail right over these mountain tops and touch them with their sounding lines the starfish set out one day about 500 years ago to visit some of these mountains of the sea if he had depended upon his own feet for getting there it would have taken him to this day I verily believe but he had no thought of walking then you or I should think of walk to China you shall see how he traveled a great train was coming down from the northern seas not a railroad train but a water train sweeping on like a river in the sea this track lay along the bottom of the ocean and above you could see no sign of it any more than you can see the cars while they go through the tunnel under the street the principal passengers by this train were icebergs who were in the habit of coming down on it every year in order to reduce their weight by a little exercise for they grow so very large and heavy up there in the north that some sort of treatment is really necessary to them when summer comes I only call the icebergs the principal passengers because they take up so much room for thousands and millions of other travelers come with them from the white bears asleep on the birds and brought away quite against the will to the tiniest creatures rocking in the cradles of the ripples or cleaning the delicate branches of the sea mosses I said you could see no sign of the great water train from above that was not quite true for many of the icebergs are tall enough to lift their heads far up into the air and shine with a cold glittering splendor in the sunlight and you can tell by the course in which they sail which way the train is going deep down in the sea the starfish took passage on this train he didn't start at the beginning of the road but got in at one of the way stages somewhere off of Cape Cod fell in with some of the friends going south and had all together a pleasant trip of it no weary some stopping places to feed either engine passengers for this train moves by a power that needs no feeding on the way and the passengers are much in the habit of eating their fellow travelers by way of frequent lunches a course of a few weeks our five finger traveler is safely dropped in the Caribbean sea and if you do not know where that sea is I wish you would take your map to America and find it and then you can see the course of the journey and understand the story better this Caribbean sea is full of mountains as New Hampshire and Vermont are but none of them have caps of snow like that which Mount Washington sometimes wears and some of them are built up in a very odd way as you will presently see now the starfish is floating in the warm soft water among the mountains turning up first one eye and then the other to see the wonders about him or looking all around before and behind and both sides at once as you can't do if you try ever so hard while his fifth eye is on the lookout for sharks besides and he meets with a soft little body much smaller than himself and not half so handsomely dressed who invites him to visit her relatives who live by the millions in this mountain region and come quickly if you please she says for I begin to feel as if I must fix myself somewhere and I should like if possible to settle down near my brothers and sisters on the Roncador bank Chapter 2 Coral Town on Roncador bank where is Roncador bank and who are the little settlers there if you want me to answer this question you must go back with me or rather think back with me over many thousands of years and look it into the same Caribbean sea we shall find in its southwestern part a little hill formed of mud and sand and reaching not nearly so high as the top of the water not far from it float some little soft jelly like bodies exactly resembling the one who spoke to the starfish just now they are immigrants looking for a new home they seem to take a fancy to this hill and fix themselves rock along its base until as more and more of them come by they form a little circle around it and the hill stands up in the middle while far above the whole blue waves are tossing in the sunlight how do you like this little circular town seen in the picture it is the beginning of Coral Town just as the landing of the pilgrims at Plymouth beginning of Massachusetts now we will see how it grows first of all notice this curious fact that each settler after once choosing a home never after stirs from that spot but from day to day fastened himself more and more firmly to the rock where he first stuck the part of his body touching the rock hardens to stone and in the months and years go by the sides of his body too are into stone and yet he is still alive eating all the time with a little mouth at his top taken in the seawater without a strainer and getting consequently tiny bits of lime in it which once taken in go build up the little body into a sort of limestone castle just as if one of the knights in armor of whom we read in the old stories had instead of putting on his steel corset and helmet and breastplate turned his own flesh and bones into armor how safe would that be so these inhabitants of Coral Town were safe from all the fishes and other fierce devours of little sea creatures for who wants to swallow a male clad warrior however small and their settlement was undisturbed and grew from year to year until it formed a pretty high wall but before going any further you may like to know that these settlers were all of the polyp family fathers and mothers brothers and sisters, uncles and aunts all were polyps and this is the way the families increased after the first comers were fairly settled and pretty thoroughly turned stone little buds looking somewhat like the smallest leaf buds of the springtime began to grow out of their edges these were their children at least one kind of their children for they had yet another kind also coming from eggs from the water like the first settlers these ladders we might call the free children or wanderers while a former could be named the fixed children but even the wanderers come back after a short time and settled beside their parents as you remember the one who met the starfish was about to do it is not very easy for you or me to think back years to the very beginning of coral town nor is it less difficult to realize how many many years were passing while the little town grew even as far as I told you the old great grandfathers great grandmothers had died but they left their stone bodies still standing as the support and assistance to the descendants who had built above them the walls had risen not like the walls of a common stone and brick but all alive and busy building themselves day after day and year after year until now at the time of the starfish's visit the topmost towers could sometimes catch a gleam of sunlight when the tide was low and when storms rolled the great waves that way they would dash against the little castles breaking themselves into snowy spray and crumbling away at the same time the tiny walls that had been the polyps work of years do you think that was too bad and quite discouraging to the workers it does seem so but you will see how the good god who is their loving father just the same as he is ours had a grand purpose in letting the waves break down their houses just as he always does in all the disappointments he sends to us wait till you finish the story and tell me if you don't think so and now let us see what the starfish thought of the little town and its inhabitants these are your houses he said why don't you come out of them in the world these are not our houses but ourselves we can't come out and we don't want to we are here to build and building is all we care to do as we are seeing the world that is all very well for those who have eyes but we have none then the starfish turned away and contempt from such creatures people of neither taste nor ability nor eyes no feet no water strainers poor little useless things what good are they in the world with their stupid line building of which they think so much and he worked himself off into a branch water train that was setting that way and without so much as bidding the polyps goodbye turned his back to the little town and presently found a fellow passenger fine enough to absorb all his attention a passenger I say but we shall find it rather a group of passengers in their own pretty boat some curled in spiral coils some trailing like swimmers behind some snuggly in sconce inside but all brilliant colors and gay bearing that even the starfish felt his inferiority and wishing to make friends with so fine a neighbor he whirled a tempting morsel of foods towards one of the swimming party and politely offered it to him no I thank you replied the swimmer I don't eat my sister does the eating turning to another of the gay company with the same offer he was answered thank you the eaters are at the other side I only lay eggs what strange people thought the starfish but with all his learning he didn't know everything and had never heard how people sometimes live in communities and divide the work as suits are fancy while we leave him wandering let us go back to cruel town the crumbling bits beaten off by the waves floated about filling all the chinks of the wall while the rough edges at the top caught long ribbons of seaweed and sometimes drifting wood from wrecked vessels and then the sea washed up sand in great heaps against the walls building buttresses for them do you know what buttresses are? if you don't I will leave you to find out and the polyps who do not know how to live in the light and air had all died or those who were wanderers had emigrated some new place poor little things their useless lives had ended and what good had they done in the world Chapter 3 Little Sunshine and now let us look at cruel town once more it is the first day of June 1865 the sun is low in the west and lights up the crest of the long line of breakers that are everywhere curling and dashing among the topmost turrets of the coral walls but here is something new and strange indeed for this region along one of the ledges of rock fitted as it were into a cradle lies the great steamship golden rule a vessel full 250 long and holding 6 or 700 people her mast are gone and so are the tall chimneys from which the smoke of her engine used to rise like a cloud the rocks have torn a great hole through her strong planks and the water is washing in while the biggest waves that roll that way lift themselves in mountainous curves and sweep over the deck this fine gray vessel sailed out of New York harbor a week ago to carry all these people to gray town on their way to California and here she is now in gray town and the poor people nearly 100 miles away from land are waiting through the weary hours while they see the ocean swallowing up their vessel breaking it and tearing it to pieces and they do not know how soon they may find themselves drifting in the sea but although they may be 100 miles from land they are just as near to God as they ever were and he is even at this moment taking most loving care of them and the more sheltered parts of deck are men and women holding on by ropes and bulwarks they are looking one way out over the water what are they watching for see it comes now in sight and only a black speck in the golden path of sunlight no it is a boat sent out 2 hours ago to search for some island where the people might find refuge when the ship goes to pieces do you wonder that the men and women are watching eagerly look it has reached the outer ledge of rock the men spring out of it waving their hats and shouting yes and the men on board answer a loud hurrah while the women cannot back their tears what land have they discovered you could hardly call it land it is only a larger ledge of coral built up just out of reach of the waves its crevices filled infirmly with broken bits of rock and drifts of sand but it seems today the ship directs people more beautiful than the loveliest woods and meadows due to you and me it would be too long a story if I should tell you how the people were moved from the wreck to this little harbor of refuge lowered over the vessel side with ropes taken first to a raft which had been made of broken parts of the vessel and the next day in little boats you can picture of it in your mind of the boats full of people and the sailors rowing through the breakers and the great sea birds coming to meet their strange visitors peering curiously at them as if they wondered what kind of new creatures these were without wings or beaks and you must see in the very first boat Little May Warner three years and a half old with her sunny hair all wet with spray and her blue eyes wide open to see all the wonders about her for May doesn't know what danger is even while on the wreck she clapped her little hands in delight to see the great curling crest of the waves and now she has seen her merry songs to the sea birds and laughing in their funny faces and fairly shouting with joy as at landing she rides to the shore perched high on the shoulder of sailor Jack while he wades knee deep through the water so we have come to a second settlement of Coral Town first the polyps then the men, women and children so the good father teaches all his creatures to help each other here the tiny polyps have built an island for people who are so much larger and stronger than themselves and the seeming destruction of their upper walls was only a better preparation for the reception of these distinguished visitors the birds too are helping them to food for every little cave the rock is full of eggs and now should you like to see how Little May Warner helps them in an even better way did you ever fall asleep on the floor and waking find yourself aching and stiff because it was so hard then you know in part what hard beds rocks make and in a hot sunny day if you often been glad to keep under the trees or even to stay in the house for shade then you can understand a little how hot it must have been on Rancador Island where there were no trees nor houses and haven't you sometimes when you were very hot and tired and hungry and had perhaps also been kept waiting who didn't come haven't you felt a little cross and fretful and impatient so that nothing seemed pleasant to you and you seemed pleasant to nobody now shouldn't you think that there was a great danger that these people on the island in the hot sun tired, hungry and waiting day and night for some vessel to come and take them to their homes again without feeling at all sure that any such vessel should ever come shouldn't you think there was danger of there becoming cross and fretful and impatient and if one begins to say oh how tired I am and how hard the rocks are and how little dinner I've had how hot the sun is and what shall we ever do waiting here so long and how shall we ever get home again don't you see that all would begin to be discouraged and sometimes on this island it did happen just so first one would be discouraged and then another as soon as you begin to feel in this way you know at once everything grows even worse than it was before the sun feels hotter the rocks harder the water tastes more disagreeably and the crab claws less palatable but in the midst of all the trouble may would come tripping over the rocks a little sunburnt girl now with tattered clothes and bare feet and she would bring that shell or the lovely rose colored sea mosses and tell her funny little story of where she found them the discontented people would gather round her she would give a sailor kiss to one and a French kiss to another and best of all a Yankee kiss with both arms round his neck to her own dear father and then somehow or other the discontent and the trouble would be gone for at least a little while just as the clouds sometimes seems to melt away in the sunshine and so may Warner carried the name of little sunshine if anybody had picked up driftwood enough to make a fire and could get an old battered kettle and some water to make soup fish little sunshine must be invited to dinner for half the enjoyment would be wanting without her if a great black cloud came up threatening the shower the roughest men on the island forgot his own discomfort and make an attempt to keep little sunshine safe from the rain and so in a thousand ways she cheered the weary days making everybody happier for having her there do you think there are any children who would have made the people less happy by being there who would have complained and fretted and been selfish and disagreeable ten days go by so slowly that they seem more like weeks or months than like days the people have suffered from the rain from heat, from want of food they are very weak now some of them can hardly stand can you imagine how they feel when in the early morning two great gun boats come into sight making straight for their island as fast as a strong steam engines will take them can you think how tenderly and carefully they are taken on board fed with broth and wine and nursed back to health and strength and do not forget the little treasures that go in maize pocket the bed of coral the tinted seashells and ruby colored mosses and nested among them all and chief in her regard a little five fingered star spiny and dry but still showing a crimson coat and dots which mark the places of five eyes and a little scarlet water strainer now of no further use to the owner do you remember our old friend the starfish well this is his great great great great grandchild in a week or two more the rescued people have all reached California and gone their separate ways never to meet again but all carry in their hearts the memory of little sunshine who lighten their troubles and cheered their darkest days end of section 7 section 8 of the stories mother nature told her children this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org the stories mother nature told her children by Jane Andrews section 8 what the frost giants did to nanny's run the frost giants do you believe in giants no do you say well listen to my story which is a really true one and then answer my question many hundreds of years ago certain people who lived in the north and were therefore called north men had a strange idea of the form and situation of the earth they thought it was a flat circular piece of land surrounded by a great ocean and that this ocean was again surrounded by a wall of snow covered mountains where lived the race of frost giants I have seen a pretty picture of this world of theirs with a lovely rainbow bridge arching up over the sea to the earth and a great coiled serpent holding his tail in his mouth lying in mid ocean like a ring around the land perhaps you will someday read about it all but at present we have only to do with the frost giants for I want to tell you that although no one now thinks of believing about the serpent or the flat earth or the rainbow bridge most giants still live and their home is really among the mountains you may call them by what name you like and we may all know certainly that they are not what the old north men believe them to be but are God's workmen a part of nature's family employed to work in the great garden of the world but whenever we look at their work we cannot fail to admit that to do it needed a giant strength and so they deserve their title have you sometimes seen great boulder stones as big as a small house that stand alone by themselves in some field or on some seashore where no other rocks are near well the frost giants carried these boulders about and dropped them down miles away from their homes as you might take a pocket full of pebbles and drop them along the road as you walk sometimes they roll great rocks down the mountain sides playing a desperate game of ball with each other sometimes they are sent to make a bridge over Niagara Falls or to build a dam across a mountain torrent in an hour's time now and then they have to rake off a steep mountain side as you might a garden bed and sometimes to bury a whole village so quickly that the poor inhabitants do not know what strange hand brought such sudden destruction upon them their deeds often seem to be cruel and we cannot understand their meaning but we shall some time know that the loving father who sent them orders nothing for our hurt but has always a loving purpose though it may be hidden while I thus introduced to you the frost giants let me also present their tiny brethren and sisters the frost fairies who always accompany them on their expeditions and however terrible is the deed that has to be done these little people adorn it with the most lovely handiwork tiny flowers and crystals and veils of delicate lacework fringes and spangles and star work and carving so that nothing is so hard and ugly and bare that they cannot beautify it now that you are introduced you will perhaps like to join a frost party that started out to work one day in the early spring of 1861 from their homes among the Olympic mountains nannies run can you imagine a beautiful oval shaped bay almost encircled by a long arm of sand stretching out from the mainland in its deep water the largest vessels might ride at anchor but at the time of my story a lonelier place could scarcely be found now and then he and canoes glided over the water and at long intervals some vessel from the great island away yonder to the north visited the little settlement upon the shore of the bay it is indeed a very little settlement a few houses clustered together upon the sandy beach close to the blue water behind the houses rises a cliff crowned with great fir trees standing tall and dark in thick ranks making a dense forest and beyond this forest cold snow-covered mountains lift their peaks against the sky a fitting home for the frost giants three streams straying from the far away mountains and fed by their melted snows and hidden springs find their way through the forest leap and tumble over the cliff and passing through the little settlement reach the sea the people who live here call these little streams runs and one of them is nanny's run and now who is nanny? why nanny is nanny Dwight a little girl not yet five years old who lives in the small square house standing under the cliff she sits even now on the doorstep and her red dress looks like one gay flower brightening the somber shadows of the furs her father and mother came here to live when she was but a baby and before there was a single house built in the place and it is out of compliment to her that one of the streams has been named nanny's run while nanny sits on the doorstep and looks out at the sea watching for the vessel that will bring her father home from victoria we will go through the forest and up the mountain sides till we find the home of the frost giants and see what they are about today they have been working all winter but not quite so busily is now for since yesterday they have cracked that big rock in two and dug the great cave under the hill and now they are gathered in council on the mountain side that overlooks a dashing little stream as we follow this stream from the seashore we happen to know that it is no other than nanny's run and as we have already begun to prepare for the little girl and therefore her namesake we are anxious to know what the giants think of doing we have not long to wait before we shall see and here too for a great creaking and cracking begins and while we gaze astonished the mountain side begins to slide and presently with a rush and a roar dashes into the stream with a huge dam of earth and rocks and trees what will the stream do now for a moment the water leaps into the air all foam and sparkle as if it would jump over the barrier and find its way to the sea at any rate but this proves entirely unsuccessful and at last after whirling and tumbling trying to creep under trying to leave over it settles itself quietly in its prison as if to think about the matter now if you will stay and watch it day after day you will see what good result will come from this waiting for every hour more and more water is running to its aid and as its forces increase we begin to feel sure that although it can either pass over nor under it will some day be strong enough to break through the frost giants dam and the day comes at last summoning all its waters to the attack it makes a breach in the great earth wall and in a strong grand column as high as this room marches away towards the sea as we have the wings of thought to travel with let us hurry back to the settlement and see where nanny is now and tell the people if we only can what a wall of water is marching down upon them for you see the little channel that used to hold nanny's run is not a quarter large enough for this torrent that has gathered so long behind the dam peep in at the window and see how nanny stands at the kitchen table cutting out little cakes from a bit of dough that her mother has given her she is all absorbed in her play and her mother has gone to look into the oven at the nicely browning loaves oh, don't we wish the house had been built up on the cliff among the fir trees safe above the reach of the water but alas here it stands just in the path that the torrent will take and we have no power to tell of the danger that is approaching Mrs. Dwight turns from the oven and passing the window on her way to the table suddenly sees the great wall of water only a few rods from her house with one step she reaches the bedroom, seizes the blankets from the bed, wraps nanny in them and with the little girl on one arm grasps Frankie's hand she is carried to run beside her opens the door nearest the cliff and almost flies up its steep side five minutes afterwards sitting breathless on the roots of an old tree with her children safe beside her she sees the whole shore covered with surging water and the houses swept into the bay tossing and drifting there like boats in a stormy sea and this is what the frost giants did to nanny's run the Indians what will nanny do now here in our New England towns it would seem hard enough to have one's house swept away before one's eyes but then you know you could take the next train of cars and go to your aunt in Boston or your uncle in New York to stay until a new house could be prepared for you but here is nanny hundreds and thousands of miles away from any such help for there are not only no railroads but not even common roads nor horses nor wagons nevertheless there are neighbors who will bring help you remember reading in your history how when our great-great-grandfathers came to this country to live they found it occupied by Indians the Indians are all gone from our part of the country now but out in the far northwest where nanny lives they still have their wigwams and canoes they still dress in blankets and wear feathers on their heads and in that particular part of the country lives a tribe called the Flatheads they take this odd name because of a fashion they have of binding a board upon the top of the child's head while he is yet very young in order that he may grow up with a flattened head which is considered a mark of beauty among these savages just a small feeder so considered you know the Flatheads are nanny's only neighbors and perhaps you would consider them rather undesirable friends but when I tell you how they came at once with blankets and food and all sorts of friendly offers of shelter and help you will think that some white people might well take a lesson from them they had been in the habit of bringing venison and salmon to the settlement for sale and when nanny's mother tells them oh no it is a potluck which in their language means a present happily the warm weather is approaching and a little girl who has lived out of doors so much does not find it unsafe to sleep in the hammock which Hunter has slung for her among the trees or even on the ground rolled in an Indian blanket and when her shoes wear out she can safely run barefooted in the woods or on the sand before many weeks have passed some of the tall fir trees are cut down and a new house is built this time safely perched on top of the cliff and so far as I know the frost giants have never succeeded in touching it LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Adam Carroll the story's mother nature told her children by Jane Andrews section 9 how Quercus Alba went to explore the underworld Quercus Alba lay on the ground looking up at the sky he lay in a little brown rustic cradle which will be pretty for any baby but will especially become into his shining bronze complexion for although his name Alba is the Latin word for white he did not belong to the white race he was trying to play with his cousins coxinia and rubra but they were two or three yards away from him not one of the three dared to roll any distance for fear of rolling out of his cradle so it wasn't a lively play as you may easily imagine presently rubra who was a sturdy little fellow hardly afraid of anything summoned courage to roll full half a yard and having come within speaking distance began to tell how his elder brother had that very morning started on the grand underground tour which to the Quercus family is what going to Europe would be for you and me coxinia thought the account very stupid said his brothers had all been and he should go to some time he supposed and giving a little shrug of his shoulders which had his cradle rocking fell asleep in the very face of his visitors not so Alba this was all news to him grand news he was young and inexperienced and moreover full of roping fancies so he lifted his head as far as he dared not a delightedly as rubra described the departure and when his cousin ceased speaking asked eagerly and what will he do there do said rubra why he will do just what everybody else does who goes on the grand tour what a foolish fellow you are to ask such a question now this was no answer at all as you see plainly and yet little alba was quite abashed by it and dared not push the question further for fear of displaying his ignorance never thinking that we children are not born with our heads full of information on all subjects and that the only way to fill them is to push our questions until we are utterly satisfied with the answers and that no one has reason to feel ashamed of ignorance which is not now his own fault but will soon become so if he hushes his questions for fear of showing it here alba made his first mistake there is only one way to correct a mistake of this kind and it is so excellent a way that it even brings you out at the end wiser than the other course could have done alba I am happy to say resolved at once on this course if said he rubra does not choose to tell me about the grand tour I will go and see for myself it was a brave resolve for a little fellow like him he lost no time preparing to carry it out but on pushing against the gate that led to the underground road he found that the frost had fastened it securely and he must wait for a warmer day in the meantime afraid to ask any more questions he yet kept his ears open to gather any scraps of information that might be useful for his journey listening ears can always hear and alba very soon began to learn from the old trees overhead from the dry rustling leaves around him and from the little chipping birds that chatted together in the sunshine some said the only advantage of the grand tour was to make one a perfect and accomplished gentleman others that all the useful arts were taught abroad and no one who wished to improve the world would stay at home another year old grandfather rubra standing tall and grand and stretching his naughty arms as if to give force to his words said of all arts the art of building is the noblest and that can only be learned by those who take the grand tour therefore all my boys have been sent long ago and already many of my grandsons have followed them then there was a whisper among the leaves all very well old rubra but did any of your sons or grandsons ever come back from the grand tour there was no answer indeed the leaves hadn't spoken loudly enough for the old gentleman to hear for he was known to have a fiery temper and it was scarcely safe to offend him but the little brown chipping bird said one to another no no no they never came back they never came back and he chilled through alba's heart but he still held to his purpose and in the night a warm and friendly rain melted the frozen gateway and he boldly rolled out of his cradle forever and slipping through the portal was lost to sight his mother looked for her baby his brothers and cousins rolled over and about and searched for him rubra began to feel sorry for the last scornful words he had said and would have petted his little cousin with all his heart if he could only have had him once again never again seen by his old friends and companions the underworld how dark it is here and how difficult for one to make his way through the thick atmosphere so thought little alba as he pushed and pushed slowly into the soft mud presently a busy hum sounded all about him and becoming accustomed to the darkness he could see little forms moving swiftly and industriously to and fro you children who live above and play about on the hillsides have no idea what is going on all the while under your feet how the dwarfs and the fairies are working there weeding moss carpets and grass blades forming and painting flowers and scarlet mushrooms tending and nursing all manner of delicate things which have yet to grow strong enough to push up and see the outside life and learn to bear its cold winds and rejoice in its sunshine while alba was seeing all this he was still struggling on but very slowly then knocked his head upon a sharp stone and finally bruised and sore tired and quite in despair he sighed a great sigh and declared he could go no farther at that two odd little beings sprang to his side the one brown is the earth itself with eyes like diamonds for brightness and depth of little fingers cunning in all works of skill pulling off his wisp of a cap and making a grotesque little bow he asked will you take a guide for the underworld tour that I will said alba for I no longer find myself able to move a step haha laughed the dwarf of course you can't move in that great body the ways are too narrow you must come out of yourself before you can get on in this journey put out your foot now and I will show you where to step out of myself cried alba why that is to die my foot did you say I haven't any feet I was born into cradle and always lived in it until now I can roll haha again laughed the dwarf hear him talk this is the way with all of them no feet does he say why he has a thousand if he only knew it hands too more than he can count ask him sister and see what he will say to you with that a soft little boy said cheerfully give me your hand that I may lead you on the upper part of your journey for poor little fellow it is indeed true that you do not know how to live out of your cradle and we must show you the way encouraged by this kindly speech alba turned a little toward the speaker and was about to say as his mother had long ago taught him that he should in all difficulties I'll try when a little cracking noise startled the whole company and hardly knowing what he did alba thrust out threw a slit in his shiny brown skin a little foot reaching downward to follow the dwarf's lead and a little hand extending upward quickly clasped by that of a fairy who stood smiling and lovely in her fair green garments with a tender tiny grass blade binding back her golden hair oh what a thrill went through alba as he felt his new possession a hand and a foot a thousand such had they not said what it all meant he could only wonder but the one real possession was at least certain and in that he began to feel that all things were possible and now shall we see what the dwarf led him and where the fairy and what was actually done in the underground tour the dwarf had need of his brighter eyes and his skillful hands for the soft tiny foot entrusted to him was a mere baby that had to find its way through a strange dark world and what was more it must not only be guided but also fed and tended carefully so the bright eyes go before and the brown fingers dig out a roadway and the foot that is learned to trust its guide utterly follows on there is no longer any danger he runs against no rocks he loses his way among no tangled roots and the hard earth seems to open gently before him leading him to the fields where his own best food lies and to hidden springs of sweet fresh water do you wonder what I say the foot must be fed aren't your feet fed to be sure your feet have no mouths of their own but doesn't the mouth and your face eat for your whole body hands and feet, ears and eyes and all the rest else how do they grow the only difference here between you and alba is that his foot has mouths of its own and as it wanders on through the earth and finds anything good for food eats both for itself and for the rest of the body for I must tell you that as the little foot progresses it does not take the body with it but only grows longer and longer and longer until while one end remains at home fastened to the body the other end has traveled a distance such as will be counted miles by the atoms of people who live in the underworld and moreover the foot no longer goes on alone others have come by tens even by hundreds to join it and alba begins to understand what the dwarf meant by thousands thus the feet travel on running some to this side, some to that here digging through a bed of clay and there burying themselves in a soft sand hill taking a mouthful of carbon here and a nitrogen there but what are these two strange articles of food nothing at all like bread and butter you think different indeed they seem but you will one day learn that bread and butter are made in part of these very same things and they are just as useful to alba as your breakfast dinner and supper are to you for just as bread and butter and other food build your body so carbon and nitrogen are going to build his and you will presently see what a fine large strong body they can make then perhaps you will be better able to understand what they are shall we leave the feet to travel their own way for a while and see what the fairy has left a little hand quirkus alba's new sight of the upper world it was a soft helpless little baby hand its bolted fingers lay listlessly in the fairy's gentle grasp now we will go up she said he had thought he was going down and he had heard the chipping bird say he would never come back again but he had no will to resist the gentle motion which seemed after all to be exactly what he wanted so he presently found himself lifted out of the dark earth feeling the sunshine again and stirred by the breeze that rustled the dry leaves that lay all about him here again were all his old companions the chipping birds his cousins old grandfather rubra and best of all his dear mother but the odd thing about it all was that nobody seemed to know him even his mother though she stretched her arms torred him turned her head away looking here and there for her lost baby and never seeing how he stood gazing up into her face now he began to understand what the chipping bird said they never came back but they truly came and so knew a form that none of their old friends recognized them everything that his hands wants to work that is hands are such excellent tools that no one who is the heavy possessor of a pair is quite happy until he uses them so alba began to have a longing desire to build a stem and lift himself up among his neighbors but what should he build with here the little feed answered promptly you want to build do you well here is carpent the very best material there is nothing like it for walls it makes the most beautiful firm wood wait a minute and we will send up some that we have been storing for your use and the busy hands go to work and the child grows day by day his body and limbs are brown now put his hands up a fine shining green and having learned the use of carbon these busy hands undertake to gather it for themselves out of the air about them which is a great storehouse full of many materials that our eyes cannot see and he has also learned that to grow and to build are indeed the same thing for his body is taking the form of a strong young tree his branches are spreading for a roof over the heads of a hundred delicate flowers making a home for many a bushy-tailed squirrel and pleasant voiced wood bird for you see whoever builds cannot build for himself alone all his neighbors have the benefit of his work and all enjoy it together what at the first was so hard to attempt became grand and beautiful in the doing and little alba merely for a squirrel's breakfast as he might have done had he not brightly benched on his journey stands before us a noble tree which is to live a hundred years or more do you want to know what kind of a tree? well Lily who studies Latin will tell you that quirkus means oak and now can you tell me what alba's rustic cradle was and to where his cousins rubra and coxenia end of section 9 section 10 of the story's mother nature told her children this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Adam Carroll the story's mother nature told her children by Jane Andrews section 10 treasure boxes we all have our treasure boxes myzers have strong iron bound chests full of gold stately ladies pearl inlaid caskets for their jewels and even you and I, dear child have our own your little box with lock and key that Aunt Lucy gave you where you have kept for a long time your choices paper doll the peacock with spun glass tail and the robin's egg that we picked up on the pack under the great trees that windy day last spring that is your treasure box I know less have mine and if you will look with me I will show you how the trees and flowers have theirs packed away in them come out in the orchard this September day under the low bound peach trees for great downy cheeked peaches almost drop into our hands sit on the grassy bank with me and I will show you the peach trees treasure box what does the peach tree regard as most precious if it could speak in words it would tell you its seed is the one thing for which it cares most for which it has worked ever since spring storing food and drinking in sunshine and it is so dear and valued because when the peach tree itself dies this seed, its child may still live on growing into a beautiful and fruitful tree therefore the mother tree cherishes her seed as her greatest treasure and is made for it a casket more beautiful than Mrs. William's single whip jewel box see the great crack where this peach broke from the bow we will pull it open this is opening the cover of the outside casket see how rich was its outside color but how wonderfully beautiful the deep crimson fibers which cling about the hard shell inside for this seed cannot be trusted in a single covering moreover the inner box is locked securely and I am sorry to say we haven't the key so if I would show you the inside you must break the pretty box with its strong ribbed walls and then at last we shall see what the peach trees treasure box holds here too are the apples lying on the grass at our feet we will cut one for it too holds the apple tree's treasure first comes the skin rosy and yellow a pretty firm wrapping for the outside but it sometimes breaks when a strong wind tosses the apples to the ground and sometimes the insects eat holes in it so if this were the only covering the treasure would hardly be very saved therefore next we come to the firm juicy flesh of the apple which is broken through by a fall not often eaten through by insects but lest even this should fail we come at last far in the middle to horny sheaths or cells built up together like a little fortress surrounding and protecting the brown shining seeds which we reach in the very center of all one thing more let us look at before we leave the apple cut it horizontally through the middle with a sharp knife and try how thin and smooth a slice you can make hold it up at the light and we shall see something very beautiful there in the center of the round slice is the delicate figure of a perfect apple blossom with all its petals spread for it was that lovely pink and white blossom from which the apple was formed a tiny green ball at first which you may see in the spring if you look at the blossoms have just fallen as this little green apple grew it kept in its very heart always the image of the fair blossom and now that the fruit has reached this you may still see the same form the pears too the apricots and flums you may see for yourselves you do not need me to tell their stories but come down to the garden for there I have some of the oddest and prettiest boxes to show the peas and beans have long canoes satin lined in waterproof on what voyage they are bound I cannot say the tall milkweed that grew so fast all summer and threatened to overrun the garden now pays well for its lodging by the exquisite treasure which its rough covered pale green bag holds press your thumb on its closed edges for this casket opens with a spring and if it is ripe and ready it will unclose with a touch and show you a little fish with silver scales laid over a covering of long silken threads finer and more delicate than any of the silken silk in your mother's work box this silk is really a wing like float for each scale which will not stay upon the little fish but long to float away with their silken trails and alighting here and there cling and seek for a good place to plant themselves see too how the poppy has provided herself with a deep round box of a delicate brown color the carved lid might have been made by the Chinese it looks so much like their fine work go to the brim this boxes the poppy is rich in the autumn brown seeds by the hundred packed away for another year's use here are the balsams touch me knots we used to call them when I was a child for poor things so slightly have they locked up their treasure that even the baby's little finger will open the rough feeling of long casket with a snap and a spring and send the jewels flying all over the garden bed where you will scarcely be able to find them again roses have beautiful round red globes to hold their precious seeds and so firm and strong are they that the winter winds and snows will not break or open them I have found them dashed with sea spray around dusty road sides everywhere strong and safe making the dullest day bright with a cheery color if we go to the wet meadows and stream sides we shall find how the scarlet cardinal has packed away its minute seeds in a pretty little box with two or three partings inside and the cow slip has a cluster of oval bags as full as they can hold among the rocks hair bells have their tiny five parted chests and the columbine it's standing group of narrow brown sacks which show if we open them hundreds of tiny seeds but in the woods the oak has stored her treasures in the acorn the chestnut and its fur which holds the nut so safely the walnut and beef trees have also their hard safe caskets and the boys who go nutting know very well what is inside autumn is the time to open these treasures it takes all the spring and summer to prepare them and some even need to fill up September too before they are ready to open the little covers but go into the garden and orchard into the meadows and woods and you have not far to look before finding enough to prove that the plants, no less than the children have treasures to keep and often most charming boxes to keep them in end of section 10