"Pearls and Pebbles; or, Notes of an Old Naturalist" by Catharine Parr Traill. Published by Good Press. Good Press publishes a wide range of titles that encompasses every genre. From well-known classics & literary fiction and non-fiction to forgotten−or yet undiscovered gems−of world literature, we issue the books that need to be read. Each Good Press edition has been meticulously edited and formatted to boost readability for all e-readers and devices. Our goal is to produce eBooks that are user-friendly and accessible to everyone in a high-quality digital format.
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Catharine Parr Traill. Pearls and Pebbles; or, Notes of an Old Naturalist
Pearls and Pebbles; or, Notes of an Old Naturalist
Table of Contents
ILLUSTRATIONS
INTRODUCTORY NOTE
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH
Footnote
PREFACE
PEARLS AND PEBBLES
PLEASANT DAYS OF MY CHILDHOOD
LAMENT FOR THE MAY QUEEN
Footnote
SUNSET AND SUNRISE ON LAKE ONTARIO: A REMINISCENCE.[3]
Footnote
MEMORIES OF A MAY MORNING.[5]
Footnote
ANOTHER MAY MORNING
Footnote
MORE ABOUT MY FEATHERED FRIENDS
THE PINE GROSBEAK
THE SCARLET TANAGER
THE BLUEBIRD
THE CANADA JAY.[16]
THE RED-WINGED BLACKBIRD.[17]
THE FISH-HAWK.[18]
THE BELTED KINGFISHER.[19]
KING BIRD.[20]
THE BOHEMIAN WAX-WING
Footnote
THE ENGLISH SPARROW: A DEFENCE
NOTES FROM MY OLD DIARY
THE SPIDER
PROSPECTING, AND WHAT I FOUND IN MY DIGGING
THE ROBIN AND THE MIRROR
IN THE CANADIAN WOODS
SPRING
SUMMER
AUTUMN
WINTER
A SONG FOR A SLEIGH DRIVE
THE FIRST DEATH IN THE CLEARING.[21]
THE EARLY BLEST
Footnote
ALONE IN THE FOREST
ON THE ISLAND OF MINNEWAWA
THE CHILDREN OF THE FOREST
THOUGHTS ON VEGETABLE INSTINCT
A FLORAL MYSTERY
THE WHITE WATER LILY
Footnote
SOME CURIOUS PLANTS
BROOM RAPE
INDIAN PIPE
THE DODDER
SENSITIVE PLANTS
SOME VARIETIES OF POLLEN
POLLEN OF THE WHITE PINE
THE CRANBERRY MARSH
OUR NATIVE GRASSES
THE GRAVES OF THE EMIGRANTS
INDIAN GRASS.[24]
Footnote
MOSSES AND LICHENS
THE INDIAN MOSS-BAG
SOMETHING GATHERS UP THE FRAGMENTS
Отрывок из книги
Catharine Parr Traill
Published by Good Press, 2021
.....
"I was far from quite well when we left Inverness by the little passenger steamer Highland Chieftain, yet not too ill to find myself, in company with others of the passengers, climbing the steep winding path which led from the waters of Loch Ness to the Falls of Foyers and plucking many sweet wild-flowers by the way. My love for flowers attracted the attention of two of my companions, a Mr. Allen, of Leith, and a Mr. Sterling, of Glasgow, both of whom I found were horticulturists and well acquainted with the flora of the country. We entered into conversation, and they added much to the pleasure of the journey by pointing out to me the interesting objects along our route. At Glen Morrison, a fine old gentleman with his fishing-basket and tackle was rowed out to the boat by two barefooted Highland lassies, stout girls who plied the oars with as powerful a stroke as any of the fisher lads of Cromarty. I must have eyed the fishing-basket with a longing glance (it reminded me of my childhood days on the bank of the Waveney), for the old laird noticed me and we became quite friendly. He talked of salmon fishing and Highland lochs, and pointed out the wild opening of Lochiel's Glen. Then we spoke of the Camerons and the Macdonells, the Stewarts and Glencoe, the Highland chiefs and Highland feuds and emigration, and I told him we were bound for the far west. Before he left the boat at a point leading to Inverary, he held my hand a few seconds and said: 'If you should ever be near the Highland settlement of Glengarry, and need help or shelter, say that you have seen the Macdonell, and every door will be opened to you, every Highland hand held out in token of friendship.' "That night we spent in a clean little public-house within sight of the giant Ben Ness, the hostess of which talked much of Sir Walter Scott, whom she had known well. The illness I had felt coming on when in Inverness was only stayed, and it now overtook me, robbing me of all the pleasure of the lovely scenery of the Clyde, and by the time we reached Greenock I was completely prostrated. Skilful treatment and careful nursing, however, enabled me to recover sufficiently to be carried on board the brig Laurel, in which our passage had been taken and paid for, and which it would have been a serious loss to forfeit."
Mrs. Traill speaks of this brig as being the last of the season sailing from that port to Quebec. They sailed on the 7th of July, a fact and date which bear interesting comparison with the carrying trade of the present time between the Clyde and Canada.
