The fish in the Mammoth cave,-- Some species of the Ant, Have only a trace where eyes should be, Yet never know the want. {169} Who knows but girls and boys, Kept always in the dark, Might come to have but little sight, And finally not a spark. God meant us to live in the light, He has poured it all about; Oh, let us not ourselves destroy, By shutting His sunshine out. {170} _THE MAMMOTH CAVE._ "WHAT is the Mammoth Cave?" I hear the Children say, Where fishes have no eyes nor sight, And where 'tis dark by day? You all have seen a ledge Of big rocks piled, or stone?-- Now just suppose a door-way made, Or entrance to go in. {171} And when you're in, a path Leads on, right under ground, And by-and-by you come to a place Like a room with walls around. 'Tis jagged and rough and rude, 'Tis dark and damp as a grave, But whether 'tis large or small, 'Tis always called a cave. Now, Mammoth means _monstrous big_, And the Mammoth cave, we claim As the largest known in the world, And that's what gives the name. And it has many a room, Quite large and wondrous grand, And it has springs and streams and lakes, All dark, you understand. And here are fishes, too, Yes, fishes with no eyes, That have lived in the dark for ages past, As learned men surmise. {172} _THE CAMELS_. The Camels live in desert lands; Their feet are made to walk on sands; They carry burdens far and near, Where neither grass nor trees appear; Where there's no rain, no rivers, brooks, No water anywhere for folks;-- But God has made in Camels' chest Peculiar sacs, for He knew best What they must do, and that they'd die, If He did not their drink supply. Before they start they drink and drink, Till every sac is full, I think;-- And at the mouth of every sac, A muscle strong, but loose and slack, Will tighten up when it is filled, So that no drink can e'er be spilled. And when on journey, last or first, The camel wants to slake his thirst, A bag-string loosens, and out-pours Enough to satisfy for hours. {173} {174} The laden camels, in a row, Are called a Caravan, you know;-- Sometimes a caravan is lost, Being buried deep in sand and dust. A storm of wind, a Simoon named, Will sweep across the desert sand, When camels, men, and every one Must throw themselves their knees upon, And bury faces in the earth, For thus alone they save their breath; A fearful thing, but 'tis the best That they can do,--now hear the rest. {175} Sometimes they're buried deep, and find When they dig out they're almost blind And cannot tell which way to go, And thus are lost, a serious woe! Sometimes, when lost, the drink for men Gets short; is gone; they thirst, and then They kill a camel just for lack Of what he carries in his sac. {176}