Page:The Atlantic Monthly Volume 75.djvu/868

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
This page needs to be proofread.
860
The Contributors

children. Such things have boon the delight of the Southern nursery time out of mind; and my own childhood derived a more hat- ing pleasure from these primitive inventions than from any of the wonders of the toy store. But chief among the pastimes with which the giant pine supplied us was plait- ing the needles, both the green ones and the brown and brittle " shatters," into coro- nals and mats and various fantastic devices. Of baskets carved out of peach-stones and cherry-pits we had store, for the art that produces such is universal ; but, with true childlike appreciation, we held far more pre- cious the chance Jind of hickory nuts hol- lowed out by the "joiner squirrel " and the acorn-cups dew-filled by the fairies. Among our other cherished treasures were the oak- apples, exquisitely mottled balls, purple and red and white, hoarded solely for the joy of the eye ; while for the joy of the ear there were the partridge-peas, announced by dear " Bob White " about midsummer, polished ebony pods, half hidden in the tangled g. and loaded with gunpowder seeds that rat- tled delightfully. In an idle stroll not long ago, I passed a poor cabin, near which grew a wide-spread- ing live-oak with grotesquely gnarled roots. No child could mistake the intention of such roots, and in the little circuit they inclosed was set a sight to thrill the happy memories of my vanished years. There was the old fa- miliar stock and store of unconsidered trash which childhood's subtle alchemy transmutes into treasure : cleft peach-stones, acorn-cu j, squash-bowls, milkweed-pods, and, in the midst, a quadruped surely, invention is as keen an instinct of all children as destruc- tiveness ! fashioned from a potato by the insertion of straws for legs and a curling feather for a tail. I know uot what beast to [June. name this work of art, for in the tlight of the years my skill in sueh nomenclature deserted me, and there was no child near to prompt my laggard wit ; but I testified to my faith in the animal's verisimilitude ere I went my way by dropping some pennies (that is a readier word with children than "cent-pieces") into a squash-bowl, for pure delight in this reminder of the storied ; I am fain to persuade myself that when the little artists returned to their enchanted nook, their faith in the good angels that wait on childhood was strengthened by the sight of the coins that had paid for my plea- sure. A Footnote to I wonder if Mrs. Karle's Flower Lore, doll's tea-table was furnished in early summer with a teapot made of the largest cherry from the low-hanging houghs, whose stem, curved over and stuck into one side near the bottom, formed a graceful handle, while the end of another stem made an excellent spout; and whether the little girl who presided wore around her neck a chain of cherry-pit rings, carved l>y the cunning jackknife of a brother or wonder- ful boy cousin, a necklace worn with more pride than one of pearls or diamonds ever awoke in after-y I'm ( a singular bit of flower superstition was told me recently by a New Jersey girl, as learned some years ago from a little playmate, a sort of "Loves me, loves me not," that was new to me, at leaM. Among the clusters of lilacs, especially tin- white, they found occasionally a tiny flower with live petals instead of the customary four, and, pronouncing the name in question, swallowed the flower. If it went down smoothly, it w; me : " if the small dabbler in magic choked, it was " Loves me not."