Note 1 — JUST A WORD
Reading edition
"The Strange Adventures of a Pebble."
[2] "The Strange Adventures of a Pebble."
[3] All these things put together are called "weathering."
[4] Muir. "The Mountains of California."
[5] "The Strange Adventures of a Pebble."
[6] That is to say, no descendants worthy of them. It is now thought some of the modern reptiles may be degenerate descendants of the big reptiles of old.
[7] Muir: "The Mountains of California."
[8] "Outlines of Earth's History."
[9] "The Two Majesties." This painting, by a great French realist, shows a lion getting home rather late, after his night out, stopping for a look at the rising sun; a thing with which, owing to his habits, he is not very familiar.
[10] When you study French, if you want to read this book—like most French works on science it is very interesting—ask for Perrier's "Organization des Lumbricus Terrestris."
[11] Just listen to this: "Worms," says Mr. Darwin, in that remarkable book of his, "are indifferent to very sharp objects, even rose thorns and small splinters of glass."
[12] In the world of science, the ant goes by her Latin name, Formica, and the whole family is known as the Formicidæ. To a Roman boy Formica simply meant "ant." Fusca is also Latin, and means "dark"; so you can see this part of the story is about a species of dark ant. As a matter of fact he is dark brown.
[13] The scientific name for this particular kind of ant is Lasius niger.
[14] A "bad" conductor is often a good thing, as you'll see by looking it up in the dictionary.
[15] The whole story is told in the famous book, "The Mason Bee," by Henri Fabre. He was the teacher.
[16] The boys were a great help. You ought to see what Fabre himself says about them in that famous book of his.
[17] You've often noticed them, haven't you? Now read Fabre's wonderful book and see how much you didn't notice.
[18] "And that's once too many," as the old farmer said; and we must agree with him when we think only of the damage they do.
[19] One of my friends in the faculty of the University of Chicago tells me there are still a good many armadillos in Texas.
[20] Isn't that the way a toad swallows an angleworm? Or how does he do it?
[21] Observers find that flamingoes can be successfully approached by putting on the skin of a cow or a horse.
[22] CHAPTER VI.
[23] "Admire," in those days, meant "to wonder at."
[24] By the way, the funny thing is that, while the bacteria that live on roots of the legumes are plants and not animals, most of them do move about.
[25] Rev. H. S. McCook: "The Agricultural Ant of Texas."
[26] Strictly speaking, I presume this was the same Apollo who carried the sun about in his chariot, and "Destroyer of Mice" was one of his many nicknames.
[27] Here imagine Brer Bear putting on his specs and reading from the book.
[28] That's the name of the Englishman I've just been quoting. He's a famous artist, but, like most cultivated Englishmen, can also write a good book when he feels like it.
[29] Ingersoll: "Wild Neighbors."
[30] Adapted from Langdon Smith.
[31] Whittier's "Barefoot Boy."
[32] "Pictured Knowledge."
[33] "The Strange Adventures of a Pebble."
[34]"As You Like It."
[35] Martin: "Physiography of Wisconsin."