the world, floating on the bosom of the air. But it does not always fall straight back into the rivers and seas again; a large part of it falls on the land, and has to trickle down slopes and into the earth, in order to get back to its natural home, and it is often 5 caught on its way before it can reach the great waters. Go to any piece of ground which is left wild and untouched, you will find it covered with grass, weeds, and other plants: if you dig up a small plot, you will 10 find innumerable tiny roots creeping through the ground in every direction. Each of these roots has a spongelike mouth, by which the plant takes up water. Now, imagine raindrops falling on this plot of ground and sinking into the earth. On every side 15 they will find rootlets thirsting to drink them in, and they will be sucked up as if by tiny sponges, and drawn into the plants and up the stems to the leaves. Here they are worked up into food for the plants, and only if the leaf has more water than it needs, 20 some drops may escape at the tiny openings under the leaf, and be drawn up again by the sun-waves as invisible vapor into the air. Again, much of the rain falls on hard rock and stone, where it cannot sink in, and then it lies in 25 pools till it is shaken apart again into vapor and carried off in the air. Nor is it idle here even before it is carried up to make clouds. We have to thank this invisible vapor in the air for protecting us from the burning heat of the sun by day, and intolerable frost by night. Let us for a moment imagine that we can see all that we know exists between us and the sun. First, we have the fine ether across which the sunbeams travel, beating down upon our earth with immense force, so that in the sandy desert they are like a burning fire. Then we have the coarser atmosphere 10 of oxygen and nitrogen atoms hanging in this ether and bending the minute sun-waves out of their direct path. But they do very little to hinder them on their way, and this is why in very dry countries the sun's heat is so intense. The rays beat down merci15 lessly, and nothing opposes them. Lastly, in damp countries, we have the larger but still invisible particles of vapor hanging about among the air atoms. Now, these watery particles, although they are very few only about one twenty-fifth part of the whole 20 atmosphere-do hinder the sun-waves. For they are very greedy of heat, and, though the light-waves pass easily through them, they catch the heat-waves and use them to help themselves to expand. And so, when there is invisible vapor in the air, the sun25 beams come to us deprived of some of their heatwaves, and we can remain in the sunshine without suffering from the heat. This is how the water vapor shields us by day, but by night it is still more useful. During the day our earth and the air near it have been storing up the heat which has been poured down on them, and at night when the sun goes down all this heat begins to escape again. Now, if there were no vapor in the 5 air, this heat would rush back into space so rapidly that the ground would become cold and frozen, even on a summer's night, and all but the most hardy plants would die. But the vapor, which formed a veil against the sun in the day, now forms a still 10 more powerful veil against the escape of the heat by night. It shuts in the heat-waves, and only allows them to make their way slowly upwards from the earth-thus producing for us the soft, balmy nights of summer and preventing all life being destroyed in 15 the winter. Ex pend'I türe: laying out; spending. Cô he'sion (zhun): the law of nature by which the particles of a body are held together. Khä'sï ä Hills. E'ther: a medium in all space, through which light and heat pass readily. Flower in the crannied wall, I pluck you out of the crannies, I hold you here, root and all, in my hand, ter," A Rill from the Town Pump BY NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE Nathaniel Hawthorne (1804-1864): The greatest of Ameri can novelists. His principal works are "The Scarlet Let""The Marble Faun," and "The House of the Seven Gables." Hawthorne also wrote many sketches and tales, and several volumes of stories for children. The best of these are "Grandfather's Chair," tales from New England history, and "Tanglewood Tales" and "The Wonder Book," two volumes of stories from Greek mythology. "A Rill from the Town Pump" is one of the sketches in the volume entitled "Twice-Told Tales." (SCENE: The corner of two principal streets, the Town Pump talking through its nose.) Noon by the north clock! Noon by the east! High noon, too, by these hot sunbeams, which fall, 5 scarcely aslope, upon my head and almost make the water bubble and smoke in the trough under my nose. Truly, we public characters have a tough time of it! And among all the town officers chosen at March meeting, where is he that sustains for a 10 single year the burden of such manifold duties as are imposed upon the town pump? The title of "town treasurer" is rightfully mine, as guardian of the best treasure that the town has. The overseers of the poor ought to make me their 15 chairman, since I provide bountifully for the pauper without expense to him that pays taxes. I am at the head of the fire department and one of the physicians to the board of health. As a keeper of the peace, all water drinkers will confess me equal to the constable. I perform some of the duties of the town 5 clerk by promulgating public notices when they are posted on my front. To speak within bounds, I am the chief person of the municipality, and exhibit, moreover, an admirable pattern to my brother officers by the cool, steady, 10 upright, downright, and impartial discharge of my business and the constancy with which I stand to my post. Summer or winter, nobody seeks me in vain, for all day long I am seen at the busiest corner, just above the market, stretching out my arms to rich 15 and poor alike, and at night I hold a lantern over my head, both to show where I am and keep people out of the gutters. At this sultry noontide I am cupbearer to the parched populace, for whose benefit an iron goblet is chained to my waist. Like a dram-20 seller on the mall at muster-day, I cry aloud to all and sundry in my plainest accents and at the very tip-top of my voice. Here it is, gentlemen! Here is the good liquor! Walk up, walk up, gentlemen! Walk up, walk up Here is the superior stuff! Here is the unadulterated ale of Father Adam-better than strong beer, or wine of any price; here it is by the hogshead or ! 25 |