"I am glad to hear it," said the visitor from town as they turned toward the elm tree. "Toads enjoy life and it"s wicked to molest "em."
"Oh, I don"t know about their enjoyin" life. The reason I let "em alone is, coz if you kill a toad, your cow"ll give bad milk."
Alice did not dispute this wise statement. She could not help wishing that the same law of retaliation protected all birds, beasts, and insects.
After seeing the frog deposited in safety in a hole in one of the big boughs, she with Matilda and Esther scampered back to the swing expecting to find the others there. To their surprise the big grapevine was unoccupied, and the shouts and screams issuing from the schoolhouse led them too, to hurry on to see what was the matter.
"Maybe Jim Stubbs has got a mus"rat, or somethin" in there a-scarin"
the children," suggested Esther, as they entered the door.
A crowd had gathered in front of the teacher"s desk on which was placed the large dictionary, and seated on the book was the boy who winked with his nose.
"Stand back!" he called, "I"m going to let it out, and then you"ll see fun."
With that he jumped down, removed the dictionary, raised the lid of the desk, and out popped a red squirrel. Round and round over the floor flew the frightened animal, dodging here and there and wildly darting into corners to evade the books and other missiles that were thrown at it. Not only the boys took a part in the cruel sport, but some of the girls helped with sticks, sunbonnets, and whatever they could lay their hands on. Two or three times the little creature was struck. At last, helpless, it stood panting while one of its tormentors dealt it a blow that killed it.
A cry of protest broke from Alice"s lips, but her voice was lost in the roar of applause that followed the big boy"s action, as he tossed the lifeless squirrel across the room into the face of another boy, who in turn pitched the animal at his neighbor.
"The poor little creature! How could they abuse it and take its life?"
cried Alice, turning to those nearest her. The other girls shrank back abashed at her reproachful tones, which were noticed by Jim Stubbs, and that hero felt called upon to make a speech.
"Bah! boys, that girl is getting ready to cry over a dead squirrel.
What d"ye think of that?" And a heartless chorus echoed his laughter.
"No, I"m too indignant to cry," replied Alice with spirit. "I never knew boys could be so awfully wicked, yes, and girls too. I should think you would love these dear little creatures, and pet and protect them. They are what make country life pleasant. I wouldn"t give a fig for your pretty woods if there were no living things to be seen there."
This was an aspect of the situation the boys had never before considered. They did not realize that to a lover of nature the humblest form of animal life is interesting. Did other people really prize squirrels and frogs and lightning bugs and such things?
Just at this moment the teacher entered, and the crestfallen pupils busied themselves in gathering up the scattered books and other articles used in storming the squirrel.
"My young visitor is quite shocked by such an exhibition of cruelty,"
said Miss Harper, when she had learned how matters stood. "Think what the woods would be without the song of birds and the chirp and hum of insects. Your playground teems with happy beings that love the warmth and sunlight as well as you do. Would not the forests be robbed of half their beauty and interest if the squirrels and chipmunks and birds and b.u.t.terflies were killed off?"
"Wimmen folks are nice ones to talk about cruelty to birds," sneered the big boy to his neighbor, "when they stick wings and tails and whole birds on their hats and bonnets whenever they can raise a cent to buy "em with. Oh, yes, wimmen are awful consistent! They are, for a fact."
Had his words reached Miss Harper"s ears she might have replied that sensible and humane "wimmen folks" regarded the fearful slaughter of birds as little less than a crime; but unfortunately she did not hear this and resumed:
"Yet you hunt out these harmless and beautiful creatures and wantonly destroy them. Nearly every boy gives way to this savage, brutal impulse to kill something. He couldn"t tell why if you were to ask him. Children, do you know there is a society whose members pledge themselves to protect the birds? I wish we might organize one here to-day. I am sure, from a spirit of kindness, you would like to unite in a promise not to willfully harm any of these wonderful creatures that G.o.d has placed around us."
When Alice Glenn drove home that evening she carried with her a glad heart, for in her pocket was a copy of the rules and by-laws of the "Anti-Cruelty Society, of Mount Airy School," which Miss Harper had organized that afternoon. And it was signed not only by the girls and all the smaller boys, but by big Jim Stubbs and the boy who winked with his nose.
CHAPTER XV
POLLY"S FAREWELL
Happy little maiden, Give, oh, give to me The highness of your courage, The sweetness of your grace, To speak a large word in a little place.
--_E. S. Phelps-Ward._
Closing the volume, Polly laid it in her lap.
"That was a good story," observed Miss Kathy, as the child paused. The little girl did not immediately reply, but leaned forward and looked wistfully in her companion"s face for a moment.
"Do you think it is so very wicked to keep--that is, to--to deprive a bird of its liberty?" she asked timidly.
"Oh, I don"t know that it could be called wicked. A canary bird, born in a cage, that never knew any other home, would be apt to die if it were turned loose to shift for itself and get its own living. It possibly could not stand the exposure to the weather," replied Miss Katharine.
"But supposing it wasn"t a canary," said Polly hesitatingly; "supposing it might be a redbird, or a wren, or--or----"
"Or a bobolink?" Miss Kathy smiled as she supplied the word.
"Well--yes, a bobolink, for instance." And Polly glanced toward me.
"Any captured bird certainly feels very bad to be shut up in a cage all its life, though I have seen robins in captivity that grew to be as tame as canaries. My aunt had one that lived twelve years in a cage.
It would peck her cheek, and pretend to kiss her, and do all sorts of sweet little tricks. His cage door stood open, and he went in and out as it suited him, but he never thought of flying away. However, it is only natural to suppose that hopping about in a narrow s.p.a.ce would be dreadful to a bird accustomed to spreading its wings and soaring up through the sky whenever and wherever it pleased."
Miss Kathy looked at the clock. She saw it was time for her to go back into the store, then gathered up her work and went into the front room.
When Polly was left to herself I could see she was thinking very hard.
The rocking-chair kept moving faster, and her forehead was drawn into a little pucker between her eyes. She sighed too, occasionally, as if she were sad.
I noticed that Miss Katharine from her post behind the counter looked in at the child from time to time, and I heard her say half-aloud: "If the fashionable women of the land had hearts as merciful and consciences as tender as that dear little Polly"s, the slaughter of the birds would soon come to an end."
The birch chair finally ceased to rock. The deep-drawn wrinkle pa.s.sed away from Polly"s forehead. She laid down her book and came to my cage, then she stood for a moment looking at me tenderly. Then she took the cage down from its hook and carried it to the door leading to the garden. The air was pleasant, and a sunbeam slanted across the porch making a yellow gleam on the lattice. How beautiful it looked to my weary eyes!
"Dearest d.i.c.key Downy, good-bye," she said to me, and her voice had a little tremor in it. "You had a right to be happy and live out of doors among the trees, and I kept you a prisoner. Please forgive me for it, and forgive me for wearing birds" wings on my Sunday hat. I shall never do such cruel things again. It"s coming spring now, d.i.c.key, so be happy and fly away to the beautiful clouds."
She set the little wire door wide open. A warm zephyr swept by, laden with the scent of wild flowers and all sweet growing things. My heart fluttered with joy. I heard the far cry of the hills as I floated out and upward, higher and higher, on joyous wing. I was free, free!