قراءة كتاب Keep-Well Stories for Little Folks
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I wonder if any of you can guess what was the matter with the baby on the morning the fly found it red and hot?
2. What had happened when the fly went back to it?
3. What caused the baby to have typhoid fever?
4. What is a germ?
5. Where did the little fly say he was hatched? It is in such places as this—in stables and other filthy places—that all flies are hatched and raised. They all like good things to eat. Flies can smell a good thing to eat a long way off; so they soon find their way to the kitchen and dining-room. On their way to the kitchen, they often stop by the out-houses and gather on their feet and legs a lot of dirt and germs. I must tell you now that the fly can get the typhoid germ or plant only from human filth.
Note.—The teacher should have an inexpensive microscope and show the children a fly,—its head and its feet especially.
6. Have you ever seen a fly under a magnifying glass? On the bottom of the fly's feet are little glue-like pads and a number of little hairs on his body and feet, to which germs and bits of dirt stick. The fly in this story had come to the farm-house for the first time, you know, when he found the pitcher of milk and had such a nice bath. He had been gathering germs and dirt on his feet, both from his early home in the barn-yard and from the out-house at which he stopped on his way. Some of these germs gathered at the out-house had come from some person who had typhoid fever. As he crawled over the baby's bottle and its little mouth, he left some of the germs there and he left some in the milk pitcher also. It was careless of the mother to give her baby milk that was not covered. The mother did not know she was giving the baby milk in which there were these little plants, or germs, which cause typhoid fever.
You have learned that the house-fly carries the seed, or germs, of typhoid. These germs, or seed, will grow and multiply in the body. So you should never leave food uncovered where a fly can get to it.
7. Since you know where house-flies are hatched and bred, what may you do to keep them from multiplying?
8. What else can be done to make sure that no germ can get to our food or drink?
SWAT THE FLY
And makes Mr. Fly feeble and lean.
W is for Waste, where the fly breeds,
The fouler, the better it suits his needs.
A is for Anything dirty and vile,
On which the children may spend a short while.
T is for Typhoid, whose best friend is the fly,
It makes thousands to sicken and hundreds to die.
T is for Trouble he brings to us all,
From Spring's early green until far into Fall.
H is for Housewife, his unceasing foe,
Who traps, swats and otherwise brings him to woe.
E is for Energy she puts into work,
So long as there is one left she will never shirk.
F stands for Friends of which he has none,
If you look for his foes you may count me as one.
L stands for Labor, which is always well spent,
If it keeps Mr. Fly from enjoying content.
Y stands for You, who will help in the task,
Kill each fly you can is all we ask.
THE STORY OF THE RAIN BARREL
O John! did you know that I almost fell on my head into the rain barrel at the corner of the house this morning? I was looking at the picture of myself in the water, when, all of a sudden, I saw the funniest little things darting everywhere in the water. I forgot to look at myself or to make any more faces at the broad face of the little boy at the bottom of the rain barrel. There were lots of these queer little things in the rain water. They were turning somersaults and standing on their heads every few minutes. Here is a picture of one. I tried to catch some in my hands, but they were too quick for me; they would just wiggle out of reach. This was why I nearly fell on my head.
I ran into the house to ask Mother about them. Mothers know a lot, don't they, John? At least, mine does. I just knew she could tell me all about these queer little things in the rain barrel. When I asked her to tell me, she put her sewing down and went to the rain barrel with me. As soon as she looked she said she was so glad that I had come for her, that she would tell me all about these little "wiggle-tails," and that I could help her destroy them, as they would do much harm if they grew up.
She said that they were the little baby mosquitoes. Isn't that funny? I did not know that mosquitoes lived in the water, even when they were babies, did you? I will tell you just what Mother said. She said that if I were near a pond or rain barrel, or even an old tin can, in which water was standing, early in the morning before the sun was up, I could hear Mrs. Mosquito come singing merrily to the water, and that if I watched and did not disturb her, I could see her rest lightly on the water and lay her eggs there in a little brown boat or raft-shaped mass, little eggs like these. The mosquito mother now thinks her duty to her children is done, for, after she lays her eggs on the water, she goes off singing, never thinking of them again.
If nothing disturbs it, the boat of eggs floats on the water a little longer than a day, when all of a sudden the shells of the eggs begin to break and the little "wiggle-tails" hatch, or come out of the shells. These funny little "wiggle-tails" go frisking about in the water. They dive here and there down into the water, hunting for something to eat. These are the baby mosquitoes. They are very queer looking, with their big heads and eyes and a funny little tube at the tail end of their bodies. They push this tube up out of the water to get air to breathe. I saw a number of them push these little tubes up to the top of the water, but, when I got close to them, down to the bottom of the barrel they would dive, head foremost, as if they were scared. They soon had to come up again for another breath of air.
Mother said that if no one disturbed them they would eat germs and all sorts of little water plants for about two weeks, growing all the time. At the end of that time, each one would curl himself into a cocoon, like a ball, called a pupa. After about four days of rest and growing in this cocoon, the case would break and out would come a thing with wings, a full-grown mosquito. It would stand on its case or cocoon, dry its wings in the sun, and then fly away to begin life as a mosquito.
Mother said she did not want to give the little "wiggle-tails" a chance to become mosquitoes, and that if I would bring her some oil from the kitchen pantry, she would show me how to kill the little "wiggle-tails." I ran for the oil, oil just like that your Mamma burns in her lamps. Mother poured a few spoonfuls in the rain barrel, and that was the end of Mr. Wiggle-tail. The oil kept the "wiggle-tails" from getting any air to breathe through their funny breathing tubes, and they smothered.