And so she sent a skylark up
To trim the Sky robe right
With daisies from the Meadow
(You can see them best at night).
And every scrap of blue cut out
To make those daisies set
Came tumbling down upon the grass
And grew a violet.
Everyone loves to go a-hunting. Our forebears were hunters for so many ages that the hunting spirit is strong in all of us, even though held in check by the horror of giving pain to a fellow being. But the pleasure of being outdoors, of seeking for hidden treasures, of finding something that looks at first like old rubbish, and then turns out to be a precious and beautiful thing, that is ours by right of the old law — finders, keepers. That is a kind of hunting that every healthy being loves, and there are many ways and chances for you to enjoy it.
Go out any time between October and April, and look in all the low trees and high bushes for the little natural ragbundles called "cocoons." Some are bundle-shaped and fast to a twig their whole length. Some hang like a Santa Claus bag on a Christmas tree; but all may be known by their hairiness or the strong, close cover of fine gray or brown fibre or silk, without seams and woven to keep out the wet.
They are so strongly fastened on, that you will have to break the twig to get the bimdle down. If it seems very ..text continues