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AV
4,735
Cº. 32,
CONCERNING HUMAN VIVISECTIONS.
Regarding the vivisection of human beings, new s
proofs come daily to our desk, that, granted the cour- s
age, and the vivisector will demand them. A most as-b
tonishing article has been recently published in the
New York “Independent,” a religious journal. Therein
one E. E. Slosson, a professor in the University of ’
Wyoming, after pathetically deploring the opposition to
vivisection, seems to take the public into his º
and show the cloven hoof as ingenuously as could pos-
sibly be desired. He begins by claiming that “instances e
- - - - - V
of self-immolation (suicide) on the altar of science are
>
y 7
not rare, on the contrary, they are of daily occurrence.
Starting out with such an obvious untruth as this, it is
)
the less surprising that his argument should be im-
moral; as it is not true, however, that a man who falsifies
will always murder, it is somewhat startling to find this
enthusiastic young person openly claiming the right to
vivisect men and women promiscuously. He prºceeds,
“Is science worth the cost Is a life for a life too high .
a price No one who knows the value of learning
would say it is.” -
We want, although speaking of a person for whom
we have infinite contempt, here, as always, to be per
fectly fair. We state, therefore, that in the sentence
just quoted, the context seems to show that it is of self-
vivisection that the author speaks. In the following,
however it is, beyond any doubt to anyone who under- |




stands English, that he openly and unequivocally claims
the right to vivisect human beings. The quotations
speak for themselves, and the context shows, were such
proof needed, that the writer claims that the vivisec-
tion of men and women is highly desirable. I quote
literally: “If cats and guinea-pigs can be put to any
higher use than to advance science, we do not know
what it is. We do not know of any higher use we can
put a man to, and we believe, on good authority, that
he is of more value than many sparrows.”
Again : “A human life is nothing compared with a
new fact in science.” Again : Professor Slosson has
profound contempt for those who are foolish enough “to
think that the aim of science is the cure of disease, the
saving of human life. Quite the contrary, the aim of
science is the advancement of human knowledge at any
sacrifice of human life.”
“AT ANY SACRIFICE OF HUMAN LIFE.”
The anti-vivisectionists should hasten to thank this
person for giving to them confessions of the callous-
ness that surpasses anything that they have hereto-
fore claimed. We are now plainly told by a represen-
tative of the vivisectors that not only they do not vivi-
sect animals in the hope of making a therapeutically
valuable discovery, but that “the aim of science is the
advancement of human knowledge at any sacrifice of
human life.” It is fortunate that the writer has used
language that is beyond equivocation.
This man seems to have put himself beyond the pale
of horror. For a man engaged in educating to openly
preach, and for a prominent religious journal to openly
aid him by printing such a diabolical doctrine as this,
are two significant facts that I lack the power to de-
for what For some great cause or noble object com-
so ardently admired by Professor Slosson, deserve the
murder, are frequently performed on human beings,
nounce as I would. Let every human man ponder
them well. Whither is our attempt at civilization tend-
ing 2 What is a civilization worth that produces a be-
ing that honestly and seriously puts forth such a doc-
trine as the above 2 Indeed, Ohio was but a few steps
ahead of Wyoming in demanding human vivisections.
To say that Professor Slosson's argument is murder-
ous is to pay it an undeserved compliment. As much
as “Jack the Ripper" (supposed, by the way, and with
good reason, to be a crazy vivisector, run mad with the
lust of vivisection) is more fiendish than the gentle-
man who kills his fellow in a manly duel, just so much
more detestable is this article which inculcates the vivi.
section of men and women on an unlimited scale, and
mensurate with the crime By no means. “Quite the
contrary,” says the Professor, simply ; “the advance-
ment of science; ” that is all. He does not suggest
that a man can put himself to no higher use, but that
y 7
“we can put a man to ” no higher use than vivisection.
As this person says, when a scientist loses his own iife
in the pursuit of science, (an every-day occurrence, he |
says)" the world knows nothing of this ; and, if it did,
would laugh at them for madmen ; ' when the world
finds these enthusiastic madmen vivisecting others, as
they beyond doubt do when they have the opportunity
and courage, it will certainly frown at them for murder-
ers. No claim for science will avail before an unro-
mantic and unsympathetic jury. Richly will these men,
hangman's noose.
That such atrocious crimes, far, far more wicked than








there is, in the minds of the observant ones among us,
absolutely no shadow of doubt.
Dr. Albert Leffingwell, in a very able reply to Pro-
fessor Sosson, published in the “Independent” of Jan-
uary 23d, quotes from an article by a graduate of a col-
lege notorious for its vivisections, who therein confesses
openly and proudly having inoculated twenty (20) little
children “with the most horrible disease that afflicts
the human race to-day, without the slightest thought of
benefit to his victims, and solely as an ea/eriment.”
This being's words follow : “On November 14th, 1883,
I inoculated with virus six . . girls under twelve
years of age. On December 14th I repeated the ex-
periment. . . The last time I inoculated fourteen.
No result followed in any of the twenty experiments.
For the suggestion of this experiment I am indebted to
my friend, Dr. Pontoppidan, of Copenhagen.”
It is pleasant to reflect that there are among us many
scientists who consider that to await the passing of a
law legalizing human vivisection is a foolish and totally
unnecessary formality ; and it may well be that such a
law is only desired that these scientists may have “lib-
7
eral supply " of “subjects” at the expense of the
State ; in other words, the law is asked, not to legalize
human vivisection, for that is done now, ad libiţum, but
simply as a measure of economy.
Truly, not only is the vivisector at the Gates of
Herat, but he has already successfully forced them open
and entered on his bloody work within. -
PHILIP G. PEABODY,
President of the N. E. Anti-Vivisection Society.
Published by the Society, Hº-A-Tremont Stº, Boston, Mass.
Philanthropy compels Us.
- If besides our poor relations rights, and
appeal of our own nobility, we need another
| ground on which to urge humanity to animals,
we find it in philanthropy, the love of man him-
self; for as the circle widens to admit these
humbler members of the Father's house, all the
human members. also will rise into kinder re-
gard. Kindness grows by exercise; callousness iſ
and cruelty also grow by exercise. The boys
who train themselves by stoning dogs and scar-
ing cats and mutilating flies, and breaking into
the houses of the birds, and playing field-pirate
toward the Snake and toad, and who, later,
patronize the dog-fight and the rat-hunt and the
pigeon or squirrel match—they graduate into
the men who pay two creatures like themselves,
to stand up in the prize-ring and pound God's
image out of one another; they are the men
who hanker for the blood-loving newspaper, the
murder gleamings of the country, the gallows-re-
cords and all diaries of lust and violence. On the
other hand, every effort to increase humanity
towards dumb creatures blesses not only them,
but speaking creatures themselves. We stand
to all beings in the gentler attitude, and run ,
with quicker hands to help, after trying to help
the lowest. These societies to protect dumb
animals are in reality protecting every prisoner
in his cell, every Wild boy in the reform school,
every pauper in the alms-house, every poor
seamstress in her garret, every orphan in the
streets; yes, and every prisoner in the Wars.
your wounded brother or son Will be
more likely to come back to you, and the War
itself will be put off longer, and Will end the
sooner because in the time of peace these
societies for dumb animals' protection have been
active in the land.-Rev. W. C. Gannett, in
Humane Appeal. - -













- - -
- - -
should Professing Humani- º
tarians Oppose Vivisection ? - -
ºn ;
| The question proposed for this discussion * -
might be paraphrased in various ways, thus: º
Ought professing humanitarians to support
legalized torture while opposing unchartered -
cruelty on the part of the poor and ignorant?
Should they condone these infinitely greater
agonies inflicted by a powerful body of men, and
allow the deliberate tormenting of the weak by
the strong to be rewarded and applauded, al-
most as a virture, thus threatening the very
moral sense itself? Should humanitarians help .
to sanction and make respectable the theory that
the end justifies the means, however terrible and
however cruel; that it is right to punish the
innocent for the guilty; to thrust the penalty of
our sins and follies (or those of our forefathers),
on to the shoulders of the only creatures who
can never resist that supreme injustice? Again :
Qught humanitarians to teach by their attitude
on this question, that justice is a quality only
to be exercised towards those who can make it
unpleasant for us iſ, in our dealings with them,
we neglect that wise precaution; that mercy must
be diplomatically and not indiscriminately be-
stowed, care being taken to choose the objects
of our ministrations, not according to their need
and suffering, but in such a way as to bring us
honor and reward, or to protect us from the
censure of our more powerful ſellow-creatures 2
In other words, should our “charity” be self-
seeking?
Once more : Ought humanitarians to preſer
the hideous and undeserved torments of animals
to the more or less merited and often beneficent
sufferings of man; ought they to teach us to
grasp at a possible physical gain, at the ex-
pense of a moral loss that is scarcely capable of
expresssion, much less of exaggeration ; to seek
our own ease and pleasure defiberately and 5
coolly at the expense of anguish to the defence-
less who have loved and served and trusted us?
Ought they, in short, to preach a doctrine,
either directly or by inference, which reduces to
absolute absurdity our whole moral code, and
\ would oblige its supporters, if logical, to aban-
- -
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no ſº
ATRACT FROM A LETTER FROM º Höß".
TON, C. B., M. B., B. A., DEPUTY SURGEON-
GENERAL, I. M. S., Retired, TO MRS. MARION
C. JORDAN, Dated Feb. 6th, 1896.
I regard vivisection as immoral and unjustifiable, as well
as quite useless and very dangerous, and I feel assured that,
unless a determined stand be made against it, human beings
will be used for this purpose instead of animals, before long.
Human vivisection, as you know, was practised on slaves in
ancient times, and on criminals during the Middle Ages,
and I believe an attempt (fortunately unsuccessful) was
made last year to legalize this atrocity in the state of Ohio.
Once let this be legalized and there will be an end to all
security. The supply of condemned criminals would be far
too small for the requirements of the experimenters, and
other sources would assuredly be sought and found. First,
perhaps, lunatics, then paupers, then any poor and friendless
persons who might come to hand. Finally, no one would
be safe, and a regular reign of terror would be established in
the community.
This is a terrible prospect, and it is the most powerful
argument I know of for the total suppression of vivisection
in every shape and form, since it appeals directly to the
*selfish feelings which hitherto have been enlisted in
*** of vivisection in the hope that something beneficial
may thus be discovered. The great majority of human
tº are, I fear, so selfish and callous that no ordinary
considerations have any effect upon them when they think
their own interests lie the other way. But if you show these
people that they may run some risk of being vivisected,
themselves, it will alter their views, amazingly, and make
them quite deaf to the vivisectors' promises of new cures
º prevention of disease.
º
£2.
&

s' are of this dastardly deed by telling ourselves
that we have the cause of our ſellow men at
heart. If “humanity” means anything at all, it
means the thinking, feeling, responsible in-
dividuals who compose it. These do not es-
cape the crime by each persuading his Con-
science that he sanctions it—oh, not for himself,
but for the sake of his dear brother | He knows.
- that his dear brother is ready to perform the
- same kind services for him, and that so all will
happily share the spoils, while nobody need
bear the responsibility of the means by which
they were acquired. **
We may rest assured, however, that each one
of us does bear thatresponsibility, let us soothe
our consciences as we will. If the deed of
cruelty is done with our sanction, or without
- our protest, in some form or another, the burden
\ of guilt must be ours, and some day we and our
s race will have to pay the penaltv.
##:
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-
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[Cassencary, Creetown, N. B. Scotland.]
- An Unpardonable Offense.
--
-
Rev. Dr. Irvine, in one of his eloquent Ser-
mons, says: “To neglect the poor, Speechless
beast, that cannot appeal in your tongue to the
commiseration of a passer by, is simply unpard-
onable, and the man who is guilty of such neg-
- lect is worse than a brute. The arrant infidelity
of Balaam, and his sordid love of money, are
- secondary crimes compared with his brutal
º abuse of the ass which he rode; and the º
º wrought a miracle to secure a loud remonstrance:
| We have but one instance in the whole Bible ºf
a dumb animal speaking, and the miracle W.
wrought to, condemn the sin of cruelty
animals ºre.”* -
It is God-like to protect those who cº-
not protect themselves. |
“If, when giving an account of our
works in that dread Day, WE would find M.
º remember that we will have to show the C
~ —º that during our lives on eart
- - shown Mercy to both man and beast.
`__ T-T- - -







-
-
What can be more touching than the sight a
that submissive confidence—the humble Obedience—
with which man is appealed to by those animal:
that support his ife?” “ In man's brutality tº
these the pathos of the brutes' submission is over
powering—John G. Shortall.




























THE GENIUS OF PITY STAYING
ATHE VIVISECTOR'S HAND
(After the recent symbolic painting, by Gabriel Max, Germany) -
[“The Genius of Pity stands besides a Physiol-
*ogist, holding in her hand a pair of scales. In
one scale is a human brain, surrounded with law-
rels; in another, a glowing heart. The scale
containing the heart, far outweighs the scale con-
taining the brain. The right arm of the Genius
is thrown round a bound and bleeding dog.”]
Behold the heavier scale, wherein Man’s heart
Doth far out-weigh his blood-enlaurelled brain,
Whilst, close beside, yon pitying Genius stands,
To stay the hand deep-skilled in craft of Pain |
E’en could ye point—-men of remorseless soul,
To lessened pangs among the human kind,
Still might we question of the final gain | | | | |
From hearts grown ruthless as the wintry wind ^
But when, from all your myriad victims slain,
By torments direr than the mind may know, *
Ye cannot point to one exalted truth, -
To set against whole hecatombs of woe,
Men in whose breast one spark of pity glows, i. -
Should wrest the scalpel from your tyrant hand,
To shield Man’s faithful, but defenceless friends
From miscalled Science, and her wolfish band 1
(Elliott Preston) -
-
- º
ectors
True character of Vivis
* “I do not believe that a single experi.
menter says to himself when he gives curari to
a rabbit, or cuts the spinal marrow of a dog,
or poisons a frog, “Here is an experiment
which will relieve or will cure the disease of
some man.” No, in truth, he does not think of
that ' He says to himself, “I shall clear up an
obscure point; I will seek out a new fact.
And this scientific curiosity (italics not in orig-
inal) which alone animates him, is explained by
the high idea he has formed of science. This
is why we pass our days in foetid laboratories,
surrounded by groaning creatures, in the midst
of blood and suffering, bent over palpitating
entrails.”—Dr. Richet, of Paris, in Revue des
Deua, Mondes, February 15, 1883.






But she is not long in taking fright at the strangeness º
a deserted house. She grows impatient, and then doubtful, an
unhappy, and by-and-by, as the hours go by, as night come
on and no one opens to her, she comes to know the worst
and her heart grows sore within her. In despair, knowin!
herself homeless and forsaken, she lifts up her voice and weep
and wails | -
-
And what wonder, after this shameful treatment
I have known many a human being to weep bitterly at th
loss of home for a few weeks or months only.
Puss is turned out “neck and crop º' for good and all ! For
if she appears at the window again in the autumn, she has
grown so unattractive in every way that she is considered quite
unfit to be taken in.
Oh, from what hard and cruel stuff must our hearts be
made when we can do such deeds !
I have known a cat thus deprived of its home to stay
about the place for weeks and months, each day coming back
to ask why she is cruelly treated, each day growing dirtier and
hungrier, more hopeless, unkempt and savage; until, finally,
with temper ruined, manners noisy and rude, coat all ugly with
dirt and scratches, she becomes a wretched, unhappy street
cat. - - º º
Roaming the streets, with every man's hand against her,
what wonder that she grows fierce and quarrelsome and noisy,
with her hand against every man
If she is not torn to pieces by dogs, if she does not starve
to death, she lives on—a wretched, wretched creature.
One of these poor creatures I found when I came home last
autumn. She was ill, starving, half-blind from disease; but I
put an end to her suffering with chloroform as soon as I could
catch her; and oh, the pity of it ! I found on making friends
with her that she must have been somebody’s pet, for she was
tame and gentle and affectionate as soon as she heard a
friendly voice and recognized a friendly hand. Poor little
creature she will never have to be cold or hungry or forsaken
any more. -.
- 3) wº- -











------------------> ******* - Lai 11 it tº . " ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' -
Now, tell me, you who left this cat to starve, would it have
een too much trouble to take her away with you into the
ountry, or to have found another home for her, or, these
hings being impossible, could you not have sent to the Society
send and mercifully kill her before you left town Or better
till, would it not have been more just if you had never given
*ourself the pleasure of having a cat at all, since you were not
repared to hold yourself responsible for its life and happiness?
My story is a true one. Year after year this thing hap-
pens; and it needs no prophecy to see that what has happened
will repeat itself this year and every year to come, until we give
thought and take pains that this thing shall not go on.
The steps to take are very simple. In the first place,
drown or chloroform the kittens you do not mean adequately to
provide for. Then, do not leave a creature to starve in the
streets or in your backyard—whether the animal is your own
jr whether it is a poor stray thing that comes under your notice.
If you cannot provide it with a home, send a line to the S.P.C.A.,
saying where it may be found (catch it beforehand, if possible),
and they will send their agent, who will mercifully destroy the
animal. True, we should be slow to waste any life that God .
aas made; but if we have been faithless to the trust. He laid
upon us when He gave us power over the animals, and if we
have allowed the ills of pain and hunger and homelessness to
come upon a helpless creature, then, if we cannot bring it back
to a happy existence, surely we owe it at least a merciful death.
Does it seem an insignificant subject for such serious
thought? I cannot think so, nor that weakness and suffering,
wherever found, do not call upon us to protect and spare—for
the sake of the dependent creature, for the sake of our own
souls, for the sake of God who alike created us all.
ANNIE. E. FISHER.
- Reprinted from the Boston Evening Transcript, by the Massachusetts
Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, 19 Milk St., Boston, Mass.
Price 28 cents per hundred at office, or 40 cents mailed.
[Those who would rather board their cats and dogs than kill them or turn
them adrift can do so at moderate cost on application by letter to H. B.
Knowles, South St., Newton Centre. Or, take an Oak Square electric at Tre-
mont House and get off at Lake St., Brighton.]

º
º A Vision.
º 'twixt the drawn forces of Night and
Morning, º
Strange visions steal down to the slumbers of,
men ; -
From heaven's bright stronghold once issued a
Warning,
Which baffled all scorning, when brought to my
ken.
Methought there descended the Saints and the
| Sages,
* With grief-stricken aspects and wringing of
hands,
Till Dreamland seemed filled with the anguish
of ages,
The blots of Time's pages, the woes of all lands.
And I, who had dreamed that their bliss knew
In O SOITOW
(Half vexed with their advent, half awed with
º their might)—
Cried, “Come ye from heaven, Earth's aspect to
borrow,
To mar with Wierd sorrow the peace of the
night?”
They answered me sternly, “Thy knowledge is
- mortal;
- Thou hear'st not as We must, the plants Without
tongue:
The wrongs that come beating the crystaline
portal,
Inflicted by mortals on those who are dumb.
They crumble to dust; but we, watchers re-
maining, -
Attest their endurance through centuries long,
Oh, fear ! lest in future to judgment attaining,
| These lives, uncomplaining, wax awful and
strong.” Julia Verplanek
º



“As ancient is this hostelry
As any in the land may be ,
Built in the old Colonial day,
When men lived in a grander way,
With ampler /ospitality.”

- -
Kindness of the Ancient
º Greeks. -
ºf Perhaps of all ancient nations the Greeks
were the most merciful to animals: in fact,
with them the laws of justice and mercy were
observed as a part of their mythological religion.
People endowed with such sacred attributes
could not be otherwise than great, and conse-
quently we read of their wonderful deeds of
valor, and view the remains of their temples,
their cities, and the grandeur of their architect-
ure with less surprise than would be excited
did we not know the history of their nation.
An eloquent writer has observed: -
“Death and torture formed no portion of
the daily pastimes of the Greeks; on the con-
trary, they were sternly opposed to cruelty;
and one of the three laws or rather precepts of
Triptolemus was : “Hurt not animals.” A strik-
ing instance of their abhorrence of cruelty is
related by Phocius, who expatiates with delight
on the illustration it offers of wisdom tempered
with an admirable spirit of humanity. The
Areopagitaes of Athens were famous for the
a justice of their decisions. One day they were
assembled on a mountain, with no other roof
but the canopy of heaven. A sparrow, pursued
by a hawk, fled into the midst of them for
refuge; it took shelter in the bosom of one of
them, a man naturally of a harsh and repulsive
disposition, who, taking hold of the little
trembler, threw it from him with such violence
that it was killed on the spot. The whole
assembly was filled with indignation at the
cruelty of the deed; the author of it was
arraigned as an aliento that sentiment of mercy
so necessary to the administration of justice,
and by the unanimous suffrages of his colleagues
was degraded from the senatorial dignity which
he had so much disgraced. It was not only a
part of the education of the Greeks, but, as has
been before remarked, it was one of the tenets
of their religion to inculcate a proper obser-
vance of the rights of animals. Although the
lives of their poets were ideal, their teachings
\ were never false in principle, and their states-
men were always true to the cause of justice.
From this brief outline of the Greek char-
acter we can readily understand how that nation
will ever be known as the grandest of ancient
times.” - - -





º The greatest of German naturalists, Alex.
V. Humboldt, declared “Cruelty to animals is
the characteristic vice of a vulgar, base nation
or individual.” -
indness to animals is no unworthy exer-
gise of benevolence. The inevitable shortness
then of their existence should plead for them
- F. The insects on the surface of the y
| Water, poor ephemeral things, who would need- )
lessly abridge their dancing pleasures of to-day? f
Such feelings we should have towards the whole
animal creation. We have positive duties to
perform to those animals over whom We are
master for however short a time. This seems
too obvious to be insisted upon; but there are
- - persons who act as though they thought they i
could buy the right of ill-treating any of God's
creatures. We should never in any way consent
to the ill-treatment of animals, because the
fear of , idicule or any other fear, prevents our
interfering. As to their being anything really
- trifling in any act of humanity, however slight, it
is moral blindness to suppose so. The few
moments in the course of each day which a
man absorbs in some worldly pursuit may care-
lessly expend in kind words or trifling chari- -
ties those around him, and kindness to an
animal is one of these, are perhaps, in the sight
of Heaven, the only time that he has lived to
any purpose worthy of recording.”
º (Sir Arthur Helps' Essay on the Exercise of *
-
* He shall have judgment without mercy,
who has shown no mercy.” (Bible).







sphere to restore the balance between * -
and Wrong. º
- *
“Sweet Mercy is Nobility’s true Badge.”
—SHAKESPEARE
- -- *
A Place in Heaven."
-
Behrynge, the pilgrim, lifting up his head, ". -
Saw the Death Angel standing near his bed, *
And heard him say in accents calm and cold,
“The names I Write within the Book of Gold
Are names of those whose place in heaven is
WOn.
To gain this place what hast thou ever done?”
Behrynge the pilgrim struck upon his breast,
“Alas! full many a law have I transgressed,
Yet, at God’s feet, for creatures He hath made
Both mute and helpless, all my life I laid,
And prayed Him daily that my strength might
be -
Their faithful safeguard, as He guarded me.
The dumb beast's cause I plead through all the
land,
And stayed the torture of the oppressor's hand,
With righteous wrath I awed the mind
My life, my all, to the great work I gave,
Yet, know I not if deeds like these can save.”
The angel vanished. When at heaven's gate
Behrynge the pilgrim sadly came to wait,
Lo! the pearl portals flew asunder far.
A light shone round him like a glorious star,
And a voice said, “Thy sins are all forgiven,
Love for the helpless won thy place in Heaven.”



AN ANIMA L S FRIEND.
A T R U E S TO R Y .
*Scity, and every morning went to the main railway
$: years ago I lived in a large Western American
station about daylight to catch a ride on a switch en-
gine. I often noticed a poor, forlorn man who wan-
dered between the long rows of passenger coaches gath-
ering up the remnants of lunches thrown out of the cars
by the porters and sweepers. These empty trains had
arrived during the night and early morning, and gave
quite a harvest of paper bags and cheap baskets contain-
ing food. The man was a poor, harmless looking chap, evi-
dently a tramp, and the stuff that he picked up he trans-
ferred to an old hand-satchel of large size. He waited until
the last of the night trains arrived so as to further increase
his lunch stock. No one but I seemed to notice the man,
and he spoke to no one. He was but a poor, worn wreck
to look at, delicate in health and shabby in attire.
One morning I saw my tramp of the railway station
examining some crates of live poultry that had just been
unloaded from express vans. The tramp seemed to study
over the condition of the fowls. I was not in a hurry,
so, lighting a cigar, I stopped and watched him. He was
feeding the fowls from the contents of his well-filled
satchel, and was entirely absorbed in this, seeming to be
* particular that the weaker ones got their share of the
food, and he often moistened pieces of bread from a bottle
of water that he also had, seemingly for that purpose.
At last I crossed the street and said to him that I thought
he was doing a good action; he smiled in a sad way, and
said that some of the poor things often came hundreds
of miles without food, and arrived in nearly a starving
condition. - /−1 & 2



I offered him a cigar, which he declined, saying that
he had never used tobacco in any form. A package of
ripe fruit that I had he accepted gratefully. I then asked
him about himself, and he told me his story.
He had once been prosperous, but he had been be-
trayed by a false wife and a false friend. Illness and
poverty followed, and at last his troubles so affected his
mind that he became unable to hold a lucrative position
anywhere. Sometimes he got a light job and earned a
trifle. The night engineer of a flour mill had been very
kind to him; allowed him to sleep at the mill, and had
given him some wearing apparel.
He said, in conclusion, that he had had from child-
hood a warm affection and sympathy for all dumb
creatures; he believed that he understood them; he
recognized in them many noble traits—love and sym-
pathy, gratitude and humility. He regularly fed the
poultry and stray dogs; in cold weather he replaced the
coverings of horses, adjusted their feeds bags when
necessary; and in hot weather it was a pleasure to him
to get water for the horses that were thirsty. He said
that the look from their beautiful eyes was thanks
enough for him. “It is but little that I can do,” he said;
“but so much I do, wishing, though, that I could do more,
and I often think how much kindness and mercy might
be shown for the dumb creatures if all would try and do
a little, and how much it would ennoble human nature,
to do so.” -
The homely moralizing of the poor man touched my
heart. I felt a veneration for him; and a feeling of
shame came over me, that I, also a lover of animals, and
a sympathiser with them—I who was prosperous, had
done so little for them in any way.
I felt attracted to the man, and was loath to leave
him. I asked him if he would have some breakfast; he
replied that he had already eaten sufficiently. I asked
him to come and pledge me to better luck and good times
coming. “No” he said, “I am not accustomed to drink.”
I then offered him some money, which he was inclined at
first to refuse, but he took it when I earnestly told him
that if he did not I would throw it into the middle of the

street. I shook hands with him and thanked him, saying
that I wished I could do him as much good as he had
done me. When I walked away I instinctively felt that
I had met a far better man than myself. M. C. J.
* , .
Price. 25c. per 100, post-paid. Anti-Vivisection Print, Aurora, Ill. .

2.
ſ t T--
* of life is not t -
Tº
F OR PITY'S S A. K.E.
º-º- Z223
º º
- * * * * *-ºſ ºf Yº Nº.
-- C U N \ſ
A Story for the Złmes
Being Æeminiscences of a Guest
... aſ a Country /mn
BY
SARAH NELSON. QARTER
DEWOLFE, FISKE & COMPANY
BOSTON, MASS.
Tºbe Tinbower pregg, Tinbower, flyagg.
Can They Suffer? - - -
---
The day may come when the rest of the
animal creation may acquire those rights which
never could have been withheld from them but
by the hand of tyranny. It may come one day
to be recognized that the number of legs, or the
Villosity of the skin are reasons insufficient for
abandoning a sensitive being to the caprice of a
formentor. What else is it that should trage
the insuperable line 2 Is it the faculty of -
reason, or perhaps the faculty of discourse?
But a full-grown horse or dog is beyond com: O ºr
Pºlson a more rational as well as a more con- -
Versable animal than an infant of a day, a
Week, or even a month old. But Suppose the -
case Were otherwise, what could it avail? The
question is not “Can they REAsonzº nor “Can
they SPEAK?” but “Can they surrºr?”
- Bentham.
Copyright, 1897,
BY SARAH NELson CARTER.
4///eights Aeserved.
Her Most Gracious Majesty Queen Victoria,
Patron of the Royal Society for the Prevention
of Cruelty to Animals, made this memorable
and beautiful speech, to the Society, on her
Jubilee Festival:
“It gives me great pleasure to receive your
loyal and dutiful address of congratulation on
the completion of the Fiftieth year of my reign.
“Amongst other marks of the spread of
enlightenment amongst my subjects, I notice in
particular, with real pleasure, the growth of
more humane feelings towards the lower
animals; no civilization is complete which does
not include the dumb and defenceless of God's
creatures within the sphere of charity and
mercy.
“The labours of your Society have done
much to promote this moral progress; and for
the sake alike of human nature and of the
happiness of the animal creation by which wº
are surrounded, I trust that you will persever-
in your noble aims in which you will continue
- in a urº Tºrº "ºlºll ºl l (1 ſºlº E_SVTOLlloº





ABOUT POOR PUSS.
By one who LovES HER.
IN the spring and early summer, when our thoughts are
looking countryward with longing, I begin to have serious
doubts of the loveliness of the human race. And as days and
weeks go by the conviction is forced upon me that my doubts
were prophetic ; for I see that, whether from thoughtlessness or
from that lack of imagination which makes men sometimes
blind to the suffering that exists outside themselves, heartless
deeds are being done by some of our people. Listen to what I
have to tell. The time is the spring, and one by one the
dwellers of the town are turning their steps towards green fields
t

nd mountain and sea. Here is a house that has been dis-
lantled for the season, the last load of summer belongings
as been sent off on the van, the last trunk packed and thrown
in the cab, the door is locked, the cab door shut and the
amily are off with hearts and heads full of the freedom and
jeauty and rest lying before them.
But one poor little heart is left behind 1
A pretty little purring thing; a little dependent, who,
above everything, loves her home, has been thrown upon the
sold world, her friends have departed, her own door is closed
tgainst her
Everybody knows that whatever intelligence and affection
he may lack, one thing is surely true of this little creature, she
s “attached to locality.”
Yes, it is true—she is “attached to locality”—and that
locality happens to be her home ! And so am I, and so are we,
all “attached” to that particular locality we call “home,”
and many a man and many a creature has died because of it—
they have been sick unto death—for home !
And poor puss—for she is the heroine of my little story—
what does she do when she discovers the dreadful truth that she
is deserted 2 When she comes home, I cannot believe she is
driven out of the house at the last moment of departure, at
the very last let us think that she is only forgotten—when she
comes home after her small sports of the morning, and taps at
her own familiar window-pane, no one answers her greeting.
How dear she always is when we open the window and take her
in—how glad to get home ! How she purrs and rubs up against
her friends ! How she coaxes and flatters till the best of cream
seems none too good for her ladyship ! But today no one opens
to her knocking. -
“This is unusual, and somewhat inconsiderate,” she Says
to herself; “but I, a loyal member of this household, will not,
by my importunity, seem to criticise its lack of promptness. I
will take another turn in the garden; I will hunt another mouse;
I will again go and make faces at that forward cat that Suns
herself on my fence tº And so puss whiles away an hour or
two before she returns to her knocking.
(9) -
~ *


- ºf
what is termed a dropped fox, or one brought from another part of
- the country, was used for the hunt. We consider such sport where
º the animal hunted is a wild fox, cruel enough; there, however, the |
- animal knowing the country, and the various means of baffling its
pursuers, has some chance of escape, but in the case.of a dropped
or partially tame fox such as was used on New Year's day, we have
scarcely terms at our command, strong enough to express our
indignation. What can be more cruel than to take a poor trem-
| bling little creature and turn him out, not knowing where he shall
go or where he can take refuge, feeling the agony of knowing that |
- the fierce dogs are after him, and in spite of all his efforts, he can-
not escape them long, for he is a stranger in an unknown country,
running, panting, and gasping until his tired limbs can support him
no longer, and then in his anguish feeling the hounds upon him as
they tear him to pieces? Can it be that civilized, enlightened men,
join in this sport, so called P Yes, and women too; women not only
º proud of their cultivation and refinement but calling themselves
Christians, followers of the loving, tender Jesus, who said: “Blessed
- are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.” Where are their
hearts and their consciences? *.
f A discourse, delivered one Sunday lately by Newton M. Mann, of
Omaha, has just been sent to us, from which we learn, much to our
surprise, that of all the nations of antiquity, none was so devoted to
the care and protection of the animal creation as the ancestors of the
| Persians, called the people of Iran, who founded a mighty empire
by the shores of the Caspian Sea, thousands of years ago. They
had a prophet named Zarathustra, and from him they are sometimes
Acalled Zarathustrans. Very considerable fragments of his teaching
remain, and of these, injunctions of kindness to animals form a
notable part. There are specific penalties for all sorts of cruelties
| perpetrated upon dumb beasts; explicit directions as to their care
and the proper treatment of their diseases, and all given in the
same solemn form as the laws for the protection of human beings.
It even formed a part of their religion, one of their chants being:
“O Lord, pure and fair, we will be sincere; what we believe,
that will we profess and do. This is the highest service we can
render Thee. So with heart and hand we pray that for the cattle
pleasantness and fodder may be distributed ; to the oxen and the
cows, to the strong and the weak.”
| And here is a part of the confession of sin to be recited by all
the faithful: *
tº -
l, ſº “Of all and every kind of sin which I have committed agains-


IO - º
Thy creatures, against dogs, birds, or any kind of animal, if I have
offended against any of them, I repent it with thoughts, words, and
works, corporeal as spiritual, earthly as heavenly, with the three-
words: O Lord, pardon I repent of sin.” - º
Then the penitent goes over the ground more explicitly, and
SayS:
“Of all sins that I have committed against any creature of the
field, if I have beaten it, tortured it, slain it wrongfully; if I have
not given it fodder at the right time; if I have mutilated it, not
protected it from the robber, the wolf, and the waylayer; if I have
not protected it from extreme heat and cold, I repent in thought, -
word, and works. O Lord, pardon I repent of sin.”
If these were the customs and these the prayers of a people that
lived so long ago without the light of Christianity, ought not we
with all our advantages, to be grieved and mortified that we have
not done more for God's helpless creatures than we have done? If
Christ regards, as he has told us that He would, any kindness done
to the least of His brethren as done unto Him, will He not look
with favor upon a kindness done unto those even lower than the
least of His brethren. -
Respectfully submitted by
CAROLINE EARLE WHITE.
One feels when reading an account of the
horrors perpetrated in the vivisectionist's labo-
ratories that if those experimentalists would
leave the lower animals (as they are called)
alone and would vivisect each other, society and
science would be all the better for the change,
and what is now sickening literature, and noth-
ing else, would become in the hands of a graphic
chronicler as interesting as the account of a
trial for murder in France or a description of a
Chinese execution. (English paper) -
-
-#
|
.






F-
:
- %
º
A. The Tapestry Weaverº, -
\
ºr
Let us take to our hearts a lesson—no
lesson can braver be—
From the ways of the tapestry weavers on
the other side of the sea.
Above their heads the pattern hangs, they
study it with care,
The while their fingers deftly work, their
eyes are fastened there.
They tell this curious thing, besides, of
the patient plodding weaver,
He works on the wrong side évermore,
but works for the right side ever.
It is only when the weaving stops and the
web is loosed and turned,
That he sees his real handiwork—that his
marvelous skill is learned.
Ah! the sight of its delicate beauty, how
it pays him for all his cost!
No rarer, daintier work than his, was ever
done by the frost.
Then the master bringeth him golden hire,
and giveth him praise as well,
/~/~~
3.
º
$#&@


; : - - -:
* And how happy the heart of the weaver is, #
no tongue but his own can tell.
The years of man are the looms of God,
let down from the place of the stºn,
Wherein we are weaving alway, till the
mystic web is done;
Weaving blindly, but weaving surely, each
for himself his fate; -
We may not see how the right side looks, -
we can only weave and wait.
But, looking above for the pattern, no
weaver need have fear,
*
Only let him look clear into heaven—the
Perfect Pattern is there.
If he keeps the face of our Saviour, for
ever and always in sight,
| His toil shall be sweeter than honey, his [...]
weaving is sure to be right. º
And when his task is ended, and the web |
is turned and shown, -
He shall hear the voice of the Master, it
shall say to him : “Well done '''
And the white-winged angels of heaven,
to bear him thence shall come down, Hº
And God for his wage shall give him—not
coin, but a golden crown.
% --- ...;
S. Mearns, 19 farctay St., W. J .
i


º º
In an inscription on an Egyptian memorial
there is evidence that acts of cruelty in high
places by educated men were severely punished
in the days of the twenty-fifth dynasty in the
land of the Pharaohs. Dr. Brugsch thus trans-
lates the passage to which we refer : -
“When his majesty visited the stables and
forgotten that the shadow of God rests upon
me? The proof thereof shall not be wanting to
Him on my part. Would that another had done
such a thing to me, an ignorant man, not a
haughty one, as he is. I was born out of my
mother's womb, and created out of the egg of a
divine essence. I was begotten by a God—by
his name; I will not forget Him in what He has
§
the studs of foals, he observed that they had
let them starve. He said “I swear, as surely as
the youthful Sun-god Ra loves me, as surely as
I breathe in life, it is a viler thing to my heart
to let the horses starve than all the other faults
that thou hast committed. That thou hast laid
thy heart bare through this, evidence is fur-
nished me of thy habitual views. Hast thou
commanded me to do.” Then he ordered his
(Nimrod's) possessions to be assigned to the
treasury, and his granaries to the property of
the government. Amen of Apet.”
(PHARAOH WOULD HAVE MADE SHORT WORK
| OF THE VIVISECTORS.)
—From “Our Animal Friends,” New York.
stone discovered recently at Mount Barkºi."
-














The Speechless.
BY ANNA DRURY, (England.)
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aſſi leſ pub ººººººos /o ſº， ſº zºº ºsae，
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every provision, the world over, for the suffer-
ing of our own race, and but little for the patient
faithful, speechless servants who devote their
- “Pray, my dear friend, remember that there is
t lives to us.”
(S. Morris Waln.)
FOR PITY'S SAKE º
“Are dumb animals immortal 2 Do you
believe in a future life for the lower orders of
creation ? Do you expect to meet your good
old horse ‘Safety’ in heaven º’’
These questions were hurriedly asked by a
young “theologue,” who, surprised at his own
audacity, was yet so much in earnest that it was
clear that he regarded the subject as worthy to
be considered by the wisest heads in the land.
The questions were addressed to a Professor
of Theology, whose name is known and revered
in two hemispheres.
Although the young man's tone was slightly
aggressive, it was not uncomplimentary. His
manner implied that he expected an immediate
and satisfactory answer to any question he
might propound ; whether it pertained to time or
eternity, to life, death, or immortality, to
anything in the heavens above, the earth be-
neath, or the waters under the earth.
I shall never forget the impressive air of the
grand old man, as turning his keen eye upon
the questioner, he slowly and solemnly said,
8 AſOA” A/Z'Y',S SAATA2.
“Are dumb animals immortal? Young man!
I don't know ! But if you have one of God's
dumb creatures dependent on you for food and
care, I advise you, so to treat it in this world,
that you will not be ashamed to look it in the
face if you chance to meet it in the next.”
The Professor was the centre of a little
group of men and women sitting in the twilight
on the veranda of a country inn. There were
guests who were staying late to behold the
glory of the autumn foliage; young men who
were studying the great religious truths in the
renowned Theological Seminary across the
way ; and still younger students of the far
famed Academy on the slope of the “Hill.” I
was seated on the other side of the veranda
where I could easily hear the conversation with-
out feeling that I was an eaves-dropper. All
eyes were fixed upon the Professor as he
spoke, and eager faces showed the interest felt
in hearing his views on the subject, but beyond
giving this bit of sensible advice, the wise man
said not a word. For a moment there was a
silence almost painful. It was broken, however,
by the arrival of a man evidently well known to
most of the party, who drove up in a little open
wagon, alighted, and joined the group.
“What do you think, Mr. Gates ?” said one,

AſO/C A/7').”.S. SAA E. 9
“Do you believe that dumb animals have
souls 2 ''
“Souls Bless you !” replied Mr. Gates,
“I have seen in my life many a man who had a
smaller soul than my Abdallah, here.”
The horse, a beautiful bright bay, on hearing
his name, turned and walked slowly towards
the house as if he had a right to follow his
master wherever he went. Mr. Gates stepped
down, met him half way, took him gently by
the bridle and cheerily said, -
“You want to come up on the piazza with
white folks — don't you Abdallah " Then
with a loving pat on his sleek neck led him
quietly back to the post, and continued, “This
horse is such a social, companionable fellow
that I really pity him because he can't speak.”
“If animals had that faculty,” rejoined the
Professor with a merry twinkle in his eye,
“many a man would get his deserts as did
Balaam of old. Do you know that the Bible
mentions only this one instance of a dumb
animal speaking And that this miracle was
performed that the lowliest of creatures might
rebuke her brutal master for cruelly beating
her ?”
“Yes,” said Mr. Gates, “and I should like to
See a few more miracles wrought on that same


IO A’OA” AZZ"Y’.S. SAATA2.
line. If any sin calls for a miracle, it is the
sin of cruelty to the defenceless. But, begging
your pardon, Professor, you are not quite up-to-
date in your estimate of the ass. I have just
read a very interesting magazine article, in
which the writer claims that the ass has dis-
tinctly more character and intelligence than
the horse; that his ‘stubbornness' is simply
sticking to his own ideas because he believes
in them, and in his ability to carry them out.
* High and mighty,' seems to apply to an
animal of that description rather than lowly.”
“I do not question the intelligence of the
beast when I call it lowly ’’ replied the Profes-
sor. “Certainly, the ass of Holy Writ showed
no lack of wisdom. What appeals to me most
strongly in the character of the ass is its
patience in long-suffering. There is a sad con-
trast between the life of the wild ass of earliest
records, a synonym of freedom, and that of the
abject burden bearer of later times. The creat-
ure has been so roughly used by civilization
that I have a peculiar sympathy for it.”
“The treatment of domestic animals to-day
does little credit to our boasted civilization,”
said Mr. Gates. “As I look at it, civilized
man might get some points well worth the get:
ting, from the old heathen religions. Founded
AſOA’ A/Z'Y’.S. SAATA2. II.
on the belief that all life is divine, they did not
forget the humblest of God's creatures in their
decrees. The sacred books of the Parsees lay
down laws for the protection of beasts that put
our weak statutes to shame. Buddha said “Thy
future birth will be unhappy if thou doest cruel
things.’ The belief in transmigration of souls
through the bodies of animals no doubt has
done much to prevent their abuse. I have
always looked upon that belief as a direct dis-
pensation of Divine Providence for the protec-
tion of animals. As someone says, “Where is
the man who would strike his dog a cruel blow
if he believed that some long lost friend was
looking at him through the creature's pathetic
eyes ' When I see a brute of a man banging
and jerking a horse for doing what the man
only is to blame for, I confess that I feel very
tenderly towards a faith that promises pain for
him, of the same kind that he so mercilessly
inflicts; even though its conception of punish-
ment is colored by barbarism.”
“I know,” said the Professor thoughtfully,
“ that Lecky says in his European Morals'
‘The Mohammedans and the Brahmins have
considerably surpassed the Christians in the in-
culcation of humanity on a large scale,' but a
late writer who has lived long in the East, shows
º
º

I 2 AſO/C A/7'Y',S SAAT/E.
the dark side of the transmigration cult when
he tells us that a horse with a broken leg is left
where it falls for the crows to pick out its
eyes;– that no man dares to put an end to its
miseries for the fear that it may be the soul of
one of his kin that gives life to the beast. So
you see, Mr. Gates, that the results of a belief
in transmigration are not always to the animal's
advantage.”
“True, no doubt,” replied Mr. Gates, “still I
believe that its general tendency is on the side
of humanity. Dumb animals have a hard time
of it whether they fall into the hands of Pagan
or Christian. It constantly surprises me that
all these centuries of Christianity have not
brought about a more humane treatment of the
brute creation. If thinking people would take
more pains to show sympathy for the woes of
dumb creatures, and more interest in the move-
ments for their benefit, no end of good would
come of it ; and not to the animals alone,
for we all know that the cultivation of kind and
tender feelings in the heart of man means a
refining influence on society.
If I were a member of the committee to ar-
range the international Sunday School lessons,
I would propose to have one Sunday in each
month devoted to the study of animal life and

A'O/C A/7')/ 'S' SAA E. I3
history; to teaching the true relations of the
lower orders of creation to man, and the chris-
tian duty of kindly treating all God's speech-
less creatures. Think how interesting the
subject, how broad its compass, what a knowl-
edge and love of nature a wise handling of it
would develop. There is no lack of Bible texts
for leaders, and no need of straying from the
principles that underlie the Sermon on the
Mount.
The children read that Christ was born in a
manger. Tell them, as Dr. Talmage said in
a sermon on the Nativity, that He was born in
a stable ; that the infant Savior lived the first
days of his life with the dogs, the asses, the
camels, the cows and the oxen all about Him ;
that He came to alleviate suffering, as well as
to bring peace and good-will to men ; and the
dumb beasts that were crowded into that barn,
with all the animals they represent, have a
share in the hope and joy of His coming. Tell
them that the risen Christ to-day knows how
these helpless creatures are abused by man-
kind. º
I wish this plan could be tried. The earlier
children learn to respect the feelings and rights
of dumb animals, the sooner the millennium
will begin.” -


I4 A'OA2 A3/7'Y',S SAATA2.
y
“It is a simple christian duty " said the Pro-
fessor, “to develope in children a spirit of
kindness towards all God's creatures, not only
in Sunday School, but in the public schools and
in all organizations for training the young. I
agree with you, that there is an unaccountable
apathy in regard to this subject among good
people. Perhaps they have such trust in the
humane societies that they tacitly leave this
matter to the Society for the Prevention of
Cruelty, as its own special province.”
“Our Society has done, and is doing a
glorious work,” Mr. Gates replied ; “but as
Some one has put it, “It is efficient but not suf-
ficient,’ O ! if all good men and women every-
where would only do what they can to uphold
and assist it. When churches, schools, Young
Men's and Young Women's Christian Associa-
tions, Epworth Leagues, Christian Endeavorers,
and women's clubs, all own it as part of their
mission to preach and to teach this wide world
over the gospel of kindness to dumb, helpless
creatures, a new era of civilization will begin.
No man has a right to call himself a Christian
who does not give christian care to the dumb
animals that are dependent upon him. You'll
find it hard to believe a little story I’m going
to tell you but I know it to be a fact, though
FOA' PZZY'S SAKAE. I5
I am glad to say that it is a very unusual case.
One hot Sunday morning in July, a minister
of the Gospel, who shall be nameless as he is
heartless, got a team from a livery stable and
drove out four or five miles from home to
preach in a neighboring town. He tied the
horse in the meeting-house shed and left him
there. He preached in the morning — went
home with a parishioner to dinner — conducted
services in the afternoon — accepted the invita-
tion of another friend to supper and not until
after the evening service did he drive home.
The horse stood in harness all that live-long,
hot, summer day without a morsel of food or a
drop of water. Very likely the poor beast was
thankful that he was not tied out in the burn-
ing Sun. The owner of the horse said that
the creature was ready to drop, when driven
into the stable. He made inquiry and found
out the shameful truth.”
“Do tell us that man's name,” cried one.
“. It is too inhuman to believe ſ” exclaimed
another.
“He ought to have been arrested ſ” said a
third.
“You’ll sit under his preaching some day
perhaps, so I'll not spoil the good it may do
you by telling his name,” continued Mr. Gates:

I6 AſO/C A/Z"Y”.S. SAATE.
“but if I ever go into a church and find him in
the pulpit, something will call me outside at
once.”
“You haven't told us yet, Mr. Gates,” said
the theologue, “what you think about a future
life for the lower animals.”
“As to the question of immortality,” was the
reply, “I am by no means ready to declare my
belief in it, but I consider it a subject not
beneath the dignity of man to study and investi-
gate as far as it may be done. There are still
more things in heaven and earth than are
dreampt of in our philosophy.
If not an atom of matter in the physical
world is lost, why should the spirit that vivifies
it vanish from the universe, even though it is
only the soul of a dog
Is man so well acquainted with the nature
and laws of the vital force—is his own place in
the scale of spirits so high, that he dares assert
that inferior beings closely connected with him
in this life will have no future for development
or compensation ?
Do not the lower animals have many of the
same faculties that man possesses, although in
a different degree ? May not many of the
arguments used to prove man's immortality,



APOA’ A/7')?’,S SAATA2. 17
also tend to prove the same for beings lower in
the scale of life 2
One who believes in a law of compensation
must think that somehow, somewhere, the help-
less sufferers that have no comfort or joy in
this world, will yet have reason to feel that life
is worth living.
I remember that Henry Ward Beecher once
said, ‘Why if horses and dogs have not souls
to be saved, what, in Heaven's name, will be-
come of their masters ? For fidelity, devotion,
for love, many a two-legged animal is below
the dog and the horse. Happy would it be
for thousands of people if they could stand at
last before the judgment seat of Christ and say,
‘I have loved as truly and I have lived as
decently as my dog,' and yet we call them
only brutes.' -
Dr. Talmage said, ‘I should not wonder if
the horse, so banged and bruised and beaten
and outraged on earth, should have some other
place where his wrongs shall be righted.' He
does not assert it, but says that he should not
be surprised if, after all, St. John's descriptions
of the horses in Heaven turned out to be not
altogether figurative.’ I wish Dr. Talmage's
grand and ringing words in defense of the
horse could be heard around the world.

18 AWO/C A/Z"Y”.S. SAAT/E.
Animals figure so largely in the visions and
dreams of prophets and apostles, no wonder
one is tempted to think that the Bible descrip-
tions may be literal after all. Horses play a
most important part in the grand pageants of
the Apocalypse.
Imagine, if you can, what this world would be
without a horse to drive, a dog to run after
you, or a handsome, lazy cat to pose before the
fire. I, for one, think it would be a mighty
dull place; and one is forced to think that the
next world might be a trifle dull without them
too. When I read “Beyond the Gates,' I was
right glad to meet that fine dog on the door-
step of the home in heaven. “The heaven of
‘Gates Ajar’ was really the first heaven that
ever gave me much satisfaction.”
Mr. Gates, who had several times paused
with a glance at the Professor, now laughingly
said, “But I didn’t come over here to read the
service, preach the sermon, and sing all the
hymns, I think it is about time for me to be
dismissed by the congregation.”
Here, many voices chimed in with “Oh
no,”—“Don’t stop,”—“Go on, go on,”—“We
want to hear every word you will say and more
y y
too.
“Do you think it a good plan to clip horses

A’OA’ A/Z"Y”.S. SAAT/E. I9
in winter 2" asked a young lady who had not
spoken before.
“Well | Miss Kate,” replied Mr. Gates with
a significant smile, “I know some most excel-
lent people who drive clipped horses. In fact
I have to agree to disagree with my best friend
on that question. But, for myself, when on a
frosty morning I see milady wrapped in furs
from her bonnet to her boots, getting into her
carriage where fur robes wait to cover her, —
milord in seal cap and gloves with his fur-lined
ulster buttoned to the chin , — the coachman
enveloped in fur cape and rug, — while the
horses stand shivering at the curb, deprived of
the only covering nature has given them for
protection against the cold, I cannot help
thinking there is a screw loose somewhere.
If people who will persist in clipping their
horses would leave the legs unclipped below
the knee, they would save themselves much
trouble and cause less suffering to the animals.
The fetlock evidently serves a purpose designed
for it by the Creator. Man shears it off when
cold weather sets in ; then spends the rest of
the season doctoring the horse for mud-fever
and scratches. There may be some sense
in cutting the hair off in the spring when
horses are shedding the winter coat ; but


2O AWOAZ /2/7"Y”.S. SAAT/E.
I call it downright cruelty to clip in winter,
horses that are used for ordinary driving
and standing about. If any benefit comes
from it, the groom gets it. It is a labor-
saving invention for him, You will find
everywhere that grooms and professional clip-
pers are the strongest advocates in favor of the
practice. It is plain enough to be seen that
they have an eye to their own profit.”
This silenced Miss Kate, who asked no
more questions; but two Academy students
who had been interested listeners kept the ball
in motion.
“What do you think of docking 2" asked one
of them.
“Don’t ask me Harry, what I think of dock-
ing,” protested Mr. Gates. “It is an outrage
that is a disgrace to civilization. It is a
fashion – a fad, that will pass by in time, and
all its followers who are not utterly heartless
will yet feel ashamed of having taken part in
such abuse of a noble animal. The butterflies
of fashion are in a great measure accountable
for this unmerciful treatment of the horse, and
a heavy sin lies at their door.”
Here the rich voice of the Professor inter-
rupted the speaker, and every familiar word
had fresh significance as it fell from his lips.

A'OA’ Z2/7"Y”.S. SAATA. 2 I
“‘A righteous man regardeth the life of his
beast, but the tender mercies of the wicked are
cruel.’ -
‘Consider the ravens, God feedeth them.’
‘He causeth the grass to grow for the cattle.’
‘He sendeth the springs into the valleys ;
they give drink to every beast of the field.’
‘A sparrow shall not fall to the ground with-
out your Father.’
“Be ye therefore merciful as your Father
also is merciful.”
“A merciful man is merciful to his beast.’
‘Blessed are the merciful for they shall ob-
tain mercy.’
‘He shall have judgment without mercy who
has shown no mercy.’”
Then without further comment the Professor
rose from his seat, bade all a cordial good-night
and walked away.
“The Professor leaves us to infer,” remarked
one, “that people who are so merciless as to
have their horses' tails docked, will be likely to
get cold comfort when they beg for mercy
themselves. It is a damnable thing to do, any-
way.” -
Harry turned to the theologue whose ques-
tions had begun the conversation. “The
Professor is too sharp for you. You didn't

22 - A'OA” A/Z"V’.S. SAATA2.
get much out of him, did you, Mr. Leigh 2"
“Yes,” returned Mr. Leigh, “I think I did ;
although he didn't answer the questions I
asked him. He is sharp enough to keep on
the safe side. He can quote more scripture
than any man I ever knew, and it always comes
in ‘pat.' I believe he has every word of it
from cover to cover at his tongue's end. It is
very convenient for him when he doesn't mean
to commit himself.”
Just then, a lazy old Concord coach, one of
the last of its race, came lumbering up to the
door of the inn ; a merry party of young people
on the top and a few gray-haired veterans in-
side. They knew that a late supper awaited
them, so they simply bowed their greetings to
friends on the veranda and hurried in.
The driver, unique from his broad-brimmed
hat to his broad-toed shoes, his square shoulders
built for “Saratogas” to rest upon, his sturdy
frame to walk erect under their weight, was a
survival of a class that with the old stage coach
is fast passing away. One of the passengers
tarried outside, grip-sack in hand, talking with
him. -
A handsome Newfoundland dog that had
been lying quietly on the cool grass in a shel-
tered corner, watched this interview for a

AſOA’ A/7'Y',S SAAT/2. 23
minute, then got up and without as much as
“by your leave,” took the grip-sack from the
owner's hand, carried it into the office and
laid it carefully down.
“By Jove,” exclaimed the stranger, “Is that
the kind of a porter you keep here 2 Who
-
--~~~
---
—º-*: aeszow Eng Co
--- ~~~~ *
owns that dog º Can I buy him for fifty
dollars 2 ”
“ Not much,” answered the driver, with a
suspicion of disdain in his tone. “His master
would as quick think of sellin' his gran'-mother







24 A'O/C A/7').”.S. SAATA.
The great dog understood that he had met
with approval and with a satisfied wag of his
bushy tail went back to his cool corner and
threw himself down.
“That dog is a wonder,” said Mr. Leigh, “I
have watched him many times when I knew he
was trying to reason out a thing, and somehow,
he always got there. I suppose you will say
it is instinct ; but one may read pages of learned
words on the subject, and still find it just as
hard to draw the line between the instinct of
an elephant, and the reason of the human
animal that lives with him in the jungle. The
old theories that brutes are merely soulless
machines; that their habits are fixed for all
time, have been exploded by evolution,- which
finds no impassable gulf between the mental
processes of man and those of the lower
animals. What next, but continued develop-
ment and endless life for all 2
I have somewhere read that a trained ele-
phant, when laying a stone wall, will now and
then stand back and take a look at it as a
human builder would ; and if a stone isn't
exactly plumb, he will take it out and try it
over and over again until it suits him. Sir
Emerson Tennent tells wonderful tales of the
trained elephants in Ceylon. When riding one
A'OA’ A/7').”.S. SAATA2. 25

day in a narrow path through the forest, he met
an elephant with the trunk of a tree upon his
head. His horse was terrified and refused to
pass, although the elephant turned out as far as
the law required. The huge creature seeing into
the situation, stopped, took the log from his
head and laid it carefully down beside the path.
Then, backing his ponderous body far into the
bushes, hid himself from view until the fright-
ened horse passed by. He then, taking up his
burden went on about his own business as if
nothing unusual had happened. That showed
thought, judgment, and the ability to do the
right thing in the emergency. How far is
such intelligence accountable 2 Does the life
endowed with it survive the grave, or does it
end with the dust 2 We know but mighty
little about it. Mr. Whittier in his ‘Questions
of Life' asks :
* Do bird and blossom feel, like me,
Life's many folded mystery, -
The wonder which it is ſo be 2
Or stand I severed and distinct
From Nature's chain of life unlinked P’”
“Better give it up, Mr. Leigh, what's the
use 2" said a moon-faced man who looked as if
he had never lost sleep in trying to solve the
problems of the universe. “You’ll only get

26 A’OA” A/7'Y”.S. SAATA2.
staggered as Mr. Emerson did when he stood
before the Sphinx.”
“How was that 2" Mr. Leigh asked.
“Oh they gazed and gazed at each other for
a long time in silence. Then the Sphinx said —
‘You’re another.’
That settled it. Mr. Emerson turned and
walked away without a word.”
“What was that you read to us one evening,
Miss Kate ’’’ asked Harry. “It began, “Some-
where along the line of intelligence the line of
immortality crosses.’”
“Great Scott Harry,” shouted his chum
jumping up quickly. “Who knows but you
and I are on the wrong side of that line now *
Come on it is long past study hour.” And
away the boys ran down street as if on a wager.
Abdallah, who had been quietly standing at
the post all this time now gave a low whinny.
His master understood, and said in reply,
“Abdallah thinks it is time for me to go home,
and he is right.”
“We are not quite done with you yet ; I see
that you drive without blinders,”
man who evidently wanted to hear more of Mr.
Gates’ horse-talk.
“Yes | horses' eyes were made for seeing. I
know no reason why they should be covered
said a gentle-
AWO/C A/7"Y”.S. S.4 ÅA. 27
any more than our own. Blinders are simply a
relic of a barbarous age and do far more harm
than good. Young horses are easily trained to
drive without them, and they are the more
valuable for it. Great care should be taken,
however, in removing blinders from a horse
that has been accustomed to them. Seeing the
carriage behind him for the first time might
give him such a fright that an accident would
follow. The next time you walk down town
observe every horse you meet. You will be sur-
prised to see how large a proportion of the poor
creatures have their eyes so closely covered,
that the wonder is how they can see at all.
We ought to be ashamed of it every time we
look one of them in the face.”
“I have often heard it said that it is no easy
matter to get horses properly shod " continued
the first speaker.
“Ignorant blacksmiths ruin horses by bad
shoeing the world over" said Mr. Gates ear-
nestly. “True, and pity 'tis, ’tis true.' I
don't think I exaggerate when I say that all the
foot diseases that horses suffer from are caused
by rasping, scraping, paring, scooping, and
otherwise mutilating the hoof. Some scientists
who have made a study of this matter contend
that a horse should never be shod. They say
-


28 A’O/C A/7'): '.S. SAAT/2.
that the Creator knew what he was about when
he made the horse's foot, and man's attempts
to improve on nature have only caused disease
and untold suffering.
A friend of mine lost a fine horse not long
ago. Quantities of nauseous drugs were
poured down the creature's throat for the colic.
Blisters, that only added to his suffering, were
applied for various imaginary ailments. Lock-
jaw set in and he died in terrible agony. A
post-mortem showed that it was all caused by
a long pointed nail in his foot. Oh the horror
Of it !”
“It makes one's blood run cold * continued
Mr. Gates “ to think of the torture that horses
are subjected to, with no malicious intent
whatever. Now there is Old Mr. Pinch. His
horse is a rack of bones for want of proper
food and care. He will leave him standing out
On the north-east corner of the church on Sun-
day, Snow up to his fetlocks,— the wind blow-
ing a gale ; – and if the old man happens to be
a little late, he won't stop to put a blanket on.
I saw the poor beast there one day last winter
in a storm of sleet and rain. It was so cold I
wondered that he didn’t freeze stiff in his
tracks. I led him into a barn near by, covered
him up and left him. I told Mr. Pinch after-

AſOA’ ZX/Z'Y',S SAATA. 29
wards that I did it ; and I thought it the duty
of every man to protect animals from abuse
and neglect whenever it was in his power. I
believe he has been more careful since.
The outrageous abuse of dumb creatures has
its hopeful side ; for the humane societies are
pretty sure to discover and punish startling
offences. The suffering that is caused by
ignorance, thoughtlessness, fashion and folly,
is harder to get at.”
“Look at that horse going past in the road
now !” Mr. Gates exclaimed, “It is most
cruelly harnessed. The man who is driving is
getting up a treatise on Astronomy or some-
thing or other that keeps his head in the
clouds. He doesn't know any more about a
horse than he does about a kangaroo. A bit
is a bit, to him, no matter what it was de-
signed for. Now the bit in that gentle creat-
ure's mouth is a regular jaw-breaker, gotten up
for some strong, unmanageable animal, and it
means torture every minute. Likely enough
he bought the whole harness cheap at an
auction sale, and put it on without altering a
buckle. See how her head is pulled up by that
over-draw check. I tell you ! every bone and
muscle in her neck and back are aching from
the strain of it. All needless unpardonable


3O AWOAZ /2/7'Y',S SAAT/E.
torture. I’ll overhaul that man before to-
morrow night. I believe there is nothing that
frets a horse more than the little wire bit of
the over-draw check; and nothing more purely
needless was ever added to the harness of a
quiet, well-behaved animal.
Many coachmen seem to be proud of their
horses when they toss up their heads, champ
their bits and fling foam from their mouths.
Poor fools – they don't know that the creat-
ures throw their heads up because they are in
agony, and it is the only way they can move
them for a moment's relief. Every owner of a
horse ought to know it, and see to it, that his
horses are comfortably harnessed. Now and
then I see a top-check and a martingale used
together by some ignoramus who happened to
have a martingale on his harness and didn't
know enough to take it off when he added the
Over-draw check. The two combined make a
double contrivance for torture worthy a fiend.
I think it is Howard,' who, in one of his
masterly articles on the abuse of the horse,
asks this question; ‘Did you ever stand out.
side one of the fashionable churches in New
York, or any of our large cities and look at
the elegant equipages waiting for the wor-
shippers ?' I have done so many times and

A'O/C A/7'Y',S SAATA. 3 I
wondered at the hard heart of man. The
horses are made wretched by uncomfortable
trappings. Their heads are kept cramped in
unnatural positions until their misery becomes
unbearable. They grow nervous and restless.
What follows A sharp cut of the whip to
make them stand still. I wonder if a cut from
behind on the driver would have a soothing
effect on /.7/z. The owners are inside the
church, kneeling on their soft cushions, pray-
ing that their sins may be forgiven. Their
prayers will hang between heaven and earth
like Mahomet's coffin, some little time, I'm
thinking, before they reach the ear of the
Creator of the poor beasts they are so cruelly
sinning against.”
“The intelligence developed in animals that
have a fair chance in life is surprising,” con-
tinued Mr. Gates, with a glance at his watch.
“Take, for instance, an ordinary horse that has
never been knocked about in the world, the
property of Tom, Dick and Harry ; one that
has been kindly and sensibly reared by people
who appreciate his rights as well as his worth,
and he is not only a faithful, useful friend, but
a companionable one. Horses that are patiently
taught what is required of them, talked to in a
quiet, kindly tone, learn to understand what is

32 AſOA’ A/Z'Y',S SAATA.
said to them and exhibit many qualities worthy
a human animal.
I do not mean you to infer that I think there
is no evil in horse-nature. I have seen as
vicious brutes among them as ever stood on
four legs ; but as a rule, they are good tempered
and well meaning, and I believe that ninety-
nine one-hundredths of the accidents that hap-
pen with horses are caused by unwise training,
or brutal treatment sometime in their lives.
They are made nervous and irritable by being
roughly handled and uncomfortably harnessed.
The lash is always hanging over them. Even
the voice of the driver or groom often makes
them quiver with fear. When they have been
fretted beyond endurance, who wonders that
they try to kick against the pricks 2"
“The end,” said Mr. Gates as he arose from
his chair, adding as he drove away, “Good-
night, my friends — good-night ! When you
want another lecture on horseology, send for
me. I’ll give you sound doctrine every time.
John Boyle O'Reilly said that man deserves
hell were it only for his treatment of horses,
and I agree with him.”
A vote of thanks was shouted after Mr.
Gates. Miss Kate then proposed that they
should meet at the same place early on the fol-
A'OA” A/Z'Y'S SAATA2. 33
lowing evening, and that all should come pre-
pared to relate something of interest about
animals. She wished it distinctly understood,
however, that anecdotes supported by hear-
say evidence alone, would be ruled out. Only
personal experiences, and stories that the nar-
rator could vouch for as strictly true, would
meet the requirement.
This meeting with hearty approval, the party
soon after broke up and all retired to the
house.
Speak for the Dumb.
Inscribed to The American Humane
Association.
Speak for the dumb, ye that have tongues,
Plead for the wronged, ye that have hearts,
Arrest and overthrow of wrongs
Are holiest of human arts.
The Great All-Father loveth all,
Revealing pity by His deeds,
Providing for both great and small,
Anticipating all their needs.
| How blessed are the merciful
The Great Redeemer’s lips attest,
Declaring that each pitying soul
Is kindred to the spirits blest.
Who soothes a pang, or calms a grief,
Or shields the innocent from wrong,
Shall find in Heaven his sweet relief,
And share with angels in their song.
Providence, R. I. REv. F. DENIson.

34 A'OA’ A/7')/ ?,S SAATA.
II.
“A pleasant New England village, not too far removed
from a large town and the railroad, is the best
dwelling-place in the world.”
The village clock in the distance struck ten.
My little brother and I were now left on the
veranda alone. We were strangers in the place,
having arrived that afternoon. Although weary
from a long and tiresome drive, we had sat
there, willing and interested listeners to the
conversation I have related.
Our home was in the far West. My father,
a New England boy, had been prevented by .
press of business from visiting his own country,
as he loved to call it, for many years. A com-
- bination of favorable circumstances had that . . .
season made it possible. How his dear face
lighted with joy when he told us that he had
made arrangements to devote the whole sum-
mer to a pleasure trip with his family ; that the
time had come to carry into effect a long
cherished plan, – a carriage drive through New
England. This had been a dream of the future
that we had enjoyed in prospect until we had
forgotten to expect its realization. We set -
about making our preparations with light and



FOA' P/7'Y'S SAA E. 35
happy hearts. Our little party consisted of my
father, my mother, a younger brother, and my-
self — a tired-out girl graduate. We went by
rail directly to Boston where we passed three
busy weeks visiting places where the history of
our country was made, – exploring the beauti-
ful suburbs of the city, - sailing down its fine
harbor, − strolling on sandy beaches, – or
climbing the bold rocky cliffs that in this
vicinity give such fascinating variety to old
ocean's bounds. My father then hired a pair of
stout horses, a comfortable roomy carriage and
a driver, for an indefinite time. -
Here began our “Summer in a Phaeton ’’
which in the end realized our expectations, and
went upon record as the ideal summer of our
lives. Free from business cares my father was
young again. The June days were never more
beautiful, and our enthusiasm knew no bounds
as the great panorama of hills, valleys, forests
and streams unrolled before us. We journeyed
leisurely, taking ample time to rest for ourselves
and for our horses until we arrived at the
Crawford House in the heart of New England's
grand and picturesque scenery. IIere our
stay lengthened into weeks. To me, who had
all my life dwelt in a city of the plains, it
was like living in fairy-land. The beauty of
36 A'OA2 A3/7'Y',S SAAT/E.
nature was bewildering ; its charm and variety
inexhaustible ; and we gave ourselves up to
the enjoyment of it with child-like abandon.
From the Glen, the smiles and the frowns
of the monarch of the mountains were equally
fascinating. I had never known before that
a mountain is a creature of so varied moods
and aspects. I never wearied of watching the
fantastic shapes and motions of the clouds
as they wreathed themselves about Mount
Washington's stately head ; of studying the
exquisite dissolving views of light and shadow
that played upon its rugged sides ; or of tracing
the outline of the majestic peak when clearly
defined against a cloudless sky.
From the summit, — who can picture the
glory of the morning among these mountain
billows, as crest after crest is flushed with color
by the rising sun ? Who can describe the
witching weirdness of moonlight above the
clouds; or the awfulness of a storm in the home
of the lightning 2 -
From a sheltered nook near “ The Profile,” I
gazed with tears in my eyes at the “Great
Stone Face.” The grandeur of the Notch, the
wild beauty of the Flume, the charming vistas
in the forest drives and the matchless views of
the long ranges of mountains from Bethlehem,

A'O/C A/7')/?,S SAATA2. 37
Jefferson and more distant villages, all left
precious pictures in memory's gallery in colors
that never grow dim. -
Was it Dr. Holmes who wrote, “He who
would enjoy mountains must have mountains
in his heart 2 " The world has need of men
and women who have mountains in their hearts
akin to these grand peaks, superb in their calm
strength and unconscious greatness.
From the mountains, our return route was
mapped out to the Maine coast; thence back to
Boston along the shore. Our drive homeward
in the early September days was quite as en-
joyable as its beginning in summer, although
marked with less excitement and enthusiasm.
Our road wound through lovely valleys with
sloping-roofed farm-houses here and there in
the shade of grand old oaks and elms; Over
rugged hills on whose tops we rested long to
feast our eyes on the beauty around us ; and
through long stretches of wild woods that had
never known the axe of the destroyer. When
we reached the cities on the sea, frequent ex-
cursions to the shore and to the fair islands on
the coast, added a fresh charm to the days that
were passing too quickly. Our three months
with nature had taught us that there is more
to live for than we had ever before imagined.

38 A'O/ø A/7')",S SAAT/E.
Thus driving on, stopping here and there for
rest and recreation, we arrived at the quaint
old sea-port of New Hampshire, — the River-
mouth of novelist and poet, — the home of the
“Bad Boy,” who was not such a very bad boy
after all. We had intended to remain a few
days to explore this little city, so rich in natural
environment; so famed in poetry and song.
But there, the almost forgotten hum of business
came to us from afar, a telegram calling my
father at once to New York. My mother
hurriedly decided to accompany him, and a
Boston lady whose acquaintance we had made
at the Crawford, gladly joined my brother and
myself for the carriage drive to the “ Hub.”
Donald, our driver, assured my father that he
had driven over the road before ; that he knew
every foot of the way, and a comfortable hotel
where we could pass the following night. In
the evening as we were making arrangements
to proceed on our journey, he came to me and
with an air of conscious importance, suggested
our taking a well-filled lunch basket and urged
us to make ready to start as early as possible.
In the morning we were up betimes and
away. I knew that we were travelling faster that
day than usual but scarcely gave the matter a
thought. Possibly I felt glad to be hurried on,














sº countless multitude about us, *
*C
Claiming sympathy—our humble kin;
Sadly have they learned to fear and doubt us,
Driven from our side by human sin.
Yet, though dumb, their hearts to ours are :
Speaking,
Help and kindness from us ever seeking,
Rindness hard to Win |
Inarticulate voices, groans of anguish,
Patient sighs, 'neath burdens hard to bear;
From lone places where dumb victims languish
Plaintive moans are floating on the air
Soft eyes, seeking ours with wistful pleading;
Can we turn away with hearts unheeding
That unuttered prayer
Innocent of wrong, our own transgressing
Lays on them a heavy load of pain,
Sharing all the misery and oppression -
Man has wrought beneath his iron reign.
Touch all hearts, O Thou Divine Compassion,
Till they burn with generous love and passion
To remove the Stain.
They and we are in our Father’s keeping,
Whose compassion clasps both great and
Smail;
Not one Wrong eludes that Eye unsleeping,
Not one humblest life unseen shall fall.
None can serve Him with a heart unheeding
His dumb creatures’ inarticulate pleading,
For He loveth all. -
Acharacter of a Country.
All history tells us that the character of a
country may be determined by the manner in
which the laws of kindness are enforced, and
that among nations where the pastimes of the
people have been the torture of animals, the
seeds of demoralization and decay were soon
sown. As has been very justly remarked, those
who habituate themselves to the practice of
acts of cruelty in time become so hardened as
to have a disregard of human comfort and even
of human life. -
“He who is not actively kind is cruel.”
(Ruskin).
_- -
Uur Dumb Brothers. .
*
-



inc co
*~~~-
“ Driving up to the ‘Country Inn' where my Sãory
offens, we felt its air of restfulness before we entered.”



AſOA' A'ZZ"Y”.S. SAATA, 4. I
as our pleasure trip was virtually ended.
About mid-day we stopped by the roadside,
climbed over the wall, and in the shade of a
spreading oak refreshed ourselves from the
contents of the lunch basket. Later in the
day, we reined up at a little country tavern
where Donald fed the horses and brought them
back to the door again, just as we were making
ourselves comfortable in easy chairs for an
hour's rest. He seemed so impatient to go on
that we renewed our journey without longer
delay. Thus from early morning until nearly
six o'clock, we sped on, up hill and down,
through clouds of dust that nearly smothered
us. Little remains in my memory of that long
hot day, but discomfort and weariness.
Driving up to the “Country Inn '' where my
story opens we felt its air of restfulness before
we entered. The house was a well preserved
relic of Colonial days;– a house with a history.
I was told that it was built by a hero of the
Revolution, and that this peaceful spot was the
home of his family when our country was
racked with war.
All about were grand old elms that had
been planted by hands long since mouldered to
dust. Within were great wainscoted rooms —
many-paned windows – fascinating alcoves,

42 AſO/C A/7').”,5 SAAT/E.
deep window seats — broad, open fire-places —
tall mantels — rich mirrors, – all suggestive of
the stately hospitality in the life of the olden
time. This mansion, handsome and attractive
in its youth, was notably rich in the added
associations of more than a hundred years.
No less than three Presidents of the United
States had been entertained within its walls.
The great claw-foot chair that General Wash-
ington sat in was preserved as a precious relic.
Tradition pointed to the spot where General
Lafayette stood and shook hands with the
assembled throng. Distinguished people from
many lands had helped to make the mansion
famous ; but its earliest occupants, by their
gracious hospitality and far-reaching generosity
in the cause of education, had conferred upon it
its highest honors.
I was told a pathetic little incident that
occurred on the Sunday morning following the
death and burial of the last member of this
family.
The old family horse listened to the “sound
of the church-going bell,” as he stood sedately
in his stall. What did it mean * Why was he
not groomed, harnessed, and waiting at the
door 2 Minutes passed and no one came. He
could endure it no longer. He loosed his

A'O/C A/7').”.S. SAATA. 43
fastenings, trotted around to the front door,
and for a moment stood at his post. The bell
began to toll. What Late at meeting 2 Never!
Slowly he went on unguided — stopped at
the door of the church as usual,— then went
to his own place in the shed, where he stood in
a most exemplary manner until the benediction
was pronounced. Service over, he joined the
home-going worshippers, no doubt satisfied
that he, at least, had done what he could to
maintain the reputation of his family.
This fine old house with many fair acres of
hill and dale surrounding it, became the inheri-
tance of the school which bears the name of
the public-spirited man who first called it
“home.” In the care of Trustees who zeal-
ously guarded the honor of this treasured heir-
loom, it had for many years been used as a
temporary home for the friends of students,
and a summer resort for city guests.
The register of this Country Inn was rich in
names of men and women whom the world
delights to honor.
In the little churchyard on the grassy knoll
near by, are names famous in history and
literature, that will live long after the stones
upon which they are sculptured shall have
Crumbled away.
44. A'O/C A/Z'Y’.S. SAATA.
I had long known of this historic town by
the fame of its schools. I had met many
young men and young women who had gone
out from these institutions with hearts full of
love and loyalty, not only to their Alma Mater,
but to the very rocks and trees, the hills and
groves that environed it. But the quaint
beauty, the old-time stateliness, the subtle
spirit of the far-away past that pervaded this
quiet spot, had the peculiar charm of the unex-
pected and strangely fascinated me.
I felt that it was good to be there. -
t y
*…
“Nothing without Cruelty” might really be
the device of the medical profession at the
present moment. If a remedy be proposed
founded on a long series of painful experi-
ments on animals, it is received at once With
acclammation as quite sure to save thousands of
lives, even before it has saved a Single one.
If, on the Contrary, it has nothing to do with
**tely of any kind, then, no matter What evi-,
dence is produced of its practical efficacy, or
how distinguished may be the name of its
originator, it falls as dead as a door mail On the
medical ear.—(Edinburg, Scotland, º
º
--- - º º
“Our hands are empty, but our º
full of promises.” (Claude Bernard, Paris)
-- - - -
“On nice moral questions, I do not think
the Working physiologist can be trusted to
decide.” (Dr. Wickam Legg, England)

r wr
-
“ Brutes! The brutes are not ou
Are one devils—are we men? . -
Sweet Saint Francis of Assisi, would that
thou wert back again!
Thou who in thy Catholic wholeness said
‘sister,’ º 45
‘Brother’ to the very flowers, and to the
brutes, -
Whose pains are never less than ours.”
III. -
“I had a dream which was not all a dream.”
ongers
It was a perfect evening. The old world
seemed full of beauty, as I looked out on this
charming landscape flooded with soft moon-
light. The cool west wind blew refreshingly
across green lawns, that with foliage and shrub-
bery kept the dust of the road away from this
ideal spot.
I sat for a short time alone after my brother
retired, the conversation I had listened to, and
the events of the evening being uppermost in
my mind. A small package that I needed had
been left in the carriage. Knowing just where
to find it, I walked out without speaking to any
one, found the door of the carriage-house wide
Open and stepped in unobserved. As I came
opposite a door that opened from one side into
the stable, I heard one of the hostlers say,
“That team that came in just before supper
was awfully used up. Why that fellow got
way off the road and drove round and round
Robin Hood's barn to get here. He covered
more miles than he would if he had gone
straight to Boston over the old turnpike, from
the place where he started this morning. With
º



46 A'O/C A/7').”.S. SAAT/E.
four people — that heavy carriage, and such a
hot, dry day – ’twas outrageous. I wonder one
of them women didn't know better than to let
him do it. Strange how little horse-sense
some women have, anyway. I s'pose they're
born so, and p'raps ain't any more to blame for
it than they would be if they had been born
with one eye. When women know more about
how horses ought to be harnessed and driven,
and their coachmen know they know it, there
won't be so many knocked out horses as there
are now.”
My ears tingled with shame, but I had yet
more to hear and stood as if riveted to the spot.
“Yes,” said another, “and did you see how
their heads were checked up 2 That might do
for an hour or so, but for all day, 'twas infernal.
That driver ought to be made to work with his
head screwed back just so from mornin' till
night, and be horse-whipped into the bargain.
I’d like to be the one to put him through it.”
“I unhitched 'em,” said the first speaker,
“ and I didn’t know what to do first to the poor
beasts. After dryin' 'em off a bit, I turned 'em
right out behind the barn and left 'em to shift
for themselves. I reckon I couldn’t ha' done
better, for they had chirked up consider’ble
when I took 'em in.”

APOA’ ZX/Z"Y”.S. SAAT/E. 47
The voices ceased, but I could hear the men
moving chairs to the front of the stable where
they seated themselves at the open door to
enjoy the cool of the evening.
I got into the carriage — found the package I
came for ; – then leaning back on the comfort-
able cushions, waited a chance to slip out and
back to the house unnoticed, as I had come in.
Who can explain to me what followed 2
Did I sleep
Did I dream 2
Was I endowed with a sixth sense that put
me in such close sympathy with my animal
neighbors that I could understand their lan-
guage 2 Whatever it was, the occurrences of
that night are a mystery to me still.
At first I heard low unintelligible sounds.
As I listened, they seemed to grow louder and
I could now and then distinguish a word.
Where I was, or where the sounds came from, I
did not know. Soon, by a strange sort of in-
tuition, I became aware that I was alone in the
stable, – that the men had gone — the doors
were locked, and the horses were conversing in
a language that I understood perfectly. I felt
like an eaves-dropper, although I sat bolt up-
right in the carriage that I might not lose a
word.

48 A'O/C A/7')".S. SAATA.
“What are you groaning for Ned 2 °
“Groaning ! Who has a better right 2" an-
swered Ned. “I’ve had flies and mosquitoes all
Over me to-day thicker than the measles, and
no tail to switch them off with. Just had to
give up to 'em and let 'em have their own way.
I had a tail of my own, that with a good vigor-
ous switch would hit a fly on the end of my
nose, and here I am, with this ridiculous stump
sticking up like a sore thumb, -— of no earthly
use to me, and it mortifies me so I can hardly
look my best friend in the face. Good Heavens !
I'd go hungry and thirsty all my days and not
complain, if I could have my tail back again.”
“Hasn't your tail stump stopped aching yet,
Ned 2 ”
“Stopped aching 2 No l’’ said Ned. “I tell
you it aches clean down to the tip end of the
bone that's gone. I don't know how to account
for it. I know quick enough that I've no tail
when I want to switch it, but I could swear it
was a yard long by the ache of it.”
“It’s a hard case Ned but then, you are
right in the fashion; it's English you know, and
awfully swell.”
“Talk about fashion,” snarled Ned, “Suppose
it was the fashion not to have hands. My mis-
tress would have hers cut off, would she

AOA' PZZ'Y'S S.A.A.A. 49
There would be about as much sense in it, as
in cutting off my tail. Flies bother me as
much as they do her. She leaves no stone un-
turned to rid herself of the pests ; then cuts off
my tail and puts me in a stable black with
them. Robbed of my only weapon of defense,
all I can do is to stamp, twitch, rub, roll if I
have room, and just tire myself to death fight-
ing them. Mercy knows its bad enough to be
tormented by flies, even if you have a tail. By
Jove hanging is too good for anybody who
would treat a horse so.”
“Whoa, Ned you're running away with
yourself,” said another voice. “I advise you
to get along with your trouble as quietly as
you can. You may be sold at auction some
day ; or sent down South where you'd have
flies the year round instead of only six months,
if you get too fractious. Didn't I see your
mistress out here to-day patting you on the
neck, and feeding you with sugar ’’’
“Supposing you did,” said Ned, “My tail is
gone all the same. Oh it breaks my heart to
think of it.” -
“Poor fellow, you are worse off than I am.
I pity you,” said another, with a voice full of
sympathy. “I ought not to complain if I am
so tired I can scarcely speak. We have had




50 AſOA” A/7').7°.S. SAAT/2.
an awfully tough jaunt to-day. Our load was
heavy, and our driver hasn't the sense of a hen.
I thought we should drop before we got here,
but he whipped us up hill and down, as if he
thought we had no feelings. It wouldn't have
been so hard on us if we could have moved
our heads I heard Donald say when he
harnessed us in the morning, that he wasn't
going to have his horses look as if they were
half asleep ; so he shortened our checks and
didn’t let them down till we had our feed at
noon. We passed watering-troughs by the
road side. Oh how we longed for a drink.
We pulled towards them as hard as we dared,
but he only yanked us away and drove on the
faster. I suppose it was too much trouble for
him to get off and let down our heads. There
were apples, too, lying on the ground under
the trees, beautiful red and white ones.
Who ever thinks how hard it is for us to see
apples everywhere, and never have a chance to
get a bite When the family stopped by the
way and had a jolly time over their luncheon;
there we stood, - our eyes staring up to the
sun, our mouths stretched almost to our ears,
— Our necks aching murderously,– but no
one thought of giving zis a rest.
It comes harder on us to be treated so be-
A’O/C A/7'Y',S SAA. AE. 5.I
cause we have known better days. We
belonged to a good woman once, who had
plenty of money, a great kind heart ; and our
home was one to be proud of. Many a time
have we taken her to Newport and Lenox.
We enjoyed the trip as much as she did, and
always came in on the last mile almost as fresh
as when we started. All because she knew a
thing or two ; and old Patrick who took care of
us had lived with her so long that he was no
fool, himself. When she stopped in the shade
for a lunch by the way, she never forgot a bite
of grass and a drink of water for us. We had
the best of care, were harnessed comfortably
and driven sensibly. In those days, life was
worth living. She died.— Things are different
now.”
I knew that the last speaker was our own
‘Brownie,’ and I knew that I should “ be
ashamed to look him in the face ’’ in the morn-
ing.
Was he aware that I had listened to his piti-
ful story There was no time to indulge in
thought or conjecture. I had still more to hear.
The next speaker was Bay,’— Brownie's mate.
“I was tied up so short last night that I
couldn't lie down, and should have been to-
night if a man who walked through the stable


52 AſO/C A/7"Y’.S. SAAT/2.
just before it was closed hadn't spied me. I
heard him say – ‘Idiot'— when he length-
ened out my halter. This morning when
Donald led me out, he said “I wonder why Bay
didn't lie down.' I pulled at the halter and
tried to show him why, but he only gave me a
slap and told me to keep still. He has had
things his own way for a few days past. I wish
we could stay here a week and get rested.
That roll I had on the grass back of the stable
did me more good than a night's sleep. Didn't
we get a good bite of that grass, too ! Why
we were out there more than an hour. It
made me think of old times – before Our
family was broken up and we were sold. You
seem to fare pretty well here.”
“Well you might go farther and fare
worse,” answered another. “We don't go in
for much style, but we are pretty comfortable.
Plenty to eat and to drink, - not very often
Over-driven, and best of all, a chance now and
then to run out in the field. It does a fellow a
world of good to roll and stretch when he is
tired.”
“That's so,” said another fiercely, “I know
more of the want of it than I do of the good of
it. Haven't had a roll for two years.”
“Where are you from,” asked one.
APO/C A/7'Y'S SAA E. 53
|
“Oh I’m from a city stable where they have
to economise in room. No one ever thinks
we need to lie down and stretch out our whole
length once in a while. It is only how to get
the greatest number of us into the smallest
space ; so we have to double ourselves up like
jack-knives in our stalls, and get on as well as
we can. It's mighty hard lines though. Our
stable is as tight as a box. There isn't even a
knot-hole to let in fresh air when the door is
shut. The ceiling is low to give more room
for hay overhead. When sixty of us are shut
in there at night, — I don't know what keeps
us alive. I tell you, we have to fight for
breath till we are all tired out. Whew doesn’t
the air smell good when that door is opened in
the morning 2"
“Didn't that little cur come with you — the
One that's kept up such a whimpering for the
last two hours ?” Some one asked.
“Yes! that's our dog,” was the reply, “What's
the matter with you Tobey " -
“Matter enough,” whined Tobey, “Tim tied
me up here when we drove in at noon. He
gave me some dinner, but not a drop to drink.
There was about a spoonful o' water in that
old rusty pan, but I licked it dry in no time,
and here I am choking to death. Oh dear ! I


54 AOA' P/7"Y'S S.A.A.A.
wish they wouldn't forget the water. They
don't forget to feed me once a day, - that's
it's bad for a dog's health
to eat too often. I'd risk it twice a day if I
had the chance. I think it's bad enough to go
to bed hungry, and I know it's mighty bad for
my health to be tied up here all this time with
no water. Wouldn't I like to run down to
that well behind the stable and just soak my
throat 2 Wouldn’t it be fun to have a neck as
the fashion now,
long as a giraffe's and feel the water running
down the whole length Oh dear ! I suppose I
shall have to stand it until somebody happens
to think of me. ” -
“You poor little chap. They are too mean
to neglect you so. I believe I should go mad
if I were in your place. I never knew what it
meant to be forgotten, in my life.”
“No | I'll bet you never did, Frazzle,” cried
Ned. “Mighty little you know about trouble,
anyway. There are no briers in your hay. Your
stall is large enough to drive in a four in hand
team and turn round. You have all the fresh
grass you can eat. There is an apple or a
lump of sugar in everybody's pocket for yozº.
You can carry your head as you like, and your
tail touches the ground. But I'm glad you've
got a soft snap, Frazzle. You're a good fellow


AO/C A/7').”.S. SAATA2. 55
if you are not handsome, and you can go, some.”
“That's so,” said another. “One day last
winter when you were trotting on the river, I
heard a man say, ‘Great Scott that fellow has
got sixteen legs. Is he a centipede 2' There
was a great crowd looking on. I tell you it
was fun for us when you sailed in so far ahead.
Yes, we're all proud of you, and glad that
you're a lucky one. It makes us think a better
time is coming, when we see a horse treated
like a Christian. You're fortunate, Frazzle, to
be owned by a woman.”
“Talk about being owned by a woman,”
piped up Ned. “Don’t I belong to a woman 2
Didn't she send me up to Canada to have my
tail cut off — afraid of getting into trouble if
she had it done here 2 Bah Fortunate to
be owned by a woman.' I'd like to strangle a
few of 'em. There are some people in this
world that ought to be turned into horses.
If I had the handling of them, wouldn't I give
'em fits You bet they'd know some things
they don't know now, before I got done with
'em.”
“Oh bosh, Ned You can talk savage
enough, but we all know you're as tender-
hearted as a chicken. If you had the reins in
your hands, you'd just treat everybody as you'd


56 A'OA2 A3/7')^*,S SAATA.
like to be treated yourself. You would heap
coals of fire on their heads.”
“Heap coals of fire on their heads,” growled
Ned, “If I could catch the man that cut off
my tail, I'd burn him at the stake. But where
is ‘Madame'? Is she napping 2 We haven't
heard a word from her to-night ; and Dick, what
have you been up to to-day "
“Oh I had some rare good fun this morn-
ing out in the yard,” said Dick, laughing.
“You ought to have been there. They are try-
ing to make a saddle horse of me and I'm not
going to stand it. Any man with half an eye
in his head ought to see that I'm not built for a
saddle horse. I had tossed off three or four
boys who ventured to get on my back, -
did it easy you know, didn't want to hurt the
little fellows, only to let 'em know that they
couldn't ride.
A nice little scheme was hatched up this
morning, but I happened to hear all about it.
The Irishman that lives over in the alley was
here. There's more or less swagger about him
you know. He wasn't afraid to ride any horse
they could scare up. When he lived in the old
country they used to send for him from miles
away to break in colts that nobody could
manage. The Worst of them had to give in to




AſO/C A/7'Y'S SAATA. 57
him every time. There was a lot more of that
kind of talk. It all ended just as I expected. I
was led out saddled and bridled and I felt gay.
He jumped into the saddle as if he thought he
was going to boss the job, but it didn't take
him long to find out he was mistaken. I
danced along a few steps just to make him feel
good. He sung out ‘Be jabbers he's a fine
baste to the saddle, look a’ that now.’
He had hardly got the words out of his
mouth when he found himself sprawling full
length on the grass. I got the laugh on him,
fine. He had good pluck, though. He got up,
pulled off his boots, threw his coat and hat
Over the fence and jumped on again. I gave
him a second dose like the first, and then stood
over him waiting to see if he wanted to try it
again. He had got enough of it, so they led
me back into the stable. I didn’t know what
would be done to me, but it was all so funny,
they doubled themselves up laughing till I
thought they'd never stop. I came out ahead
that time.”
“I’m glad if somebody's had some fun to-
day. There's little enough of it for most of us,
any time,” said a voice I had not heard before.
“I’ve been at work in the field, plowing and
harrowing from morning till night. There hasn't
58 A'OA2 A3/7'Y',S SAATA2.
been much fun in that, I can tell you. Noth
ing makes a fellow so thirsty as working in the
field on a hot day — be he man or beast. The
men went every half hour to their jugs behind
the tree and came back Smacking their lips.
Why couldn't they see that we needed a drop
to wet our parched throats as much as they
did Water costs nothing. Men are so
stupid I have no patience with them. One
wonders if they ever think. We had to plod
on from morning till noon without a drop, our
mouths and throats as dry as shavings. When
we did get a chance at water we wanted to
drink enough to drown ourselves on the spot.
I could have drunk the well dry this noon.
Strange that we can't be allowed to have a
drink of water when we want it.”
“No more strange than a good many other
things in this world,” cried Ned. “I’ve had
about enough of it. Can't somebody give us a
cheery word 2 The Colonel hasn't opened his
head to-night. Is he dead ’’
“Next to it,” the voice of the cart-horse re-
replied. “He’s sound asleep, — been snoring
for an hour. He's been out making calls this
afternoon. He's tired. Golly! Didn't the
Colonel fall on his feet when he got into the
family he belongs to now * Good old soul.

AſO/C A/7').”.S. SAATA2. 59
He deserves his luck. He's in clover too for
life, for he'll be taken good care of as long as
he has a leg to stand on.”
“Well, what has become of Beauty "
“Beauty's asleep too. He never has had
trouble enough to keep him awake an hour
since he was born.”
“Come Madame ' Smooth us out a bit be-
fore we go to sleep, can't you ? I need the
best you can do for me,” said Ned with a long-
drawn sigh.
For a moment all was still, then a pitying
voice in low and gentle tones began,
“My poor children, - I am wide awake. I
have heard every word. It brings up before
me the whole of my long, checkered life. I
wish I could comfort you ; but I have learned
the bitter truth – that we are helpless. Men
can do with us what they will. If they treat
us kindly, we may thank our lucky stars and
make the most of it. If they beat and bang
us, we must bear it as best we can. Many of
us know what it is to be well treated ; but in the
long run we get far more kicks than kindness.
I have seen in my day many a horse that had
more brains than the stupid lout who drove
him ; – many a one that was less a beast, than
the sot that held the lash over his back.


6o APO/C A/7'Y'S SAA E.
Men spoil our tempers, – hinder our useful-
ness, and shorten our lives, by maltreating us as
they do. One makes us wretched by loading
us with elegant useless trappings, – fastening
our heads up so we can only stare into the
heavens while our feet go stumbling over the
earth. Another makes life miserable by burden-
ing us with mis-fitting saddles and rough dirty
collars, that gall our backs and necks, till we
are covered with smarting sores.
One claps a stiff, gilded cover Over our eyes
So we can scarcely see at all. Another puts on
our heads old broken down blinders, that in-
flame and ruin our eyes by flapping against
them at every step we take.
They put cruel bits into our mouths, - then
yank them when they want us to stop, — and
yank them again when they want us to go.
If we are leg weary from long travel, they
whip us because we don't go fast enough.
If we are tired and restless from long
waiting, they whip us because we don't stand
still. -
If we see or hear something that terrifies us
and need a quieting word, down comes the
sharp lash to frighten us all the more.
If we step on a rolling stone and fall to the
ground, they add to our hurt by thrashing us.



A'O/C A/7').”.S. SAATA. 6I
If we can't pull our load up a steep hill, they
beat us. -
When we are trying our best to back our
load into a narrow alley, they swear at us and
beat us again.
They let small boys with no sense or judg-
ment, rattle us round over the stony roads till
there is no strength or courage left in us.
They expect us to trot up hill and down for
hours without a breathing spell.
They drive us half a day over the dusty
roads without giving us a drop of water, when
our throats are parched with thirst.
They founder us by over-driving, over-heat-
ing, and neglect ; – then murder us with
blisters.
They make us foot-sore by cutting away
Our frogs and pinching our heels ; — then put
on more blisters to make a bad matter worse.
If we sprain our ankles, they tie us up so
short we can get no rest ; –then blister us
again. Why don't they know that hot water
bandages would do us more good, and not hurt
half so much
When our teeth ache and are so sore we
can't eat, they crowd pills down our throats
to give us better appetites.
When we are not in good condition, and
62 AOA” A/7').”.S. SAAT/E.
our gums are swollen, they say our “lampers'
are down, and sear the tender flesh with a
terrible red hot iron. Oh it makes me
quiver to think of it now. How would they
like to be treated so brutally
They feed us with musty hay mixed with
weeds, briers and chaff, when the world is
full of the sweet fresh grass that we love so
well.
They give us the same kind of grain from
one year's end to another, never thinking that
variety in food is as good for us as it is for
them.
They stifle us by shutting us up in air-tight
boxes.
They put us in dark stalls where we can
neither see nor speak to one of our kind.
They give us our death, in the drafts of an
old ram-shackle barn with gaping doors and
broken windows.
They strap on our blankets for the night,
pulling them so tight with a jerk that it makes
us groan. Then we eat Our Suppers and lie
down to rest Are we comfortable Only one
who has tried it, knows how that tight strap
hurts ; – and only one who has tried it, knows
what it means to have his skin scratched off
with a curry-comb sharper than a saw.

AO/C A/7').”.S. SAATA. 63
Sometimes we have a thick soft bed to lie
on. Sometimes a thin sprinkling of saw-dust
is thought to be all we need.
There is no limit to the abuse we suffer from
111a1).
He leaves us tied out in the summer heat
'till we stagger with sun-stroke.
He shears off our warm coat in winter and
we must shiver in our nakedness.
He stabs our sides with cruel spurs when a
word is all we need to call out the best there is
in us.
He carelessly takes the skin off our tongues
with frosty bits in cold weather.
He over-works and under-feeds us. He
mutilates and disfigures our bodies most shame-
fully. -
Man forgets that we are made of flesh and
blood, - muscle and nerve ; – that we have
lungs, brains, and hearts, with needs similar to
his own. -
He ought to know that we can feel and
suffer, both in body and mind, - and that kind
words make better servants of us than curses.
When at last, the horse is worn out before
his time by this hard life – when he has
earned a few months’ rest and a decent
burial; – what next 2 Then comes the hardest



64 A'OA’ A/Z'Y',S SAAT/E.
cut of all. He is sold for a trifle to be hacked
about, dragging loads of old junk, rags, or gar-
bage; until, only a pitiful rack of bones, he is
driven to the slaughter house or the soap
factory.
Does man Azzozy that a bullet through the
brain of a horse will end the life that is in him 2
Does he Åſgozy that dumb creatures in this
world will not yet be able to speak and accuse
those who have abused them The mystery
of our life is as great to him as is that of his
OWI).
Man knows that it is his duty here to care
for the helpless, God pity him when he is
called to give an account of his stewardship.
I have drawn a doleful picture, and it is all
true. But it is not the whole truth. If there
were not a brighter side we might well lie
down in despair. Human nature is not all in-
human. Everywhere there are noble men and
women who are fighting our battles, and work-
ing to right our wrongs. They find it up hill
work; but they are made of good stuff : they
have the courage that will conquer in the end.
The good time is coming when the abuse of
our race will be the exception and not the rule.
Think of that, Ned until you go to sleep
and dream that we are all together in a great
A'OAC A/Z'Y’.S. SAAT/E. 65
green pasture: That a sparkling brook runs
through it which is never dry : That great cool,
spreading shade trees are scattered all about ;
That there is no iron in our mouths or on our
feet : That you have your beautiful tail again,
and that we are all comfortable, happy and
free.”
• There was dead silence for a minute after
Madame ceased speaking. Then the stir and
rustle along the line of stalls told me that the
horses were making ready to rest for the re-
maining hours of the night. Tobey's moans
had ceased, so I knew that the poor little fellow
had forgotten his misery in blessed sleep.
I have tried to give this conversation in the
exact words of the animals, which seemed to be
indellibly impressed upon my memory. I
learned much more, incidentally; receiving im-
pressions in a manner that I cannot explain.
Madame was many years older than her
companions, and was evidently beloved by them
all. She had known hard knocks in her life,
but now her days were passing in quiet com-
fort, and she felt secure in her trust that the
good friends who cared for her, would never
suffer her to be left to the mercy of the cold
world again. Her sympathies were so keen
that she made the sorrows of those about her,
º

66 AſO/C A/Z'Y',S SAAT/E.
her own. They poured their grievances into
her ear, and consulted her as the oracle of the
stable. I felt the deference shown her in the ,
impressive silence while she was speaking ; and
in the few murmured words that followed, as
they were settling for the night.
I had scarcely thought of myself, - until
now, I realized that I was a prisoner; – that
I must stay where I was until doors were un-
locked in the morning. I had no fear, although
I was often timid in a less startling situation.
My sense of companionship was so strong, that
had I analyzed my feelings, I should doubtless
have discovered that I regarded my fellow-
prisoners as my protectors. Had I called out
in fright, I am sure I should have been sur-
prised if none of those great four-footed
creatures (tied fast in their stalls) had rushed
to my assistance.
I had listened with intense eagerness to all
that occurred, forgetting my own weariness in
the excitement of my strange position and
stranger experience. The inevitable reaction
followed ; and I joined the sleepers, to dream
of green pastures, running brooks, and pranc-
ing steeds at liberty, with no man to molest or
make them afraid.



A - .
º
º
AN ANIMALS FRIEND.
A T R U E story.
*ścity, and every morning went to the main railway
station about daylight to catch a ride on a switch en-
gine. T often noticed a poor, forlorn man who wan-
dered between the long rows of passenger coaches gath-
ering up the remnants of lunches thrown out of the cars
by the porters and sweepers. These empty trains had
arrived during the night and early morning, and gave
quite a harvest of paper bags and cheap baskets contain-
ing food. The man was a poor, harmless looking chap, evi-
dently a tramp, and the stuff that he picked up he trans-
ferred to an old hand-satchel of large size. He waited until
the last of the night trains arrived so as to further increase
his lunch stock. No one but I seemed to notice the man,
and he spoke to no one. He was but a poor, worn wreck
to look at, delicate in health and shabby in attire.
One morning I saw my tramp of the railway station
examining some crates of live poultry that had just been
unloaded from express vans. The tramp seemed to study
over the condition of the fowls. I was not in a hurry,
so, lighting a cigar, I stopped and watched him. He was
feeding the fowls from the contents of his well-filled
satebel, and was entirely absorbed in this, seeming to be
particular that the weaker ones got their share of the
$º years ago I lived in a large Western American,
food, and he often moistened pieces of bread from a bottle
of water that he also had, seemingly for that purpose.
At last I crossed the street and said to him that I thought
he was doing a good action; he smiled in a sad way, and
said that some of the poor things often came hundreds
of miles without food, and arrived in nearly a starving
condition. -
/~0 <




-
y
~
> º …” º
I offered him a cigar, which he declined, saying that
he had never used tobacco in any form. A package of
ripe fruit that I had he accepted gratefully. I then asked
him about himself, and he told me his story.
He had once been prosperous, but he had been be-
trayed by a false wife and a false friend. Illness and
poverty followed, and at last his troubles so affected his
mind that he became unable to hold a lucrative position
anywhere. Sometimes he got a light job and earned a
trifle. The night engineer of a flour mill had been very
kind to him; allowed him to sleep at the mill, and had
given him some wearing apparel.
He said, in conclusion, that he had had from child-
hood a warm affection and sympathy for all dumb
creatures; he believed that he understood them; he
recognized in them many noble traits—love and sym-
pathy, gratitude and humility. He regularly fed the
poultry and stray dogs; in cold weather he replaced the
coverings of horses, adjusted their feeds bags when
necessary; and in hot weather it was a pleasure to him
to get water for the horses that were thirsty. He said
that the look from their beautiful eyes was thanks
enough for him. “It is but little that I can do,” he said;
“but so much I do, wishing, though, that I could do more,
and I often think how much kindness and mercy might
be shown for the dumb creatures if all would try and do
a little, and how much it would ennoble human nature
to do so.”
The homely moralizing of the poor man touched my
heart. I felt a veneration for him; and a feeling of
shame came over me, that I, also a lover of animals, and
a sympathiser with them—I who was prosperous, had
done so little for them in any way. -
I felt attracted to the man, and was loath to leave
him. I asked him if he would have some breakfast; he
replied that he had already eaten sufficiently. I asked
him to come and pledge me to better luck and good times
coming. “No” he said, “I am not accustomed to drink.”
I then offered him some money, which he was inclined at
first to refuse, but he took it when I earnestly told him
that if he did not I would throw it into the middle of the
street. I shook hands with him and thanked him, saying
that I wished I could do him as much good as he had
done me. When I walked away I instinctively felt that
I had met a far better man than myself. M. C. J.
j
TDrºit, a 25 tº inor, i ()() noct-naiſi. Anti-vivicar-finn Print A in prima Tll
- Freeman, the noted English historian
and noble humanitarian, justly declared,
“that the awful wrongs and sufferings
forced upon the innocent, helpless, faithful
animal race forms the blackest chapter in
the whole world’s history.”
“Open thy mouth for the dumb.” -
(Zºrozierżs 37-8.) .
- - -- .
IV.
“We think our civilization is near its meridian, but
we are yet only at the cock-crowing and the
morning star.”
I waked at early dawn. On opening my
eyes I at first looked about in a sort of stupe-
! fied wonder. For a time my sensations were
confused and uncertain. Then, as if a flash-
light had been thrown upon my consciousness,
the whole picture stood out distinctly before
me. I looked upon it as a reality and in no
sense the freak of a dreamer's fancy.
I stepped lightly through the great open
door and glanced at the long row of horses in
the stalls. Most of them were still asleep ;
although a few turned their heads at the sound
of an unwonted foot-step, and looked as if sur-
prised at the intrusion. I hurriedly caught up
an old battered tin that was lying upon the
floor, filled it with water from a pump in the
stable, and placed it by the side of a little dog
that was tied in one of the stalls. I then ran
to an open window, which I found to my de-
light was so low that I could easily slip out and
drop to the ground. This accomplished, I
walked slowly towards the house looking about



68 A'OA’ A/Z'Y',S ,SAA E.
me as if thinking only of the glory of the
morning, as the rising sun flecked the land-
scape with golden light.
The side door of the house was open, –
servants were stirring in the kitchen. A
colored man who was polishing boots at a
quaint old table in the hall, eyed me curiously
as he politely bade me good morning. I
stopped a moment to examine the odd, antique
table, which was worthy a better fate, then
passed on up to my room, - put out the light
which was still burning, disarranged the bed,
and when the gong sounded for breakfast, I
was ready with the earliest. I must have
looked painfully conscious when I asked the
clerk if our horses were in good condition to
go on. He said that they had evidently been
driven harder than we ladies realized, but the
distance to Boston wasn't great, and they would
go through all right if we took time enough.
He also told me that they would travel much
more easily if their heads were dropped to a
comfortable position ; that there was no neces-
sity of worrying such a quiet, well-intentioned
pair by checking them so high. I knew I
blushed crimson. Did he think I was a merci-
less wretch 2 Or, like hosts of others, crim-
inally ignorant and thoughtless 2 I swore in

FOA' P/7'Y'S SAKE. 69
my heart, then and there, that never again
should dumb creature have occasion to accuse
me of causing it needless suffering.
After a little thought I decided to stay over
another day. I wished to return the horses to
the owner in as good condition as possible, and
I confess that my desire to hear the “Tales of
a Wayside Inn" had some weight in my
decision. This matter settled, I joined a party
of ladies who were busy with fancy work on
the veranda. Others were there making ready
for a morning drive, and among the teams that
came to the door, a handsome snow-white horse
and low, light phaeton attracted my attention.
I made some remark about the striking white-
ness of the horse to a lady who sat near me.
“Oh ” said the little woman as she looked
up from her embroidery, “That old white
beauty is quite a character here. She has a
history. You've been to Salem, haven't you ?”
And without giving me a chance to tell her
whether I had or not, she ran on : “Salem is
the nicest, quaintest place, — it has lots of old
Colonial mansions filled with the most beautiful
antique furniture and the loveliest old china
you ever saw ; and the aristocratic families
there can trace their ancestry back to Adam.
People show you the houses where the witches

7o A’OA’ A/7"Y”.S. SAATA2.
lived, - the place where they were hung, —
and the very pins they stuck into their victims
when they bewitched them. I got the sweetest
witch souvenir spoon when I was there. I saw
the house where Hawthorne was born, - the
House of Seven Gables, – the first church ever
built in this country, - and Oh! I can never
tell all the interesting places and things.
I began to tell you about the white horse,
didn't I? Well she belonged to one of those
old Salem families, – lived in luxury, - and
never did any harder work than just taking the
old gentleman and his wife out for an airing on
fine days. They made a perfect pet of her.
She used to put her head into the dining-room.
window and eat sweetmeats out of the old lady's
hand. Those good people died within a few
days of each other, and their fine estate went
to distant heirs who didn't care a pin for any-
thing except the money it would bring. This
dear pet of the family was left standing in her
stall. I think people who keep pets ought to
make provision for them in their wills Don't
you ? She was nothing to the heirs but an old
white horse, so she was sold with other goods.
and chattels at auction. Wasn't it pitiful?
While the sale was going on a tin peddler
drove up and – would you believe it he bid
º If I but stop one tear, or heal a wrong, Draw near'them, then, in being merciful.
- - - - - --- >>
Or lift a fainting robin into his nest again, Sweet mercy is nobility’s true badge.
I have not lived in vain.” . . - Titus Andronicus.
Kind hearts are more than coronets.
“The great duty of life is not to give
“I have not lived in vain– -- | “Wouldst thou draw near the nature of the gods? -
*
“I shall not pass this way but once, so let me do all the
good I can, to man and beast.”
“O, the good that we may do, as the days are going by 1"
–








-
* - --
Vivisection Useless to Tlankind
Vivisection is essentially and unavoidably
cruel in itself. In order to obtain accurate re-
sults the animals must be healthy, strong, and
in full possession of their senses and intelligence.
The administratism of anaesthetics of any nature
vitiates the outcome of the experiment in any
instance and destroys its utility in the majority
of cases. To stupify an animal partially, to
wait until that effect has passed off, and then to -
mutilate it, enables the operator to say that an-
asthesia was employed and this course is pur- |
sued largely for the sake of effect, for medical
literature falls frequently into the hands of the
laity either in the shape of original reports or
extracts culled from them and republished in
magazines or newspapers. Indeed, vivisectors ſ
themselves abet the distribution of such reading
matter in order to advertise their profound
wisdom as investigators, and to impress the
public with the idea of their importance as
teachers, and therefore as being in consequence
more skilful than the ordinary physicians, of
whom the public know nothing through this -
method of advertising. * * * * *
Vivisection is useless to mankind. No
animal parellels man in anatomical structure, -
in physiological action, nor in mode or object
of life. The most rabid experimentalist will
not admit that he has the brain of an ape in his
cranial cavity, the lungs of a dog in his thorax,
or the skin of an ass beneath his clothing,
although he might as well possess them after
he becomes wedded to his work, for all the
worth he has as a practical physician to the sick
and suffering. He argues from false premises,
his deductions are Wrong, their application to
the treatment of disease is illogical in conse-
quence. Man is neither a brute or an evolution-
from one, although he sometimes degrades
himself below the level of the brute by his
disregard of the written and unwritten laws of
God and man. -
(William R. D. Blackwood, M. D.)
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.
/ TSC –––. = - Lº


AſOA’ AZZ"Y”.S. SAA. A. 73
º
º
º
º
º
her off for half what she was worth, then sold
his own poor, lame, half-blind horse to some one
in the crowd for fifteen dollars, – took the high-
bred creature right out of her gilt-edged stall,—
hitched her to the heavy old tin-cart and drove
away. For months she had to drag the heavy
load around the country until she was more
dead than alive, when the man who owns her
now, bought her out of sheer pity. He says he
knew she was a born lady the first time he saw
her. He turned her out to pasture, nursed her
up, and now old as she is, she is a prize.
Her owner's daughter, you see, is an invalid,
although she is better this summer than she
has been for years. The father says that
‘Madame' has done her more good than doc-
tors and nurses. The old creature is so gentle
that a baby could drive her; and this sick girl
goes off alone with her into the piney woods,
and up on the hill-tops for views, - Oh you
ought to stay here a month and take all the
lovely drives, and see the grand views about
here.” I was quite willing that the voluble
little woman should stop here for breath ;
although glad to know this bit of the history of
a creature that had interested me so deeply.
While she was talking, a lady who had been
to the station to take a friend to an early train,







74. AO/C A/7')",S SAATA2.
drove up to the door. Her horse was as strik-
ingly black as the other one was white. I
looked on in surprise as she sprang lightly out
of the buggy, threw the reins over the dasher,
said, “Go on, Beauty,” and walked quickly into
the house, leaving the horse to go to the stable
alone. The yard was full of carriages which
had been run out to be brushed and dusted
outside. The horse, carefully threading his
way among them reached the stable door with-
out touching even the tips of the shafts that
pointed in every direction. It was done with a
skill that a good driver might have been proud
of. ... "
Another horse was then brought to the door
and left standing at a post. Little as I knew
about such things I could not fail to notice that
this was a peculiar turnout. The open buggy
was as light as a cockle-shell. The little horse,
every inch alive, looked as if spurning the
earth he might almost go flying through the
air. I said to a lady near me,
“Somebody must have forgotten to put that
horse's harness on.”
She answered laughing, “Oh he never wears
more than half the usual trappings. The man
who drives him doesn’t believe in burdening a
horse with what is useless. You see he has no
APOAC A/Z'Y’.S. SAATZ. 75
blinders, no martingale, no check-rein, no hold-
backs ; still he has all that is required for the
work that he has to do. Of course, if he had a
heavy load to hold going down hill, he wouldn't
be harnessed in that style. He is fixed now
for a spin on the road and has nothing on to
hamper him. That little fellow has held the
road ' here as the horse men say, for ten years;
and he enjoys a trot just as much as the man
does that drives him.”
Strange, how all things were conspiring to
teach me a lesson that I needed. It had
dawned upon my mind that dumb animals have
a human side. -
Letter from Mr. Downes to
Miss Francis Power Cobbe
-
Deputy Inspector-General of Hospitals, H. P:
-
####### 3
; : * g : -
% # º º # “PEAR MADAM—I have much pleasure in
# 33 *: #3 assenting to your proposal to add my name to
## sº. 3 # the free list of Honorary Members of the Society
: º #: º the Protection of Animals from Vivisection.
3. ; : : *:::: -I had no hesitation in signing the petition against
g º # #g: #. vivisection at Taunton, because I consider that
3.33. #3; § in the dark ages of ignorance and superstition
º : 5. #3 * the practice may possibly have been excusable,
; : ºº º but that with the increased knowledge of the
3 : # g5#. causes of disease which we now possess, it is
§ : s #### | not only cruel, but totally unnecessary. -
* # # :# #: I remain, dear Madam, yours very truly,
§ ######| | - Henry Downes, M. D.,
-
-
-
-




76 A'OA” A/Z'Y’.S S.A.A.A.
V.
“Yes, well your story pleads the cause
Of those dumb mouths that have no speech,
Only a cry from each to each
In its own kind, with its own laws;
Something that is beyond the reach
Of human power to learn or teach, –
An inarticulate moan of pain,
Like the immeasurable main
Breaking upon an unknown beach.”
Again, at twilight, the guests assembled on
the veranda for the evening talk. The strangers
who had before listened from the outside, were
now seated within the charmed circle. My
thoughts were burdened with the strange ex-
perience of the night, but I could not speak of
it. It was so mysterious, so inexplicable, that
I could only ponder it in my heart in silence.
Miss Kate, who had proposed this evening's
entertainment, was called upon to speak first.
“Wait a minute, please,” said Harry. “Here
comes the coach, I’ll make Joe open this ball
for us without knowing what he is doing.”
“Hallo Joe, what was it about your acci-
dent the other day ? Did your horses really
get away from you ?” called out Harry as the
coach drew up before the door.

Fox Przy’s SAKE. 77.
“My accident,” said Joe. “It wa'nt no acci-
dent of mine — but ’twas mighty hard on my
team, though. Golly I ha’nt turned round
for two weeks without runnin' up agin some-
body who's asked me about my accident. It
makes me want to chuck them boys into the
middle of the river and leave 'em to get out
as they can. I didn't have a ghost of a chance
to stop it —jest had to look on and see the
whole thing go to destruction.
You see, I stopped over there to Miss
Plumb's and had to go up two flights after a
trunk. 'Twas all right to leave 'em alone, for
you know, old coach hosses'll most gener’ly
stan' still faster'n they’ll go, - and I knew
these fellers wouldn't move out o' their tracks
of their own accord, if I stayed long enough to
pack the trunk 'fore I brought it down. An' I
vow, I didn't s’pose there was anything on
earth that could scare 'em. I was pretty well
knocked, you bet, when I come out, and saw
'em tearin’ down street as if Satan was at their
heels ; the old coach bobbin' up an’ down like a
rubber ball. They were headed for the stable,
but I knew somethin' had got to crack 'fore they
got there, — an’ there did. Gee Whittaker
Didn't they go round that corner like a blue
streak 2 You couldn’t see nothin’ for dust.
78 A'O/C A/Z'Y',S SAATA.

There's the cussedest lot of boys over in
Bull Dog Alley you ever see, – in this town or
any other. They got hold of a little dog, —
a good for nothin' innocent little cur — never
done any harm in his life, – but them scalla-
wags jest bothered and tormented him a while,
and then finished up by tyin' a tin kittle to
his tail, and let him go. They thought 'twas
good fun, but I reckon they laughed out o' the
other corner o' their mouths 'fore they got
through with the job.
The little feller run, howlin' and yelpin' —
scared to death — right under my coach and
between my hosses' legs. The dog want to
blame – the hosses wa’nt to blame – but
them boys deserved a good lickin’ and I guess
some on 'em got it that night ; – but that
didn't pay fifty dollars for gettin' my coach
mended — nor for lamin' old Jim so I couldn't
drive him for two weeks. You’d better b'lieve
them boys won't play that game on me again,
for a shameder lookin' crowd I never see in my
life, after they found out what they'd done.
The Boss tried to get some pay for damages
out of their fathers and mothers; but you know
sich trash never has any money, so he had to
stand the racket himself. I make 'em sorryer
every day, for they don't get any more rides on

AſOAC /2/7')?’.S. SAAT/2. 79
my rack. I'll give the fust one that tries it a
cut that he won't forgit in a hurry.”
Here the clerk coming to the door, called
out “train time ’’ to Joe, – who quickly turned
and hurried away.
Harry laughingly said, “Number One —
Coachman's Tale — not on the program. You
will please credit it to me. Now, Miss Kate,
begging your pardon, we are ready for Number
TWO.”
FROM MY WINDOW.
“I am simply going to tell you what I have
seen and heard from the windows in my room.
I came out here early in the spring and chose
the room solely for the grand distant view. It
is on the third floor at the extreme end of the
L. It is large and low-posted, with windows
west and north overlooking a beautiful country;
the scene bounded by a horizon line of moun-
tains. Wachuset, Monadnoc, Joe English,
Crotchet Mountain, the . Uncanunucks, Kear-
Sarge, and many others are in sight, and have
greeted me every clear morning throughout the
season. The sunsets, too, have been glorious
beyond description. All this I had a faint ex-
pectation of before I came ; but it was left for
me to discover that the fore-ground of this

8o AWO/C A/7'Y',S S.A.A.A.
grand scene, the field behind the house and
stable, would furnish me with entertainment all
summer. From my western window I have
had such an opportunity to study horses, dogs,
cats, cows and birds, as I never had before in
my life. I have improved my time observing’
on these lines, and believe it has been well
spent. -
Early in the season the birds fascinated me
so that I could do little but watch them. The
bobolinks were here, dressed in their beautiful
“courting-suits.” They sang on the topmost
twigs of the trees, or when flying through the
air, till they seemed to be bewitched by their
own mad music. Now and then a flash of
color told where an Oriole or a blue-bird was
darting through the trees. There is an oriole's
nest now hanging on a limb not very far from
my window. I can see a bit of hamburg edg-
ing on one side and a needle suspended from it
by a long white thread.
There were vireos, cat-birds, red-winged
black birds, swallows and hosts of others; to
say nothing of robins and the dear little song
sparrows, galore. Yellow-hammers, I am told,
have built their nests within ten rods of the
house for years. I have often heard the notes
of whip-poor-will and quail in the distance; but
FOK PZZY'S SAKE. 81
the sweetest and most interesting of all, were
the little humming-birds that built their nest
and reared their family high up in this horse-
chestnut in front of the house. From an upper
room one could see the long bills of the hungry
nestlings when the old birds hovered over
them with food. This room was occupied by a
lady from New York, who watched this tiny
bird family with great interest. After the nest
was deserted, the little twig that held it was
carefully cut from the tree, and she took the
dainty thing home with her to show to her city
friends. -
All the animals on the place take their out-
ings in this field that I spoke of. I have
studied the horses until I think I know their
individual dispositions, and something of their
ideas of things. There are three old coach
horses in use, so each one of them has a few
hours off every day. One of these ancient and
honorable beings, always comes out of the
stable on the fly,– goes three times around the
field without stopping, head and tail in the air.
Forgetting the dreariness of his life, he looks
as if he might bring a small fortune if sold for
a trotter. . Then he settles quietly down to
feeding and loses no more time. The other
two seem to take supreme satisfaction in roll-

82 . A'OA’ A/Z'Y',S SAATA.
ing, before they devote themselves to feeding
on the grass.
The stranger horses that come in from long
drives, in nearly every case, stand still for a
few minutes looking in every direction, as if
trying to realize that they are free. Then
they slowly walk around,
select a level spot, and treat
themselves to such a
roll that it does one
good to watch
them. After
that comes
the grass, un-
til they are
taken in re-
freshed both
in body and
soul. There
is a trotter in the
stable that is my
especial delight. When he takes his turn I
always wish my room was a grand stand, and I
had a crowd there to see him. I don't enjoy
trotting, when there is a jockey behind, holding
whip and rein ; but to see that graceful creat-
ure, free as the wind, trotting simply for the
love of it, is an inspiration. One day I leaned





AOA' A'ZZ'Y'S SAATE. 83
far out on the window-sill, shouted and waved
my handkerchief. I am sure he understood it,
for after a round or two, he stopped and looked
towards me,
“Smiled and bowed,” interrupted Harry be-
fore Miss Kate could finish her sentence.
“As you like it,” she replied, “It wouldn't
have surprised me if he had. I have all my life
been used to seeing jaded animals wearily
dragging street-cars ; patient team horses
struggling to back great carts into narrow
alleys; scared creatures rushed about within
an inch of their lives by grocery boys ; and the
noble beasts of fashion bitted and checked to
the verge of mortal agony. It gave me a new
sensation to know that a horse could lead a
happy life, and show it so clearly.
Midget, one of the ponies, often runs in the
field from morning till night. His life's work
has so far, been chiefly play. He is as full of
fun and mischief as some small boys that I
know, and he shows it in much the same way.
I saw him steal up behind old Baldy one day—
give him a sharp nip — then run away as fast
as he could. Midget did this two or three
times; but Baldy's one idea was to get as much
grass as possible so he didn't even lift his head.
The pony, growing bolder, bit so savagely that
84 AWOAC A/Z"Y”.S. SAAT/2.
the old fellow evidently thought it time to stop
it. He started after the little rascal so furi-
ously that Midget had to scamper to get out of
his way. The horse went on feeding, but I
could see by the pony's maneuvers that he was
planning another attack. Watching him closely,
I knew the method was clear in his mind,
when he fearlessly took a bee line for Baldy
and nipped him hard as before.
You would have laughed to see the funny
race. Midget going for all he was worth
straight to the spot he started from – Baldy
close to his heels. When the pony reached
the fence, I was amazed to see him lie down
flat, roll under, then deliberately get up and
shake himself on the other side. I was so
much interested in the affair that I ran out,
and found there was quite a little hollow in
the ground which gave him ample room to
roll under, only in that one spot. I tried to
make him go back the same way, but no —
he wouldn't understand my meaning. He
looked as innocent as old Baldy did surprised.
A man from the stable had to go out and lead
him around through the gate.
You know the old well in the field, where
the pump and the tub make such a pretty pic-
ture under the apple-tree ? One morning Midget



A’OA’ Zº/Z'Y',S SAATA. 85
went for a drink, but the tub was dry. He
shook his shaggy mane and stamped as if
angry, then mounted the platform, took the
pump-handle in his mouth and worked it all
ways but the right one, up and down. I think
in time he would have mastered the difficulty,
but while I was watching him, a man went out
to fill the tub, so there was no need of further
taxing his ingenuity.
I must tell you about the most novel funeral
procession that I ever saw. Early in the sum-
mer a colt died in the stable. A grave was
dug for the poor little fellow out in the farthest
corner of the field. The dead colt was drawn
out of the stable on a low-wheeled drag, by a
pair of horses. The loose horses had been
taken in, as such an unusual affair might be
too exciting. No one thought that the “stupid
cows' would take the least notice of what was
going on. Five or six cows were there quietly
grazing. All of them looked up as if to see
what sort of a conveyance was coming – then
with one accord ran towards it, — fell into line
single file, – followed the remains to their last
resting place, — and stood there in as quiet and
decorous a manner as any company of mourn-
ers, until all was over. It was most pathetic,
86 AWOAZ AZZ"Y”.S. SAA E.
as well as one of the oddest proceedings I ever
witnessed. -
Down in the wood-shed, three stories below
my window, there is a very interesting cat
family. Old cats, middle aged cats, young
cats and kittens have their fun in the back
yard ; and it is fun for me to watch them. The
Cats are the special pets of the steward and
cook. No one doubts that they live on the fat
of the land. I have heard country people say,
‘Oh, we never feed our cats, we want them to
catch mice.” Such people ought to see these
sleek, well-fed, handsome, graceful creatures,
and know that they are the best mousers in
the world. Tiger and the cats live on the best
of terms. In fact, I think he enjoys having
them purr around him. I might go on all
night telling what I have seen this summer, all
within the boundaries of this great field ; but
I have already taken more time than I ought.”
After listening to the mirthful comments of
the young people on her show windows, Miss
Kate turned to a pretty lady dressed in blue,
and asked her to please stop the nonsense by
telling something about birds. The lady began,
by repeating a few lines from Longfellow, whose
tenderness to God’s humblest creatures is as
widely known as his name.

AſO/P AE/Z'Y',S SAAT/2. 87
ABOUT BIRDS.
“Do you not think what wondrous beings these ?
Do you ne'er think who made them, and who taught
The dialect they speak, where melodies
Alone are the interpreters of thought?
You call them thieves and pillagers, but know
They are the winged wardens of your farms,
Who from the cornfields drive the insidious foe,
And from your harvests keep a hundred harms.’
Three years ago, the lore of bird-dom was
a sealed book to me. Of course, I knew a
robin and a crow ; and no one who is not color-
blind can mistake a blue-bird or a black-bird.
Deyond this meagre knowledge, a bird was a
bird to me, and I made no pretense of knowing
anything of its name, its ‘hame,' its haunts or
its habits. I was not well at that time and my
friends urged me to go to the Isles of Shoals,
where one can get the benefit of the invigora-
ting sea air without the discomfort of a long
sea voyage. For a week or more, “Go to the
Shoals ' was dinned into my ears, till in self
defence I packed my belongings and started.
It was, to me, a red-letter day, for I passed
four busy happy weeks there gaining health
and strength ; and brought home with me a
store of pleasant memories and beautiful pic-
º

88 APOA” A/Z"Y”.S. SAATA.
tures of sea and sky that I shall treasure for a
life-time.
You all know the Isles of Shoals, those
bleak, rugged little islands off the wee bit
coast of New Hampshire 2 They are scarcely
more than heaps of rocks with here and there
a brilliant patch of verdure. To a lover of the
sea, one of the most enchanting spots on earth
when old Atlantic is on his good behavior; but
a place of indescribable terror when the ocean
is in a rage.
There, I met Mrs. Celia Thaxter, whose :
genius and charming personality have made
her wind-blown home so famous. Every hour
I passed with her, seeing with her eyes and
hearing with her ears, some new delight in
nature was revealed to me. I was forced to
confess with shame that I had journeyed so far
through this beautiful world, blind and deaf to
charms that everywhere abound – only for
those whose senses are in tune. I am grate-
ful every day for the new joys that through
her have come into my life. Mrs. Thaxter's
enthusiasm and love for birds and flowers
proved to be contagious. I studied birds dur-
ing those four weeks with a will, and no one
ever had a more inspiring teacher. A pair of
bobolinks stopped at the island one day, and if


A'O/C A/Z'Y',S SAATA. 89
they had been a pair of Europe's crowned
heads they could not have received more atten-
tion. She watched their every movement with
a bird-like alertness, and not a note of their
liquid music escaped her ear. Every one on
the island shared the excitement caused by
this distinguished arrival. The stay of the
bobolinks was short as they were doubtless in
haste to reach the main-land. Many birds of
many kinds find these “scraps of terra firma'
convenient resting-places in migrating seasons.
I wonder how many of you know Edgar
Fawcett's exquisite lines ‘To an Oriole.' I
think I can repeat them ; but I beg the author's
pardon if I blunder, for one word changed —
there is a flaw in the gem :
‘How falls it, Oriole, thou hast chanced to fly
In tropic splendor through our northern sky?
At some glad moment was it Nature's choice
To dower a scrap of sunset with a voice P
Or did an orange tulip flecked with black,
In some forgotten garden, ages back,
Yearning toward heaven until its wish were heard
Desire, unspeakably, to be a bird P’
One morning not long ago I was wakened
early by the gay carol of an Oriole. I sprang
out of bed and to the window, for a glimpse of
a golden robin is enough to put one in good
humor for the day. There was the glorious
90 A'OAC A/Z'Y',S SAATA.
-
creature on the top of an apple tree under my
window. There was an enormous caterpillar's
nest in the tree, so hidden from the ground
that it had escaped destruction. The bird went
directly to it, as one would go to his hotel table
for breakfast, tore the nest open from end to
end with one stroke of his beak; then helped
himself to what was no doubt a right royal
breakfast for an Oriole. -
I tell you, the value of our birds as insect-
destroyers is not half appreciated. We know
that every green and growing thing has its
pest, and that the birds are Nature's weapons
to fight these pests. If we only had birds
enough to do the business, thousands of dollars
that are spent every year to get rid of canker-
worms, caterpillars, and myriads of vile grubs
might be saved, or used in a more satisfactory
way. But how can we have birds enough if
the hand of every man, woman, and child, is
against them From the time the eggs are
laid in the nests in the spring to the day of
migration, those who should be the natural
protectors of the feathered tribes, lie in wait to
destroy them.
We read that man was given dominion over
the fowl of the air. Does that mean that every
little gamin may raid upon and destroy bird's


A’OA’ ZºZZTY”.S. SAATA. 9I
nests and eggs wherever he finds them 2 Does
it mean that every proper little school boy
shall be encouraged to take just one egg of a
kind from the nests to make a collection 2
Does it mean that our young men shall further
aid this process of extermination with fire arms,
and bang away at every harmless feathered
creature which crosses their path in the forest ?
Does it mean that the most beautiful birds
on earth shall be hunted out of existence for
the purpose of supplying the world with feather
dusters ? Does it mean that the innocents
shall be slaughtered by the wholesale, that
women's hats and bonnets may be adorned
with the gay plumage of poor murdered things 3
‘A slaughter to be told in groans, not words,
The very St. Bartholomew of Birds.’
It is said that American dealers alone, re-
ceive five millions of birds yearly for millinery
purposes. Imagine the numbers used in Lon-
don, Paris, and all the other great cities on the
other side. Think of thirty-two thousand dead
humming-birds in a single consignment re-
zº ceived by a London dealer and eight hundred
_2^ thousand pairs of wings, in one fell swoop
Why cannot ‘gentle woman adorn herself
with ribbons and flowers — and let the Sw





92 AſOAC A/Z'Y',S SAATAZ.
songsters live * Why will she demand the
sacrifice of the nightingale that she may dec-
orate her head with its wings How long will
she cling to this barbarous custom ; – crown-
ing herself with a tuft of feathers – the head.
gear of a savage? w
Fashion says that my lady must wear the re-
mains of a dead bird upon her hat, and she is
too week-kneed to stand up and protest against
the abominable decree. Women alone can put
a stop to this wholesale horror that threatens
the extinction of whole families of these beauti-
ful creatures. The trade in dead birds which
has reached tremendous proportions, is like
other trades, dependent upon demand and
supply. From the appearance of the shop
windows I judge that the supply is now abun-
dant. Women, alone, can put a stop to the
demand. It is high time for them to cry
aloud against this cruelty. -
The sufferings of the mother-bird must
touch the mother-pity in woman, as she reads
again and again the story – “Torn from her
nest, stripped of her beautiful plumage, thrown
upon the ground to die in agony at the foot
of the tree, where she can hear the cries of
her starving little ones in the nest above.”


AOR PITY'S SAAE. 93.
All this, for a tuft of feathers | What savages
these mortals be
Every right-minded woman should look this
matter squarely in the face and say to herself,
‘What can I do to put a stop to this evil?”
Whatsoever her conscience answers; let her do
it with all her might.
“Ah, life, and joy, and song, depend upon it,
Are costly trimmings for a woman's bonnet.”
Farmers would be working for their own
interests if they would form leagues to forbid all
shooting of birds on their premises. School
boards and teachers can become a mighty
power in training the rising generation to love
and protect the little warblers. May not some
force be brought to bear upon the legislative
bodies of every state in our Union, that will
cause them not only to pass laws for the pro-
tection of the birds, but to enforce them also 2
It is a serious matter and worthy the atten-
tion of every man, woman, and child, in Christ-
endom. But, Oh dear! one may talk and talk
till all is blue, and this destruction of the dear,
bright, beautiful creatures will still go on.
Some day we shall discover that whole families.
of our native song-birds are gone, – extermi-
nated ; – and the National Museum will send
scientists to and fro, here and there, to gather










94 APO/C A/Z'Y'S SAA E.
if possible enough to reconstruct “specimens.’
They cannot reconstruct their song, even with
the aid of the wizard's ’ latest invention.
There are cases, we are told, where certain
kinds of birds in great numbers are so destruc-
tive that man, in self defence, is obliged to use
heroic measures. One does not willingly be-
lieve the stories told of the transformation
scenes that take place in the lives of our be-
loved bobolinks. It would seem that they
carry on a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde sort of
life; charming us at the North with their
beauty and their rollicking song ; then, in the
homely garb of reed birds and rice birds, en-
raging the farmers and planters of the South
by wantonly destroying their grain crops.
We will not quarrel with the planters for
trying to exterminate their visitors if they are,
in truth, so very destructive. We will trust,
however, that they will never succeed ; for
when the spring comes and there are no bobo-
links in the meadows of New England, the in-
habitants will have cause to mourn.”
“What are you doing 2" said a young mother
to her little daughter who had been allowed to
sit up long after her bed-time.
“I am trying to get this dear little humming:
bird off my hat, and I'll never, never, wear
A'O/C A/7').”.S. SAATA. 95
another birdie as long as I live,” said the little
girl, with tears in her voice if not in her eyes.
“I will take back all I have said about the
hopelessness of talking on this matter,” con-
tinued the lady in blue, “this is bearing fruit
already. I will believe that every word, in
season, and out of season, will tell, although
we may sometimes get desperately discouraged.
I remember a little incident apropos of this.
You know in warm climates poultry is brought
to market alive. I was in one of our southern
cities last winter, and it constantly distressed
me to see fowls crowded into dirty little coops,
and left out in the blazing sun from morning
till night often without food or water. One
day, stopping in front of a market, I looked for
a moment at the wretched drooping creatures ;
then, summoning what tact I could command,
ventured in and asked one of the men in charge
to go out and give the fowls some water. He
colored to the roots of his hair as he said, “Oh
they've had plenty of water to-day.' I insisted
on his going out with me to the coops. On
seeing the condition the creatures were in, he
acknowledged that the tins were pretty dry.
‘Yes,’ said I, they were dry this morning, dry
this noon, and now it is nearly night and not a
drop of water have these poor things had to-day.”


96 A'O/C A/7').”.S. SAA. A.
He poured water into the tins. I watched
the thirsty creatures as they tumbled over each
other in haste to reach the cooling drink, and
fancied they were giving thanks when they
lifted their heads to let it run down their
parched throats. Strange, that the public
doesn’t demand better treatment of them for
health's sake if not for humanity's. How can
people buy for food, the heated, feverish, neg-
lected chickens that have been cooped up for
hours, uncovered, in the burning sun.
About three weeks after this, when out
walking in the suburbs one morning, I met a
man with a market basket on his arm. His
face was familiar, though I couldn't place him.
He looked at me in such an interested way, his
hand half raised as if to lift his hat, that I ven-
tured to bow. In an instant, his face beaming
all over, he called out in the cheeriest way,
* Good morning, Lady, I've watered my hens
to-day.’ You may be sure I gave him my ap-
proval with no uncertain sound. I never saw
|him again; but I have the satisfaction of know-
ing, that when shaking in my shoes, I appeal-
ed to him in behalf of his suffering fowls I
sowed a seed that quickly brought forth good
fruit.
People in hot climates who rarely go out

AO/C A/Z'Y'S SAA E. 97
without spreading generous umbrellas over
their own heads, are strangely indifferent to the
comfort of animals. They leave horses hitched
for hours in the burning sun, without giving
them a thought, I have seen mocking-birds, in
cages that were hung against hot brick walls
where nothing but sun-set could give them any
relief. I suppose mocking-birds will be caught
and caged as long as northern people will buy
them. How one's heart aches for the restless
captives, hopelessly beating their wings against
their prison bars. When free in its own sunny
South, poised on the topmost branch of an
Orange tree, the mocking-bird pours forth a
most surprising torrent of melody; but in cap-
tivity its song grows harsh and shrill.
To take another point of view. Few of us,
even the most thoughtful, realize how early in
life habits are formed and characters moulded.
The force of early impressions is tremendous.
Memory's pictures of childhood are clear cut
and strong, as compared with the faint, imper-
fect prints of later years. What shall be the
character of these deep and lasting impressions
is a vital question to the educator of children.
The hope of the future is in the public schools.
What they are doing to-day is a cause, that will
produce its effect in the days to come. Are

98 A'O/C A/Z'Y',S SAATA.
they educating the head at the expense of the
heart 2 Are they developing moral and spirit-
ual growth side by side with the intellectual,
in the building up of character 2 The aim and
ideals of modern education are noble and true
beyond a question. It is a wise leader, how-
ever, who recognizes the best means to the
desired end.
The science studies in the public schools
are opening the eyes of children to-day, so that
life ought to mean far more to them than it
did to children a generation ago. But the im-
portance of studying nature aright is infinite.
What a charming picture of a nature study
Longfellow drew when he wrote of the infant
Agassiz,
‘And Nature the old nurse, took
The child upon her knee,
Saying: Here is a story book
Thy Father hath written for thee.
And he wandered away and away
With Nature, the dear old nurse,
Who sang to him night and day
The rhymes of the universe.”
Emerson struck a key-note when he said,
* He who knows what sweetness and virtue are
in the ground, the waters, the plants, the
heavens, and how to come at these enchant-
AWO/C A/7"V’.S. SAATA2. 99
ments is the rich and royal man.’ The ques-
tion is, what methods shall be used to come at
these enchantments 2 I think it is time to
change the base of nature studies when birds
and squirrels are kept in miserable captivity in
the school-room that the children may observe
them and their habits. When tad-poles, dead
and dying, in bottles of fetid water are held be-
fore the class for the purpose of illustration.
When every small child has its own wide-
mouthed bottle, labelled poison, — in which
it kills all the creeping, flying’ hopping little
creatures it can lay its hands on, for a
‘collection.’ Would it not be far wiser to have
for each school, a fine full collection of insects
properly prepared for general use 2
When I was a small child in the public
schools, we read from Bryant,
“Go forth under the open sky and list
To Nature's Teachings.” *
And from Cowper, º
º
‘I would not enter on my list of friends º
(Though graced with polished manners and fine sense;
Yet wanting sensibility,) the man
Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm.’
Wordsworth’s tender lines to birds and butter-
flies stirred our sympathies, Scott's beautiful
tribute to the faithful dog touched our hearts.

IOO AſO/C A/7'Y',S SAATA2.
We read ‘The Birds of Killingworth,’ ‘The
Bell of Atri,’ and many other selections of
similar spirit. We not only read them but
committed them to memory, and memory holds
them still. The lesson we learned from them
is never to be forgotten. -
The influence of humane literature on young
minds is inestimable. I believe with Mr. An-
gell, President of the Massachusetts Society
for Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, ‘that
just so soon and so far as we pour into Our
schools the literature of mercy towards the
lower creatures ; just so soon and so far shall
we reach the roots, not only of cruelty but of
crime.’ Speaking of President Angell suggests
another quotation,
|That man I honor and revere,
Who without favor, without fear,
|In the great city dares to stand
The friend of every friendless beast,
And tames with his unflinching hand
The brutes that wear our form and face,
he were-wolves of the human race.”
With John Burroughs, Bradford Torrey,
Olive Thorne Miller, and many other bird-
lovers, how rich the schools are in bird-lore
to-day. How rich, too, in literature to aid and
inspire the nature studies on every line.





AſOA’ /2/7'Y',S SAATA. IOI
Dissection of small animals is thought by
some public school instructors to be an im-
portant feature in the new educational methods.
Training children to observe, to think, and to
form their own conclusions, is no doubt leading
them along the lines of true education. But,
for the love of God why give them gruesome
death to observe,' when the world is full of
life, light and beauty Why put murderous
thoughts into their young minds Why nur-
ture cruel instincts in hearts that should be
filled with tenderness 2 Cannot all necessary
instruction be given in some way that will not
thus early familiarize them with cruelty and
blood Will not the microscope serve better
than the scalpel to show to the young the
wonders of nature, to increase their power to
see the beautiful, to inspire them with nobler
impulses and higher thoughts 2
When out driving one day, I passed a party
of very small children who were catching
butterflies among the wild flowers by the road-
side. Some had nets, but those who had none
used their hats very deftly. I stopped and
asked what they were going to do with them.
A dirty-faced little boy answered, “Put 'em in
the suller.' Imagine butterfly life in a cellar !
The beautiful Parable of Mrs. Gatty makes no


I O2 ZOA P/Z"Y'S SAA E.
w
provision for such a possibility. Think of all
these little people with nets and bottles devot-
ing their play-time to catching and killing
insects, and observing them in their dying
agonies It did not surprise me, for I had
read in a guide-book to teachers these words,
“Encourage the children to make collections
for themselves.’ This was followed by direc-
tions for preparing and administering the poison.
Imagine all the public school children in the
country turned loose to make collections of
birds' eggs and butterflies. No mistake would
be made if they were sent out to aid the birds
in a crusade against canker-worms, tussock
moths, and such. Many kinds of beetles, bugs,
wasps, and guaze-winged flies are vigorous co-
workers with the birds in making warfare on
injurious grubs. Through ignorance and
thoughtlessness these natural protectors of the
crops have too long been destroyed by man.
All that children can learn towards distinguish-
ing between the friendly insects and the de-
structive pests, will be capital, for the next
generation.
You may call me a crank, but I believe it is
a mistake to teach Botany to very young
children as it is often taught. I would have
the little people first learn to love the spirit of
AOA' P/7'Y'S SAATE. IO3
•
the flower. I would have them study its beauty
of form and color, try to draw and possibly to
paint it, learn to handle it tenderly and pre-
serve its frail life as long as possible, instead
of ruthlessly tearing the dear thing in pieces
to find out how many stamens, pistils, petals,
it may have and who or what are its family
relations. There will be time enough to study
the physical mechanism, after reverence and
love for nature's sweetest things are implanted
in the heart. -
But wasn't I asked to tell you something
about birds I beg your pardon for letting
them fly away from me.”
Here, Miss Kate, the moving spirit of the
party, said to Tom and Harry, “Now boys, if
you have anything to say, this is your time. I
shall not allow you to stay after study hour, to
run the risk of adding to a list of marks that I
know is already dangerously long.”
WHAT TOM HAS TO SAY ABOUT DOGS.
“I wish I could see my dog to-night. I
never went so long before without a dog to fol-
low me. Some of the fellows keep them in
their rooms, or tied up in sheds where they
board ; but I wouldn't give a picayune for a dog
unless I could keep him in good condition.

IO4. A'OA” A/Z'Y',S SAATA.
*
Deliver me from an unhappy dog. My dogs
are always fed twice a day — I don't believe in
this one meal theory. They are never chained,
unless it is necessary for some special reason.
At home, there is plenty of water near by so
they can get all they want, to drink or to swim
in any hour of the day. Given – plenty of
food, water, and exercise, and your dog is
pretty sure to be all right. I tell you, if you
want a friend that will stick by you through
thick and thin, lay up nothing against you,
follow you to the ends of the earth and starve
to death on your grave, get a good dog.
One can never be very lonely with a bright
dog for company. I am acquainted with a
good many fine dogs but don't have a chance
to meet them very often now. My uncle in
Somerville has a Newfoundland, a great splen-
did fellow, who never fails to meet his master
at the station on the arrival of the five-twenty
train out from Boston. How the dog knows
that particular train, when trains are coming
and going every minute, is the query.”
“How's this, Tom 2 Do you use the pro-
noun ‘who’ at your school in speaking of
dogs ’’’ interrupted some one.
“Well, if Sir Walter Scott can use ‘who’ in
writing of a cat,” said Tom, “I think I may be


AſOA’ A/Z'Y',S SAATA2. , IOS
forgiven. No more interruptions please unless
for applause.
A cousin of mine has a little black and tan
terrier, a knowing little chap as ever lived.
Every Sunday morning the dog goes to church
fully an hour before any of the family starts.
When they get there, the little fellow meets
them in the vestibule, wiggling all over, he is
so glad they have come. But his Sunday even-
ing performance is still funnier. My cousin's
best girl lives a mile or more away, but there is
never a Sunday night that the dog doesn't get
there first. You may be sure he is cordially
received and well entertained until his master
appears.
Some of you who were here two years ago
must remember a setter named Jake that be-
longed to a gentleman boarding here. There
was nothing remarkable looking about Jake,
but he did some queer things. Soon after he
left here his master's father died. The dog
grew restless and seemed all the time to be
looking for the old gentleman of whom he was
very fond. One day Jake went with his master
into a photographer's rooms in the city where
a photograph of the father, that had been
thrown up to nearly life size, stood on a low
rack with several others. The dog wandered

106 . AſO/C A/7')/ 'S SAATA2.
about the room – stopped before this picture—
looked at it sharply, tried to get behind it; then
taking the pasteboard in his mouth he threw
himself down upon the floor and deliberately
tore it in pieces. His master and the artist
stood by and quietly watched the whole proceed-
ing. Now, what could the dog have thought 2
Did he suppose that the old gentleman was
somehow in the picture, and tearing it would
let him out 2 or was he so disgusted when he
found the sham that he made an end of it on
the spot 2
Jake was sent to a farm in the country the
next fall, where he had a good home and a
chance to run in the woods often enough to
keep him in good spirits. The woman of the
house, a hard worker like most country women,
was washing one Monday morning, Jake, her
only companion lying in a warm corner on the
floor. As she put the last stick of wood into
the stove she said to the dog, ‘Jake, I should
think you might go out and bring me in some
more wood.’ To her amazement he started
for the wood-pile, and brought in one stick at a
time until the box was full. When the good
woman told the story she said she was about
as much frightened as she was surprised.
I sometimes think if dogs could speak they
AO/C A/Z'Y”.S. SAATA2. Io?
might tell us a good many things that would
surprise us. That ridiculous little pug sitting
there on the horse-block, looks now, as if he
could solve problems and clear up mysteries
that stagger the knowing ones. Whoever gave
him his name had an eye to the fitness of
things, for no ‘Judge ' ever wore the wig who
looked wiser than he.
And that tiny Daniel Deronda,' Miss
Elizabeth Stuart Phelps' little pet, has his full
share of brains. I saw him do a neat thing
one day. Miss Phelps came into the hall here
and passed on into the office. The little dog
was following her, but to my surprise he stop-
ped on the door-sill. He is just a bit afraid of
the Newfoundland. He didn't dare to pass
the great dog who was lying in the narrowest
part of the passage. I have been told that
Tiger treated him shabbily once on a time, but
I am inclined to think it was only rough play.
Daniel hesitated an instant – then rushed up
the front stairs — though the upper hall —
down the back stairs — and ran into the Office
looking quite conscious that he had overcome
the difficulty very cleverly.
Mrs. Stowe used to be very fond of dogs.
People who remember her when the stone
cabin was her home, often speak of her beauti-


Io8 A'OA” A/Z'Y',S SAA E.
ful dogs and of her love for them. She had a
fine grey-hound that was presented to her when
she was abroad. There are two little grassy
mounds on the old place now ; one, on the
lawn in front of the house under the shrubbery,
the other, under a horse-chestnut tree at the
rear. The lady who lives there has always
carefully preserved them, because, she says,
they look so much like little graves. Not long
ago, when a son and a daughter of Mrs. Stowe
visited the old home, she found out that they
were the graves of little dogs. It gladdened
the hearts of the visitors to find that the
burial places of their pets, Florence and
Chumb, had never been disturbed.
A funny little story is told here of one of
Mrs. Stowe's sons. When a very small boy,
he and his dog were inseparable. The love be-
tween them was something pathetic. The dog
was a clever, affectionate little fellow but had
no aristocratic lineage to boast of. One day
the boy came home with tears in his eyes.
One of his play-mates who had a bull terrier,
and another who had a mastiff, had told him
that his dog wasn't worth a straw ; it was just
a good-for-nothing cur. Professor Stowe, on
hearing the grievance, said, ‘My son, go directly
back and tell those boys that your dog is a full-
AſOA’ A/7')?’,S SAATA. Io9
blooded mongrel, and that your father says a
better dog cannot be found in this town.'
One of the Professors here now, has a hand-
some Irish setter, so full of life that he cannot
keep on the ground. He has a habit of making
a rush for gates, bars, fences, – and before one
can say Jack Robinson he bounds over the
highest of them, - then turning, comes back
the same way, simply for the fun of it. He
wants nothing better in the world than a chance
to run with the horse and buggy when the Pro-
fessor takes his daily drive. They were going
past one of the old farm-houses in the country
where there is an old-time well-sweep. The
dog had been brought up on modern improve-
ments, so the well-curb only suggested some-
thing for him to jump over. He made a rush
for it. The Professor saw what he was driving
at, and called furiously, but you might as well
try to stop a cyclone as to turn him after he
Once gets started. He jumped, = and went to
the bottom of a well twenty or thirty feet deep.
His master tried to fish him out by making a
slip-noose with the reins but he couldn't do it
alone. He had to leave him there and go for
help. He found a man who went down the
well and fastened a rope around him. Together
they managed to rescue him. Dash came up a



II O AſO/C A/Z'Y',S SAA E.
little sadder and wiser, perhaps, and pretty
well soaked. He knows better than to be
taken in by a well-curb again.
Last summer, a lady boarded here whose
home is only ten miles away. She left her
little dog at home with the rest of the family.
Somehow, he discovered that she was here,
and every Sunday afternoon for several weeks
that dog came alone, ten miles over the road,
to visit her. One Sunday, rain poured in tor-
rents all day. Several people spoke of the
dog. All thought the weather would be too
much for him ; but his mistress, laughing, said
that she shouldn't give him up until bed-time.
About seven o’clock Beppo ’ came in. A
more bespattered, bedraggled creature you
never laid eyes on. After being well washed,
rubbed down and fed, he curled up on a fur
rug before the open fire. Too tired to wag his
tail, there was a satisfied look in his eyes that
told a story without words.
Did you never notice the human, - the
almost speaking look in a dog's eyes }
The story goes, that once on a time, long
ago, when dogs could talk, there was a beautiful
princess who used to send messages on the sly
to her lover, by her faithful collie. She was
closely watched by all her people, but she had

AO/C A/7')^’.S. SAATA. III
only to whisper into the collie's ear that her
father was planning to wed her to a prince
whom she hated, when away he went, scarcely
stopping to breathe until he had found the
truly lover and told him the whole story. At
night the lover scaled the castle wall and car-
ried the princess away in his arms; as any true
love would be expected to do under the cir-
cumstances. The dog, it seems, was captured
on his way home by the king's spies, – taken
to the wicked old demi-god, and accused of
causing all the mischief by telling tales. His
punishment, a terrible one, was shared by the
whole race of dogs; for they were doomed to
be dumb, ever after. So it came about, that
the dog now tries so hard to speak with his
eyes. I cannot vouch for the absolute truth of
this story, as I wasn't there, and didn't know
any of the parties; but the others are all right.
A stranger who had a black and tan terrier
with him stopped here one day to dinner. He
went into the dining-room leaving the little
fellow tied with a long, strong cord to a leg of
the settee in the office. The dog whined and
howled as if he was being murdered. Tiger
came running in from outside to see what was
up. He understood it, and took it upon him-
self to stop the racket without letting him get
II 2 A'O/C A/Z"Y”.S. SAATA2.

away. He gnawed off the cord, leaving about
three feet attached to the little dog's collar:
then took the end of it in his mouth and led
the little cub about the room — up stairs— out
doors and all around ; keeping him quiet and
happy as a kitten till his master came out. It
was so funny, that he was left to keep up the
performance till everybody had a chance to see
it and laugh.
One evening when we were all sitting in the
office, Tiger came in with his mouth wide Open ;
walked straight to one of the ladies and very
carefully laid a little bit of a kitten on her lap.
He stood by her side looking up into her face,
as if he said, ‘I didn’t know what to do with it,
but I thought perhaps you might.' He couldn't
tell where he got it, but we surmised that it
was dropped by some mother cat that was
lugging her family across the country, as cats
often do. Tiger knew it couldn't take care of
itself and I suppose thought he would find
some one to adopt it. Everybody feels safe in
this house at night. Tiger sleeps in the hall
just outside his master's door. When he hears
a noise, he goes down stairs where the doors
stand open so he can go from room to room
and look out of the windows. If he sniffs dan-
ger he gives the alarm. When Tiger speaks

AſOA’ AZZ"Y”.S. SAATA2. II3
in the night some one goes to find out what he
is trying to say. No other night watchman
is needed here. -
Dogs have their joys and sorrows. Some of
them suffer for lack of care. Others suffer
from too much of it. Once in a while a hydro-
phobia scare calls out the muzzles to drive the
sane ones mad. Not long ago, a poor stray
dog was chased over about half of this county.
When at last, he was killed, it was found that
his stomach hadn't a thing in it but a few bits
of chewed up sole leather. We should run
mad if we were starved to that point. It is
a hard-hearted man who will drive a starving
dog from his door without giving him a bone.
There is no other animal on this earth so cruel
as man. Suppose that we were the ‘lower
animals' to a race of beings on earth as far
above us as we think the human race is now
above the brute creation ; that we could under-
stand but little of their language ; that we were
dependent on them for everything, yet could
not tell them when we were hungry, thirsty, or
suffering with pain ; that our rights were what
they saw fit to grant us ; that they could use
our lives and all our powers in their service, —
could even cut our quivering bodies in pieces,
behind the closed doors of their laboratories ;

II.4. A'O/C A/7').”.S. SAATA2.
and there was no one to say, ‘Thou shalt not.’
Unless there was a greater proportion of the
milk of kindness in their hearts than there is
now in the hearts of the human race, shouldn’t
we have a tough time of it * *
HARRY RUSTICATES.
“You all know that I went into the country
for a month last spring. I didn't go for pleas-
ure — I didn't go for my health. I didn't
think, myself, that I had committed a crime
that deserved capital punishment, but, By jolly!
I got it all the same. I never had a better
time in my life. I was all tired out, and just
what I needed was to vegetate. And there
was nothing else for one to do in that forsaken
spot. It is one of those places where people
never go unless they are obliged to, and then
they drive through as fast as they can. I'd
like to have our crowd turned loose in their
Street Some night after a good ball game.
They'd think a lunatic asylum, menagerie, and
the Wild West Show were storming the town.
I boarded with an old farmer and his wife,
and recited to the minister who lived half a
mile away. There was nothing uproariously
exciting going on evenings, so I just pitched in
and studied for all I was worth. Breakfast at

A'OAC A/7').”.S. SAAT/E. I I5
six o'clock in the morning. Recitation at
eight, and after two hours with the parson my
day's work was done. I just lazed away the
rest of the time. Didn't have a newspaper
but once a week, and I was glad of it.
The farmer was a good old soul, his wife was
better; they hadn't a child in the world, but
they had the finest old dog I ever saw in my
life. Smart as a whip — he took as much care
of the place as the old man did. One day an
old hen came out from a hole under the barn,
cackling as if she wanted the whole world to
know she had done something worth making a
noise about. The old man called Jack —
pointed to the hen and to the hole — and said,
“Go find the eggs.' The dog did the rest.
The barn was so low that he couldn't stand
upright, but somehow he managed to squirm
himself along, and in a few minutes he appeared
with an egg in his mouth. He went nine
times and brought an egg safely each time;
then took up the basket the farmer had put
them in and walked off with it to the house as
dignified as a drum major. I won't say he
knocked, or rang the door-bell — but he set
the basket down on the door-step and barked
till the old lady came to let him in. He didn't
have to bark long, either.
II6 AſOA” A/Z'Y',S SAATA.
Jack would go alone to the pasture and
drive the cows home at night. He would lead
the horse to the brook to water, and bring him
back every time. He would carry a dinner-pail
to men at work in the field quarter of a mile
away. If any of the tools were left where his
master had been at work the dog was sent for
them. He saved the old man a great many
more steps than a boy would have done. I re-
member how we laughed to see him coming
with a hoe. He tried several ways that didn't
suit him — then got a good firm grip on it close
to the business end — let the handle drag on
the ground, and so managed it very well. The
hammer, one end so much heavier than the
other, was about as bad as the hoe, but Jack
brought it in all the same.
He was very chummy with the cat. They
would lie down together on the same rug and
eat off the same plate. The cat, too, was no-
body's fool. She went ahead of the dog in one
thing. She could open the door and let him in
when he barked outside. It was funny to see
her jump up, — strike the old fashioned latch
with her paw, and swing in on it when the
door opened. I noticed that they both forgot
to shut it, though.
Jack was raised on a milk farm in New York


AO/C A/Z'Y',S SAATA. II 7
State, and was thought to be worth about as
much as a hired man on the place. He used
to churn, a part of every day, and was the hero
of a story in St. Nicholas called ‘The Little
Churn Dog,'— although the writer never saw
him. Jack would have ended his days where
they began, on the milk farm, for he was the
pet of the whole family; but one unlucky day
he was accused of killing a neighbor's sheep.
Guilty or not guilty, his life was in danger.
There was nothing to prove that he had taken
part in the slaughter, and his master knew that
Jack couldn't do such a mean thing; but there
were the dead sheep ; there was the dog; and
the neighbor, stark mad, was lying in wait for
him with a shot gun. There was nothing to do
but to send him away to save his life.
So it happened that Jack is with my old far-
mer and his wife, where he will have a good
home as long as he lives ; and then a decent
burial.
Now we must be off, Tom l’”
Over thc fence the two boys vaulted, and
burried down the street as on the preceding
evening.
The next one called upon to speak was a
thoughtful looking middle aged woman, who
said if we would promise to listen with patience,

II.8 APO/C A/7"Y”.S. SAA E.
she would talk about the least appreciated of
all our domestic animals, the cat.
A TALK ABOUT CATS.
“After singing the praises of horses, dogs
and birds with so much spirit, I fear you will
not be in tune for a plain talk about nothing
but cats. No other domestic animal has a his-
tory of such varying fortunes as this most love-
able, much-slandered little creature. It has
held positions ranging from the highest to the
lowest, in the scale of human estimation. In
the early days of this old world, the cat was an
object of worship, beloved and feared, the
haughty companion of gods and kings. In a
later age we find it an uncanny, detested, un-
clean thing, the familiar of ghosts and witches,
the associate of imps, and even the symbol of
the arch-fiend himself. The cat figures in the
literature of all ages and all countries from the
days of the Pharaohs to our own time. I have
read that pussy isn't mentioned in the Bible ;
that she first appeared on the monuments of
the middle Egyptian Empire; and what is very
curious, she was evidently used as a retriever
by a hunter of water-fowl. If she disliked to
wet her feet as she does now she must have
hated her vocation. Cat or no cat in the
---
-
- . . - - – - 2. - -
“If, when giving an account of our life's It is God-like to protect those who
Works in that dread Day, whº would find Mercy,
not protect themselves.
remember that we will have to show the Omni- Cannot p
Potent Judge that during our lives on earth we -
T Kind Hearts are more than Coronets.
have shown Mercy to both man and beast.”
–
Com/ſi/ients of /u/abo, Spider, and Toddles.

Tian's Inhumanity.
{ Man’s inhumanity to man is only excelled in
extent and intensity by his inhumanity to dumb
brutes that serve him. The law protects the
poor and weak among men from oppression and
brutality to some extent, but the few weak laws
for the protection of dumb brutes in most of
# the states are rarely executed. Animals are
beaten, overworked, starved and maltreated in
various ways to an extent that is disgraceful to
civilized and Christian nations. The eyes of
animals are often knocked out and their skin
lacerated by Whips and clubs in the hands of
infuriated and often intoxicated drivers and
the laws for the protection of these innocent
and unfortunate animals have no more force
than the English alphabet or the multiplication
tables. The World is full of miserable human
beings and maltreated and neglected domestic
animals, and the noblest men and Women are
those who do the most to relieve the suffering of
men and animals, and the most wicked in the
sight of God are those who cause the greatest
amount of suffering in the world. The money -
king who swallows the honest earnings of MO,000
hard-working families and leaves those he has
craftily and legally robbed to suffer for want of
bread and clothing. will have a heavy account
to settle at the end of his stewardship, and he
will have to draw on a broken bank to make his
| payments. (Col. Dan'l Dennett.)
A Parable.
Now just within the gates of Paradise,
A green field lies, 'mid groves
And streams. In this
The shades of horses WOI’ll in service here
Do graze in peace, and drink the waters clear
In state of equine bliss.
As once St. Peter barred a spirit's Way- -
(Conscience-accused of many kinds of Sin
Out spake a stage-horse phantom,' ‘This man, Lº
Walked, rather than increase my earthly woe
- Then cried the Saint, “Come in !”
Judith Spencer, in Life.

A'O/C A/Z'Y’.S. SAA E. II9
Bible, I shall never forget the delightful pair
of pink cats in the Noah's Ark of my childhood.
The Egyptians must have believed that the
soul of a cat would return to its body, else why
did they think it worthy to be embalmed In
those days, one who dared to kill a cat, soon
found that his own life hung by a slender
thread. A few centuries later, and the ill-fated
creature was hunted with such relentless fury
that there was no peace for it among the habi-
tations of men. When and why it became so
degraded I do not know. Perhaps, when the
gods and goddesses that it had lived among
were dethroned, the people ceased to reverence
the cat and condemned it to become the asso-
ciate of evil spirits. One can imagine some
such occult connection between the ups and
the downs of its life. The early Christian be-
liefs no doubt tended to banish this graceful,
winning creature from polite society. Poor
Puss bore her share in the miseries and mas-
sacres of the innocents in the days of witch-
craft. Her fair fame still suffers from the
inheritance of medieval notions, that reflect
little credit on the nineteenth century.
To-day, the cat is the beloved and well-
cared-for pet in many a household ; the worthy
occupant of her own place on the hearth and in


I 2 O A'O/C A/7')^*,S SAA E.
the home. In many another, — she is neg-
lected, abused, starved, and for no fault of her
own often mercilessly cast out and left to
struggle for a miserable existence. Noted men
and women, philosophers, poets, novelists, kings
and priests have loved this beautiful, soft, furry
creature, appreciated its good qualities, and
the stories they have told of their cherished
pets are known the world over. Victor Hugo,
Renan, Gautier, Cardinal Wolsey and hosts of
others have made the names of their pet cats
famous in history. Richelieu had no less than
twenty beloved felines. His special pets were
trusted to no hireling's care, but were fed from
his own table with his own hands. From
Mahomet, who declared that his adored Muezza
should have a reserved seat in his heaven, down
to Madame Ronner, who is to-day giving to the
art-loving world such delicious pictures of
these born-to-be-petted, basely defamed little
creatures in their most bewitching attitudes,
men and women of world-wide fame have not
been ashamed to avow their love for this purr-
ing thing, and the enjoyment they find in its
society. -
Beatoun said, “If you want to know the
character of a man find out what his cat thinks
of him.’ This is akin to the old saying, ‘Never

AſO/C A/TY'S SAA E. I2 I
take for your friend the man whose dog doesn't
like to follow him.’ I don't know how far
its general estimate of character can be de-
pended upon, but the subtle instinct of a cat in
recognizing its friends is most remarkable.
The dog will follow and fawn upon the master
who beats him. The cat will lavish its caresses
only on one who treats it tenderly. I believe
the cat to be equal in intelligence, sagacity and
moral qualities to either the horse or the dog.”
“How can you say so,” exclaimed a young
girl who sat near the speaker. Why a cat is
a horrid creature, treacherous, thieving, sly,
selfish ; I can't think of bad names enough to
give a cat.”
“That is simply because you are not ac-
quainted with cats,” my dear, was the mild
reply. “You do not understand them.”
“I am sure, nothing on earth would induce
me to have a cat in my house, or even to touch
one with a pair of tongs,” she said.
“I am sorry you have such a prejudice
against this lovable little creature. I think,
however, if you should chance to live in the
house with a pair of frolicsome kittens a single
week, they would overcome it entirely. It is
very curious that evil associations and super-
stitious fears relating to the cat, cling so per-
I 2.2 AſO/C A/Z'Y',S SAA. A.
sistently to the mind in these enlightened days;
yet, in time, puss will live down her bad name.
You say that the cat is selfish. 'Tis true
that she loves her home, but she loves her
friends none the less, and her devotion to her
offspring is almost human in its intensity. She
loves a cozy corner and a soft cushion. So do
you and I. I know a cat that returned to her
old home from a place twenty-six miles distant,
and two rivers to cross on the way. She made
the journey in three weeks. Though little
more than the ghost of a cat when she arrived,
she was so fortunate as to find a friend who
thought that what there was left of her, was
worth saving. There is perhaps no other
domestic animal so fitted by nature to enjoys
luxurious surroundings as the cat. And where
will you find a more wretched animal than an
ill-treated, homeless cat; one that has no friend
to depend upon for food or a kind word 2
George Eliot said: ‘I have all my life had a
sympathy for mongrel, ungainly dogs that
were nobody's pets, and I would rather surprise
one of them by a pat and a pleasant morsel,
than to meet the most condescending advances
of the loveliest sky terrier which has his
cushion by my lady's chair.’ I have the same
kind of sympathy for homeless cats.

AſOA” A/Z'Y',S SAATA. I 23

º
-
*
You say the cat is a thief. Who blames a
starving creature for stealing a morsel of food.
Perhaps you and I would do the same thing.
A pet cat, turned out of house and home to
starve, or get a living as she can while her
friends (?) are enjoying life at the mountains or
the sea, is even a more piteous object than one
that has never known a comfortable home and
plenty of food. Let me read to you a paragraph
on this subject written by a well known New
York woman who comes bravely to the defence
of maltreated animals : -
‘The English language compasses no word
strong enough to express the indignation and con-
tempt one feels towards people who, having made
(pets of these innocent creatures, cruelly turn them
-
-
out to starve when they tire of them or wish to go
out of town for the season. Walk through the
resident streets during the summer, and you will
see thousands of forsaken and deserted cats act-
ually made insane through starvation and ill-usage.
Sometimes, thinking of these frantic little creatures
and the quaint skeletons of beaten horses, I ques-
tion the meaning of that mercy and care we attrib-
ute to an overruling Providence. We are early
taught to believe that God notes even the Sparrow
in its fall. If this is true, how can He look upon
this sinful neglect and worse than horrible abuse
without a cure for it * *
This is pretty strong language, but it stirs
--
-
º
º,
º
I24 A'O/C A/Z'Y',S SAATA2.
one's wrath to the dregs to see such abuse of
God's creatures by people who call themselves
Christians. Inhuman deeds may justly arouse
all the contempt one is capable of feeling
towards the perpetrators, even if they do not
shake one's faith in an over-ruling justice and
mercy.
I lived one winter in the city where there
was a vacant house opposite. I soon found
that a vagrant cat had taken up her abode in
the back yard, where she could get under
cover through a broken board in an out-build-
ing. She was too thin to cast a shadow, and
the sad expression of her face showed plainly
as words could have told it, that this was a cold
world for her. You smile * Did you never.
notice the difference between the facial ex-
pression of a sleek well-provided-for puss
whose social position is well established, and
that of a starved, care-worn outcast 2 I carried
food to my hungry neighbor at once, but found
her so shy that I left it on the ground with-
out trying to make her acquaintance. When
I went again she met me at the gate. She
knew that I was her friend. I continued to go
every evening at twilight and always found her
listening for my footsteps ; waiting for her
supper; yet she never failed to purr her grati-


A'OA2 A3/7')/ ?,S SAATA. I25

tude before she began to eat. One evening as
she stood over the food making a low peculiar
cry, out crawled through the hole in the shed,
one, two, three, four, as wretched looking small
cats as I ever saw. They bore no resemblance
to the fluffy beauties that chase the spools,
grow wild over a string, and perform such
laughable antics in a well ordered home. It
was evidently the first journey of the kit-
tens out into the world. All was strange to
them, but taught by hunger, they began to lap
up the milk like famished creatures. The
mother walked off quietly and sat down, back
to them, some eight or ten feet away. She re-
fused to touch a morsel. She would not allow
herself to look at, or to smell the food, for
fear, I suppose, that she might be tempted to
break her resolution. Do you say the cat is
selfish 2 I call that a self-sacrifice that would
be heroic in a human mother. You may be
sure, however, that she did not go supperless
to bed. I fed that cat family as long as I lived
in the neighborhood ; and when I moved
away, - it was a terribly hard thing to do but
I knew it was kind, - I had them all mercifully
killed. I should not have slept nights if I had
left the poor things hungry and friendless, to
watch for my coming until they starved.
º “ZZ is ampossible for even the most disci//imed spirit
not to yearn over these little ſurry darlings, these gen
ºmischievous, lazy, irresistible things.”
º
º
AGNES REPPLIER:
º
º
“We should remember in our dealings with animals
Zhat they are a sacred frust to its from our Heavenly
Father. They are dumb and cannot speak for themselves.
They cannot ea/ſain their wants or justify their conduct;
azid ſherefore we shoºt/d Öe fender Zoward's Zhem.”
HARRIET BEECHER STowe.
“Z believe that the urgent /roſest against vivisection
which marks our immediate day, and the whole flea for
/essening the miseries of anima/s as endured at the hand's
of men, constitute the “neart' great moral guestion which
is to be put to the intelligent conscience, and that only the
educated conscience can properly refly to it.” -
ELIZABETH STUART PHELPS.


A.O.A.’ A/Z'Y',S SAATA2. I27
Another time, I was boarding at a hotel in
the country. The ladies were sitting on the
piazza one morning after breakfast, when a
little starved kitten came out from under the
shrubbery and looked up at us with pleading
eyes, although it made not a sound. I ran in
to the breakfast table we had just left and
brought out a saucer of milk. ‘What l’ cried a
lady, “are you going to feed that nasty little
cat 2 she will keep coming here all the time if
you do.’ ‘Yes,’ said I, that is just what I
want her to do. If you and I were starving,
shouldn't we be glad to find some one who
would feed us ' ' The kitten came again and
again, surprising those who knew nothing of cat
nature by coming directly to me, even though
the piazza was crowded. After she had be-
come well nourished, and grown strong enough
to groom herself with care as these dainty little
creatures delight to do, we discovered that she
was a rarely beautiful tiger, well-bred, and an
ornament to any home. She was soon every-
body's pet, but when so popular as to be in
constant demand she never turned a cold shoul-
der upon her first friend.
I called her Tiddle-de-Winks, and took her
home with me at the end of the season, be-
cause she was so devoted to me that I thought


128 AſO/C A/7"Y”.S. SAA E.
it cruel to leave her. She became the mother
of a numerous family. Handsomer, brighter,
saucier small-cats never lived. One of her
kittens when very small ran up an elm tree.
It turned several times as if to come down,
but coming back, head downward, was too much
for even the courage of a Winks. It knew no
other way, so the active little thing kept mov-
ing on and up, until, thoroughly frightened,
down it sat and cried. I could not aid it, but
it occurred to me that the mother-cat might be
equal to the occasion. Tiddle-de-Winks came
at my call ; at once understood the predicament
her beloved offspring was in, and went up the
tree in a twinkling. She stayed by the little
One a moment; whispered encouragingly in its
ear; then backed slowly down the tree to the
ground. Her object lesson took immediate ef-
fect. The infant, following its wise mother's
example, came carefully down, and when safe
On the ground, they gave expression to their
joy in a rough-and-tumble frolic. The Winks
family furnished entertainment for our own
household and to our friends for several years.
For intelligence, affection and fidelity, Tiddle-
de-Winks and her children were equal to any
dogs I have ever known.
Many people who keep cats know nothing of
AWOAC A/7'Y'S SAAT/E. I 29
their needs or their nature. They need shelter-
ing, kind treatment, and food. A lady who once
saw me give a cup of water to a cat, exclaimed
in surprise, ‘I didn't know that cats drank
water.' What on earth did she think they
drank Isn't water provided by Nature for
all thirsty animals Cats often suffer for the
want of it. Water should always be kept
where they, as well as dogs, can help them-
selves when they need it. A friend of mine
who had a domestic fresh from a far-away
country, told her, as she was clearing the table
for the first time, not to forget to give Kitty a
good breakfast. Half an hour later, when the
lady went into the kitchen, she was greeted
with, ‘Sure Ma'am, I gave the cat a good
breakfast, but he's not hungry.’ A large plate
with five or six huge baked apples on it that
stood on the hearth, and a disgusted mieouw
from Kitty, told why he had so suddenly lost
his appetite. In that case, Kitty didn't go
hungry, though he wasn't fond of baked ap-
ples. It is surprising that many people who
take good care of other animals, neglect to
feed a cat or to provide for it any home Com-
forts. There are people in this world who are
so heartless that they can carry a helpless
little kitten away from its home, drop it in a
:
:
-

I3o AſO/C A/7"Y”.S. SAA E.
lonely place, and coolly desert it. The cries of
the starving thing do not reach their ears, so
they think no more about it. Sympathy must
have been left out, in the making up of such
natures. One who will have a pet of any kind
and not either take proper care of it or merci-
fully kill it, ‘I would not enter on my list of
friends.’ The cat is a timid, highly organized,
sensitive creature. Its brain, it is said, so
nearly resembles the human brain that the
difference, in matter, is scarcely perceptible.
The delicate, beautiful structure of the cat is
its misfortune. I pray that our country may
yet lead the world in protecting all living be-
ings, by /egislation, from the terrible sufferings
inflicted upon them by what is called ‘science.”
I am going to read to you a good thing
sent me by a friend in New York City, who is
a fearless defender of all abused dumb animals,
and a special friend of poor puss. It gives a
striking proof of the refining influence of
humane teaching, in most unpromising cir-
cumstances. This article, clipped from a New
York daily, is a report of one of New York
City's industrial schools, written in a serio-
comic vein by Nell Nelson.

A’OA’ A/7'Y',S SAATAE. I3 I
f “THE CATS’ AID SOCIETY.”
*IT HAs SAVED MANY SPRING KITTENS PROM -
UNTIMELY DEATHS. -
i
* EDUCATIONAL VALUE OF THIS NOVEL, AND
º NOBLE CHARITY.'
º
º
* “Fancy organizing a cats' aid society as a means
of governing a ragged school This very thing has
been done by the gentle-woman who superintends
the East River Industrial School. The results
have been two-fold, viz: the salvation of scores of
spring kittens and superannuated Toms and Tab-
bies, and the civilization of hundreds of brave and
blood-thirsty little boys and girls. The school and
the New York slaughter-houses are in the same
street. Surroundings have much to do with the
formation of a child’s character, and the greatest
effort on the part of the teachers was needed to
resist the unconscious influence of the neighboring
butchers. Some of the kindergarten attacks made
on captured pussies and grocery chickens would
make a Russian weep. The little girls were as
cruel as their brothers, and many atrocious deeds
are charged to their account.
Few of the plagues that visit the city overlook
this district. Typhus Fever broke out and the
school was closed. This threw some five or six
hundred homeless and crippled boys and industrial
school scholars, less than twelve and more than
three years of age, on the community. The boys
found shelter where they could, and the children

I32 APO/C A/7"Y”.S. SAATA2.
roamed the streets in search of something to kill.
On March first they returned to school thirsting
for blood. It was then that the superintendent in-
troduced the subject of cats, dilated on their mis-
fortunes, extolled their virtues, enlisted the sympa-
thy of the whole school and formed the “Cats' Aid
Society’ with three hundred charter members.
These youngsters pledged themselves “never again
to shoot, stone or abuse the cats,” and to do all in
their power “to save the poor creatures from
cruelty and oppression.” Committees were ap-
pointed to solicit donations of cats' ineat and catnip,
and to find “good homes among kind people for
orphan pussies and respectable old cats.” Each
member constituted a Rescue Committee and was
made responsible for the comfort and safety of any
cat that might cross his or her path.
The superintendent builded better than she knew.
The very next day she had a cats' asylum to look
after. The feline vagrants were lame, blind,
scalded, and generally disreputable. It would have
been merciful to administer ether, but the object
was social reform, and the unfortunate animals
were allowed to live. Milk was served all round;
one broken leg was put in a splint; a jacket of
liniment and cotton was made for a singed yellow
cat ; cot beds were placed about the steam coils,
and the patients had the freedom of the class room.
A penny collection was taken up, to which only
teachers, and boys and girls in business, were al-
lowed to subscribe. Every day a fresh lot of out-


A’OA’ AZZ"Y’,S SAA E. I33
casts were rescued. The recruits of Monday came
to be dreaded by the founder of the Society, on
account of their numbers, condition and appetites.
But not one applicant was repulsed. At recess the
children taught the convalescent orphans to do
tricks, and lead good and useful lives. By way of
encouragement blue ribbons were bestowed. When
a cat became well and strong enough to keep his
fur coat in order, and showed skill as a “ratter a
purchaser was found and the price turned into the
treasury.
Up to date, homes have been found for fifty-two
worthy and reliable cats. There are thirty-nine
cents in the treasury, and not one forlorn cat in the
neighborhood. The girls in the East River School
are as gentle as doves, and the boys are as chari-
table as good Samaritans. The superintendent is
more than satisfied with the moral influence of the
Cats'. Aid Society.’ -
Who, that reads this, can ever say one word
in favor of dissection in public schools, with its
train of demoralizing and debasing influences 2
Children may become so hardened by famili-
arity with cruelty, that they lose their last
spark of human kindness; and on the other
hand, they can be easily taught to love and
care for all the little people of the woods and
fields; to treat with kindness the forsaken cat
and the neglected dog; to give food rather than
a stone; and not to be ashamed to bravely


I34 A'OA” AZZ"Y’,S S.A.A.A.
stand by and protect a poor abused creature
that cannot defend itself. That brave little
gentle-woman of the ragged school gave an
object lesson which demonstrated the uplifting
influence of humane teaching, as pages of words
could not have done. -
I often have letters from this New York
friend that are filled with interesting bits of
her own experience. She knows how to go
through the world with her eyes open. When
riding in the elevated one day, her attention
was drawn to two sportsmen, who were telling
each other their adventures in the Adirondacks.
One of them, who said he used to be called a
crack shot, told some wonderful exploits at
pigeon shooting, but added “I have given up all
such things now. The last time I went into
the forest I shot a fine doe. Just after she fell,
a beautiful little spotted fawn ran out of the
bushes and piteously tried to nurse its dead
mother. That was too much for me. My God |
I said, I will never again shoot at anything that
hasn't the power to shoot back,- and I never
have.’ My friend's comment was ‘It does one's
heart good to hear great rough men speak so
tenderly of helpless creatures.’
Our talks on dumb animals began with Mr.
Leigh's questions about a future life. I cannot

APOA’ A/7'Y',S SAAT/E. I35
look upon the innocent suffering in this world
without indulging in a hope so strong that it
is akin to belief, that there will be a future
where dumb creatures that have had a joyless
existence here will find recompense. It is said
that Professor Agassiz believed firmly in a here-
after for the lower orders of creation. John
Wesley said of dumb animals: ‘I fear to deny
that they have a future life.’ You remember
Martin Luther's letters to his little son, where
he drew such fascinating pictures of the pleas-
ures of good little boys in heaven. The wise
man, knowing how to make the heavenly fields
most attractive, did not forget to put a pony
there. Biographers tell us of the gentle St.
Francis, that his life was full of deeds of love
and charity to suffering humanity, and that his
tenderness to animals was one of his most
winning features.’ When he preached his
simple gospel to the birds, he must have be-
lieved that they had some share in the light
and hope that brighten the life of man. How
often we read between the lines of noble poems
the underlying thought, that the sufferings of
the brute creation will not be forgotten by
man's Redeemer; that there will yet be relief
for the whole creation that groaneth and tra-
vaileth in pain.

I36 A'OA’ A/Z'Y',S SAATA.
George MacDonald, in his lecture on ‘The
Hope of the Universe' avows his belief in the
doctrine of animal immortality. President
Angell, who has doubtless done as much for
the benefit of dumb animals as any man living,
says, “I don't know anything about it ; but
from the trend of the passages of Scripture
quoted so fluently in one of his addresses, it is
easy enough to see what he thinks about it.
Many celebrated divines have declared their
faith in this doctrine. I have seen it stated
that this belief is held by, at least, one half of
the human race. º
º I read not long ago in a copy of “Our Dumb
#Animals’ the pretty legend of the old Indian
ſ and his dog travelling together to the happy.
g hunting-grounds. By the way, that little
- paper, or “Our Animal Friends’ ought to be:
in every family in the land. One cannot
glance over a copy of either, without laugh.
. - - º
ing, crying, scolding, and devoutly thanking
--
s Heaven that dumb creatures have such
-
-
---
-
brave good friends. But to the legend. The
old chief and all his family set out for Paradise,
the happy place of rest, beyond the mountains
and the river. They journeyed on and on,
across dreary deserts and over mountains
through drifting snow. As the way grew more



AſOA” A/7').”.S. SAA. A. I37
rugged his people became disheartened, and
one by one, they sadly turned their faces home-
ward. First, the old chief's wife left him.
Then his son's courage failed and he followed
his mother. The faithful dog looked after them
whining piteously, but went on with his master.
The servants next gave way in despair and
begged their chief to return. But the old man,
thinking he could see the ‘pearly gates of the
Golden City’ in the bright rays of the setting
sun, determined to struggle on alone. The
dog looked with mournful eyes into his mas-
ter's face, but refused to leave him. Day after
day they trudged along the rough way, foot-
sore, hungry and weary. When within sight of
the heavenly city, the brave old man sank
down, overcome by cold and fatigue. The dog
would not let him perish. He licked his face
and hands, nestled close to him and kept the
warmth in his feeble body, constantly making
sharp cries to arouse him. The chief awoke,
and again stumbling on, the pair soon reached
the gate of Paradise. He knocked and begged
to be allowed to enter, together with his faith-
ful dog. St. Peter answered, ‘No dogs are
admitted here. You may come in, but he must
be left outside.’ In vain the old chief begged
and pleaded. The answer was the same. ‘The


138 APO/C A/TV’.S. SAATA.

dog must remain without.’ ‘Then I will stay
with him,' cried the Indian. “I will be as true
to him as he has been to me. I will not desert
him, even for Paradise.”
The chieftain turned to go, looking down to
his faithful companion, his hand outstretched
to pat him lovingly ; but lo! there was no dog
there. In his place stood a glorious, shining
being with great wistful eyes full of love and
pity. A sweet voice said, ‘I was your guardian
angel. If you had not been true to me I could
never have guided you through that weary
journey to this blissful end. Now we will go
within these gates and be happy forever.’ The
pearly gates were thrown open wide, and the
white-winged being triumphantly led the old
Indian into the Golden City.”
There was silence for a moment at the close
of this pathetic little story, and to some of us
the pearly gates seemed not so very far away,
as we saw in imagination the uncouth figure of
the weary old Indian with his shining com-
panion passing through their portals. A little
rustle, a long breath or two followed the hush.
Miss Kate, then turning to a young man who
had been a quiet earnest listener, said, “Aren't
we going to hear from you Mr. Turner How
can you sit all this time without speaking a

AO/C A/7"V’.S. SAATA. I39
word * We shall be disappointed if we don't
have a few valuable points from you.”
THE BANKER’s POINTs.

“You have heard the story of the old coun-
try-woman, who, after the death of her
husband, was asked by a condoling neighbor if
he was reconciled to going. ‘Reconciled !’
she answered in a surprised tone, ‘Why He
was obleeged to go — he was obleeged to l'
I have been “obleeged ' to keep silence, for you
haven’t given me a chance to get in a word
edge-wise. Now that I have the floor, I will
gladly give a few points on the care of some of
the unhappy creatures that you have, thus far,
Overlooked. How about cows, calves, oxen,
sheep, mules, caged birds, and all the little wild
things that naughty boys capture and keep in
wretched confinement 2 You are not going to
talk all night and give them the go-by, are
you? I have seen, this summer in this goodly
town, cows and calves tethered out all day long
in the burning sun where the heat was intoler-
able. Everybody ought to know that all bovine
brutes love the shade at noon-day, and need it,
too, as much as the two-legged brutes who
leave them tied out to suffer, while they have a
pipe or a nap on the cool corner of the porch.
I4O AſOA’ A/Z'Y',S S.A.A.A.
We buy the heated, unhealthful milk of these
exhausted creatures for our children to drink.
Milk is so sweet and pure in the country you
know 2 Perhaps, if people who treat their cows
so, knew that they would get more milk and
richer cream by making the creatures com-
fortable with plenty of shade and water, they
would not be so thoughtless. Sometimes,
hearts can be touched through the pocket
when all other avenues are closed.
Then in winter, go into old-fashioned country
barns. Look at the long rows of cattle stand-
ing patient and spiritless, each head cruelly
fixed in a vice; the creatures huddled so closely
together, that when lying down, the space al-
lowed them is all too narrow and too short for
comfort. Watch them, as with heads fast in
the stanchions they try to lie down, or make
frantic struggles to get upon their feet, and tell
me: What has civilization done for cows 2 The
comfort and health of these mild-eyed, milk-
giving animals so indispensable to us, should
be guarded by the laws of our land with as
much care as foreign potentates give to the
nurses of royal children.
I lived on a farm when I was a boy, and I
think I could drive an ox team through Wall
Street to-day. Not long ago, a man went past


APOA’ A/7'Y',S SAATA2. I4 I
here with two yoke of oxen hitched to a heavy
load of wood. He walked beside the leaders,
every now and then, goading them with his
brad or swinging the lash right across their
faces. All the time, the leaders were drawing
the entire load and nearly pulling the yoke
over the heads of the slower walkers behind.
I wanted to thrash the brute, – the driver I
mean, not one of the patient toilers that he
called brutes. It is downright cruelty to com-
pel oxen to draw heavy loads up hill, or to hold
them back when going down, with no help
whatever from modern contrivances. In some
places they are driven sensibly, in strong leather
harnesses. The yoke used to-day is made
after the same pattern as the one used by Job ;
at any rate, that hasn't been greatly improved
upon. Some scientific observer has said that
the yoke puts the strain on a spot never in-
tended for it by nature. The intentions of
nature are too often ignored by man to his own
disadvantage. -
I am glad that the horrible fashion of de-
horning cattle doesn't prevail in this region.
'Tis passing strange that a practice so inhuman
can prevail anywhere in a civilized land. Did
the Creator make a blunder when he provided
horns In some places, great herds of these

I 42 APO/C A/7"Y”.S. SAATA.
creatures are driven, one at a time, into a
modern torture-chamber and securely fastened.
The horns are then sawed off, like sticks of
dead wood, with a common saw. Sometimes,
the poor beasts are so maddened by the pain
that they stumble blindly over each other in
their agony. Sometimes, vermin infest the
wounds and death follows ; but a few deaths
don't count, among so many thousands that re-
cover. It is still thought very important that
horns should be removed, no note being taken
of the needless suffering caused by this cruel
treatment. No doubt, in time, Legislatures
will put a stop to this harsh practice. The
rights of dumb animals will yet be considered,
although progress in that direction is discour-
agingly slow. The suffering of cattle in trans-
portation both by sea and land ; the agonies
the helpless creatures endure from cold, hun-
ger and thirst in winter on the plains, their
poor bodies torn by barbed wire fences; –Oh !
the amount of this wholesale distress is be-
yond exaggeration | One would think that the
wail of it would move our country's law-makers
to devise some means of relief. The same
thing goes on at the great sheep ranches, hun-
dreds of thousands dying in a single winter
from starvation and cold.


AWOAC A/Z'Y',S SAAT/E. I43.
The pig is an animal that has far more in-
telligence than it gets credit for. I have heard
professional trainers say that pigs can be
taught quite as easily as dogs. Pigs are every-
where abused by being kept in cold, wet pens,
and fed with refuse that should be given to no
creature, certainly not to one that is designed
for food in its turn. Pigs enjoy a warm bed
and plenty of clean straw. When they wallow
in the mire it is usually because it is the only
thing provided for them to wallow in. It is a
fact, that in country towns, hogs are slaugh-
tered in a most atrocious manner. 7%at is a
matter which should everywhere be regulated
by proper authorities.
Now I come to the mule. You laugh ' Why
does everybody laugh at the mule 2 I know he
isn't handsome, and sometimes, as the little
boy said of his pony, He is tame in front, and
wild behind.’ A part of Charles Dudley
Warner's description of the camel well fits the
mule. For skin, he has patches of old buffalo
robes, faded and with the hair worn off. His
tail is a ridiculous wisp, a failure as an orna-
ment or a fly brush.” The world is however
deeply in debt to this vilified animal and very
unwilling to give him the credit that is his just
due. Now that southern negroes are acquiring
I44. A'O/C A/Z'Y',S S.A.A.A.
property, it is a poor negro who cannot own a
mule. God pity the mule ! underfed, over-
worked, jerked about and belabored : What
chance does the creature have to grow beautiful
or saintly I was in a southern city last
winter when mule power on the street cars was
changed for modern motive power, and I never
after, saw a car go past without mentally say-
ing, “Thank God!” I knew one mule there that
was a wonder. He was an extra, used to
help draw the cars up a steep incline and over
a bridge. No one seemed to have him in
charge. When cars were coming thick and
fast he trotted briskly down the slope to meet
them. When no car was in sight he walked
leisurely on enjoying his freedom. He at-
tended to the whole business himself except
hitching and unhitching, managed his affairs
with so much ability and performed his duties
so faithfully, that he glorified his whole race of
mules. I wonder where the poor fellow is, now
his occupation is gone.
I knew another wise mule; he saved three
precious lives by refusing to ford a Florida
river. He could neither be induced nor com-
pelled to set foot into the stream. The little
party was obliged to give up the day's outing
on the other side, and return home with




AO/C A/Z'Y’.S. SAAT/2. I45
colors trailing. Tim got an extra measure of
corn when it became known that his ob-
stinacy, (?) in refusing to cross a dangerously
swollen ford, had saved himself and his best
friends from a watery grave. This same Tim
had been used to haul lumber before being pro-
moted to the dignity of a family mule. One
day the force of habit got the better of his
common sense in a funny way. He was jog-
ging along with his family behind him, when,
Suddenly pricking up his ears, he started off at
a brisk pace from no apparent cause. While
they wondered what queer notion had got into
Tim's head, he turned aside into the pine
Woods, and, deftly wheeling about, backed them
up against a pile of lumber. He stood still a
moment, then looked back reprovingly as if to
Say, ‘You Ought to be loading lumber instead
of sitting there laughing.’
Another familiar object that is not half so
black as it is painted is the crow. Every man's
hand is against him, and he would have been
wiped off the face of the earth long ago if his
wits hadn't saved him. He succeeds in helping
himself to what he wants, in the face of scare-
Crows and all the devices to entrap him, which
Only make him the more suspicious and alert.
It would be hard to find a wiser bird than the
I46 AO/C A/Z"Y”.S. SAATA2.
crow. I think the farmers will yet learn that it
pays better to share the crops with the crows,
than to leave the whole to the tender mercies
of the pests that these birds destroy. The
crow is an insect destroyer of the first magni-
tude, though he makes no secret of the fact
that he is fond of corn. If man should succeed
in exterminating the race, he would soon see
the folly of it. Birds are man's natural allies,
from the dainty little wood-pecker to the great
carrion-eater, and man does himself good ser-
vice when he protects them. In fact, man
does himself good service when he makes any
of the lower creatures his friends.
Love and kind treatment will win almost
any animal under the sun. Rosa Bonheur says,
“If you want animals to love you, you must
love them.” Look at her, with a whole
|
" - - - . -
menagerie trooping after her every time she |
goes out to walk at Fontainebleau, and you will
believe that she has proved her own recipe.
The story of the lioness, that died in her arms - !
at the foot of the stair-case at Pau, is most
touching. The great creature, using the last
remnant of its waning strength to lick the dear
hand of its mistress, gives an illustration with-
out a parallel, of the power of love on the
brute creation. It is something to be proud of
-



AO/C A/7"V’.S. SAATA. I47
to be loved by a lion. I should like to have
one for a pet. There is no comfort in looking
at the creatures in a menagerie, or a zoo.
There is something too pitiful and pathetic for
pleasure, in the sight of splendid great wild
beasts behind the bars of cages in which they
can scarcely turn round, when we know that
their natures demand a mountain side for a
single leap. Then think of the elephants that
are chained by the legs all through the long
winter. To be sure, they can lie down and get
up. They can sway their huge bodies, to and
fro, in a restless agony. It is all too much for
me. We have to shut our eyes to many things
that we cannot relieve.
I have a word to say about caged birds.
From the king of the forest to a canary, you
may think is firing wild, but you know the
poet Says —
- ‘He prayeth best who loveth most
All things both great and small,
For the dear God who loveth us,
He made and loveth all.”
Caged birds are about as helpless innocents as
can be found anywhere. It is surprising
that so many people forget to feed and water
them. They will sing, without a seed or a drop
of water, as long as there is breath enough in
I48 A'O/C A/Z'Y',S SAATA2.
their little bodies to make a sound. Perhaps
the poor things try to call attention to their
wants in that way. I was a great bird-fancier
when I was young, and now, when I see a bird-
cage, I go straight to it from force of early
habit. You would hardly believe me were I to
tell you how often I find the little prisoners
without a morsel of food or a drop to drink.
People who can’t take proper care of birds
might, at least, open the door and give them
their liberty. Every mother's son who cages a
wild bird should be compelled to do so.
I am sorry to say it, — but I believe that
boys are born cruel. It may be that a remnant
of savagery inherited from far-away ancestors
crops out in the youth of to-day, and it is left
for environment to perfect their civilization.
At any rate, one can't begin too early to fan the
little spark of human kindness that may be in a
boy's heart, or to kindle one there, in case of
utter dearth. You know Dr. Holmes said that
to produce a perfect man you must begin a
hundred years before he is born. If we wish,
in the course of two or three generations, to
perfect in man that higher nature, that finer
feeling which shows itself in kindness to all
living things, now is the time to begin vigor-
ously with the children of to-day. Heroic treat-



A'OA2 /2/Z'Y',S S.A.A.A. I49
ment sometimes works well. I know one small
boy who got pinched, himself, every time he
pinched the cat. It had the desired effect in
/..is case, though I would, by no means, recom-
mend that plan on general principles.
One morning on my way to the station, I
came upon three or four little ragamuffins mak-
ing ready to throw stones at a harmless toad.
I felt like throwing stones at them ; but, con-
trolling my desire for vengeance on the spot,
I took the toad and carried it away, after giving
the boys a lesson they'll not soon forget.
Another morning, I saw four full-grown school-
boys tormenting one small kitten. I took
the kitten as I did the toad ; after telling the
boys that if they should live to become men
they would be ashamed of themselves. I am
glad to say that they looked a bit ashamed be-
fore I left them. If those boys had been
taught, at home and in school, to protect the
harmless little creatures that cross their path ;
if their true relations to animal life had been
made plain to them ; I believe they would never
have stooped to such meanness. I haven't said
a word about horses; but there are few things
that make me more righteously wrathy than to
see a man trying to back a horse by yanking at
his mouth, pulling his head back on One side,
I5o APO AE A/Z"Y”.S. SAA E.
doubling his body up like a hoop ; thus destroy-
ing the creature's power to back the load, and
causing him such physical pain that he forgets
what was required of him. A little time, and
Some patient kindness, is necessary to teach a
horse to back, at the word ; but it is well worth
while. His strength can then be saved for the
labor, and need not be worried out of him in
the stupid way it is so often done. Another
thing : Horses are often run down in health
and strength because their teeth are in such
condition that they cannot eat. Their teeth
should be well cared for, – not by a blunderer,
but by a skilled veterinary. Horse dentistry is
a profession not yet over crowded.
So many points come to my mind — I don't
know when to stop talking. Think of the bar-
barism displayed in the killing of seals; those
soft-eyed innocents with half-human faces !
Think of the sports, of the lords of creation ; of
all the killing for fun, that is going on among
them | And last, – and worst of all; the
atrocious cruelties that are practiced in secret
places, – in the name of science
Will some one please change the subject 2"
“What did you do with your toad, Mr.
Turner P’’ asked one.
“I dropped him over a fence into a flower

AſO/C A/7"Y”.S. SAATA. I5 I
garden. I would pay a man to put toads into
my garden. They wage constant warfare on
slugs and worms, attend steadily to business
and work for nothing. The toad is very use-
ful, although not remarkably brilliant. He
may lack intelligence, as a writer in “Our Ani-
mal Friends’ says, “simply because he comes
from a long line of uneducated ancestors.’”
“And what became of your kitten ?”
“I noticed, when I drew near the next house,
that the thing wanted to get away, so I went to
the door and rang the bell. A pretty little girl
answered my call, and by the way she cuddled
up her treasure, and from the size of the small
cat's purr, I knew that I need give myself no
further trouble about that cat. She thanked
me heartily for rescuing it and said she wished
boys wouldn't be such savages.”
“This is quite a new phase in your character
Mr. Turner, I had no idea that you were so
practical a philanthropist,” said a lady smiling.
“I don’t make much fuss about it’’ replied
Mr. Turner, “but I seldom let a chance go by
to help out the under dog. I beg your pardon
for talking so long. Let us hear from you, Mr.
Horton.”
“I was thinking up something to say when
you began,” answered Mr. Horton, a benevolent

I52 A'OAC A/7'Y',S SAATA2.
looking gentleman with a long white beard, and
a glory of white hair upon his head. “But,
to tell you the truth, Mr. Turner, I am
struck dumb. I supposed the only animals you
knew anything about, were bulls and bears.
Here you have run through the whole gamut
of creation from the leviathan to a microbe,
and you are equally at home with them all. I'll
not attempt to tell what I know about farming,
but after you have talked yourselves out, I will
read a few newspaper clippings that I have in
my pocket.”
“Mr. Turner,” said a bright-eyed, pretty girl,
a pink flush suffusing her fair face as she spoke,
“I don’t think all boys are cruel. I know one
— a pretty big boy, too, - who wasn't ashamed
to pick up in the street a dirty, starved, half-
frozen little kitten and carry it home. He
told his mother that it looked up at him in such
a pitiful way, he couldn't pass by and leave it.
It shall have a warm supper and one good
night's rest, he said, and if we think best, I
will put an end to its miseries in the morning.
The poor thing looked up now and then, while
eating, as if to say: * This is something new, I
was never fed before.’ It went to sleep on a
soft cushion and slept so soundly, they thought
it must be dead. In the morning it was so

AO/C A/Z'Y”.S. SAATA2. I53
happy and grateful, - they hadn't the heart to
do anything but to give the kitty a new lease of
life, a life worth living, too. It is now as
handsome a cat as I ever saw. It has a velvety
coat, most beautifully marked They all say
that Tom attracts more attention than any
other member of the family. I don't think he
has forgotton how he was rescued on that cold,
stormy day, for he has always been perfectly
devoted to the good Samaritan who wouldn't
pass by and leave him to perish.”
With a graceful bow to the young lady, Mr.
Turner said, “Long may the handsome cat
live to disprove my sweeping assertion.”
Then, turning to Miss Kate, he added, “Here is
Mrs. Hale. A good whip as she is, must have
had adventures worth the telling. And please,
do not let Dr. Sampson off without a word.”
THE “ GOOD WHIP's '' STORY.
“Nothing at all thrilling, but such as I have
had I willingly give you. I lived, the first
eighteen years of my life, on a farm that bor-
dered on a country village. I was born a tom-
boy, and stood at the head of the tom-boy class
until I was sent away to school where I soon
found that many of my early accomplishments
counted little towards raising my standing. I
-

I54 APO/C A/7"Y”.S. SAATE.
Ought to be a good whip, for I cannot remem-
ber a time when I didn't ride and drive. My
father gave me my first lesson in horse-back
riding when I was a baby. How I loved the
glorious out-of-door life with the endless variety
of pleasures brought by the changing seasons.
I knew where to find the first downy catkins of
the pussy-willow that ventured out of their win-
ter hiding-places; the first twigs of red maple
that blossomed down by the babbling brook;
the first starry hepatica and dear little blue
eyed violet that lifted their heads from the
mossy bank ; and so on, through the long suc-
cession of nature's treasures, to the beautiful
fringed gentian in the meadow and the weird,
lone blossom of the witch-hazel in the wood.
“After dandelions, buttercups,
After buttercups, clover,
One blossom follows another
Over, and over, and over.
And the sweet satisfying green
Is round about them all;
First to be here in the spring-time,
Staying last in the fall.
Just as God’s love is first and last,
With human loves between
Successive blossoms which He sends
Through His all present green.’
My home was a rambling, old-fashioned, vine-


A'O/C A/Z'Y',S SAATA2. I55
covered farm-house, always full of merry boys
and girls and their pets. My mother was one
to whom all the neighbors came for help in
time of poverty, illness, or sorrow. No one
ever went away without relief and comfort.
My father was one of nature's noblemen. His
great, strong soul so full of tenderness that it
grieved him to see the least little creature suf-
fer. I remember how he watched and tended
a lamb with a broken leg as lovingly as if it
had been a little child. Dumb animals were
our playmates in childhood, and we grew up in
this atmosphere of kindness to all God's creat-
ures. We fed the birds in winter, in a box
fastened to a tree near the house. One winter
a red squirrel came with the birds every morn-
ing when not prevented by deep snow. It was
great fun to hear him scold at a blue-jay that
was not Over modest in claiming his share of
the good things in the box. The chickadees
hopped on our wrists and ate from our hands.
Crows alighted on a great boulder near by.
They paid well for the food they found there
by giving us a charming picture, framed in
one of our dining-room windows. We called
the horses and cows by name, and they came
at our call. Knowing no fear, expecting only
kindness, they were, as a rule, gentle and easily



I56 A’OAC A/Z'Y',S SAATA.
managed. One day, a new hired man came
hurrying to the house. Wiping the perspi-
ration from his face, he said, ‘I can't catch
that blamed pony no how — I’ve been chasin'
him round trying to drive him into the barn
for an hour. I’m fagged out, but he's as
good as new.’ ‘Perhaps one of the girls will
go out and help you,' my father said, with a
merry glance at me. I went with him, and,
standing in the open door of the barn, whistled
to the pony. Lifting his head at once, he
came flying towards the gate, almost tumbling
over himself in his haste to reach us. The
pony got his lump of sugar, and the man led
him away, muttering, ‘Great Caesar ! I never
see the likes o' that afore.” How it would
startle me, to see my own little girl riding a
pony without saddle or bridle; or driving him
across the field, holding on for dear life to the
end of his long tail. My pony must have
timed himself to favor my limitations, for I
never lost my hold on him, although I came in
almost breathless. One day, in a frolic, I led
the pony into the house. 7%at was vetoed,
when, a few days later, he was found with his
head in the china-closet helping himself to
apples. My pony was never shod. His neat
little hoofs were like vulcanised rubber. They
AO/C A/Z"Y'S S.A.A.A. 157

never cracked ; and a surer footed little beast
never lived.
When I was a mere child, we had a family
horse, that for Sagacity and sound common
sense I have never seen equalled. Old White-
face was known far and near, and my father's
confidence in her was everywhere remarked.
Our School was half a mile away, and on stormy
days White-face was often sent with us. After
putting us all into the carryall, my father, giv-
ing me the reins, would say, ‘Let them lie
loosely on her back, - don't pull them either
way — and before you get out, be sure to fast-
en them up, so they can't fall to the ground.’
The good creature always carried us safely to
the school-house door; then, turning about,
walked home in a most dignified way as if she
understood the responsibility of the situation.
I have known my father to send her home alone,
– a distance of ten miles. She could open all
the gates and let down all the bars on the
farm. She could open doors and feed-boxes;
yet she never got into trouble nor did any
harm. When there was a colt to be driven for
the first time, it was harnessed beside White-
face. She kept it straight and taught it how
to behave. Her cleverness was not the result
of training. It was simply horse-sense de

I58 AOAC A/Z'Y',S S.A.A.A.
veloped under kindly treatment. The good
creature grew to be old in our service, and,
when past her usefulness, was for a long time
tenderly cared for. Not until she was so in-
firm that life was a burden to her, was it merci-
fully ended.
Dear old White-face disappeared one day, -
and we asked no questions. Years afterward,
I was told that my father led her away alone,
and although it made the good man ill, he did
the deed himself, because he knew no one
whom he could trust to give her a painless
death.
You say I am a ‘good whip,' I very seldom
drive any horse but my own. I am well ac-
quainted with my Beauty. We understand
each other. He is full of spirit and fire, but
we get on famously together, although he
might easily do mischief in careless hands.
When I am out with him alone, I talk to him.
I know he understands much that I say. I
often tell him where to go, and he will go
directly to the spot without being guided at all.
One day, I was driving him down a steep hill.
I was in a light carryall, with two ladies on
the back seat. A nut came off and one of the
shafts dropped to the gound. That was a peri-
lous thing to happen. The carriage, swaying
AO/C A/7"Y'S S.A.A.A. 16,
from side to side, crowded upon Beauty, but he
stopped at my ‘whoa" and held it as well as he
could. I sprang out and stood by him while
the others went back to the nearest house for
help. The farmer who came to the rescue,
looking at the creature in amazement, said,
‘That's a mighty knowin' hoss youv'e got, —
most hosses would have smashed you into
kindlin' wood.’ ‘Yes,’ said I, ‘It was nothing
but his level head that saved us.
Again, I was driving him beside another
horse, to a heavy carriage, when the pole-strap
broke. He stopped at the word, and stood
still until the damage was repaired. He ofter
sees things that startle him, and a looker-on
might think an accident would happen. I
have only to tell him that it is all right. ſe
understands all right,’ and seems to trust it
perfectly. Once, he refused to cross a bridge.
Nothing would induce him to set foot upon it
until I got out, — stamped on the planks as if
trying their strength, got back into the buggy
telling him, as usual, that it was all right. He
was satisfied and trotted on without further
question.
Two girls who were here last summer, begged
me to let them take Beauty to drive out two or
three miles to do an errand. I consented
-º-

162 APO AE A/7').”.S. SAAT/E.
rather reluctantly They were driving along
slowly on a narrow road, wooded on one side,
a steep bank covered with stones on the other.
With no warning whatever, a large white dog
sprang over the wall from the wood with one
tremendous bound, landing in the middle of the
road almost under Beauty's nose. The horse
did exactly what any of us would have done,
— jumped, or rather, shied so sharply that over
went the buggy and out went the girls. One
was thrown upon the rocks and stunned by the
fall. The other fell to the ground, her head
lying between the wheels, so that a move of the
carriage either way might have been fatal to
her. The horse, alone, understood the situation
and knew how much depended on his standing
still. He did not lift a foot. Some men at
work in a distant field, seeing the accident,
ran as fast as they could to the spot. Their
account of Beauty's good behavior rang through
the town. The girls were pretty well shaken
up and somewhat bruised, although not serious-
ly hurt. Nothing was broken, in carriage or
harness, and the horse came home as quietly as
if nothing had happened.”
“Why didn't you whip him when he balked
at the bridge 2" asked one.
“Whip him l’’ cried Mrs. Hale, “indeed


A'O/C A/7"Y’.S. SAATA. I63
that is the last thing that would have entered
my head. Supposing you were afraid to cross
a bridge because you thought it unsafe. How
would you like to be whipped for it 2 All the
horse needed was to have me show him that
there was no danger. If my Beauty had been
roughly handled, whipped into submission,
knocked about with no regard for his feelings,
he wouldn't be the horse that he is to-day, by
any means. I don’t believe he would get
through a week without figuring in an accident,
and it would be a lively one. -
Kind masters make gentle horses. The best
horse trainers in the world are those who use
apples and sugar-lumps freely, rather than the
whip and loud words. Give a horse a bite of
green grass often, and he will follow you like a
dog. It is an insult to a horse to compel him
to eat old, dried up, last year's hay, week in and
week out, when fresh, juicy grass is plenty and
growing on purpose for him. The notion that
grass is harmful to horses is soon forgotten by
those who feed it freely. It is their natural
food and most horses need much more of it
than they get. There is no better rule to fol-
low in our treatment of the horse, than, Put
yourself in his place, and Do as you would be
done by.”






I64 A'O/C A/7')/ 'S SAAT/E.
MR. HORTON'S CLIPPINGS.
STARVING, FREEZING, CATTLE.
“A correspondent of the Milwaukee Sentinel
tells this pitiful tale of what he saw in going from
Wisconsin to California :
“Before reaching Kinsley, and between Kinsley
and La Junta, the fields were literally covered with
dead and dying cattle. The uncommon cold in
Colorado had caused them to go south.
Reaching the Sante Fe road, their further pro-
gress was barred by wire fences, but could they
have passed this, the Arkansas river, which is
partly frozen, would have prevented them from
reaching any more southern point. Freezing, and
without food, there was nothing for them to do but
to wait for death. Their lips were frozen and they
were unable to eat the bits of grass that were above
the Snow. It was the most pitiful sight, I trust,
that I shall ever be obliged to witness. It was es-
timated that one hundred thousand were in sight
from the car windows; and when to this number is
added the almost countless herds between the Ar-
kansas river and northern Colorado, the amount
of suffering is beyond human computation. Many
lay under the wire fences dead, having pushed
their way as far south as possible. Little calves
leaned against the wires with no strength to release
themselves from the cruel barbs, -waiting for
death. At Dodge City, where we were detained by
a wrecked car, the starving creatures were walking
AWO/C A/Z'Y',S SAA E. I65
through the town, or standing with their mute ap-
pealing eyes turned toward the people, who were
powerless to help. The white snow that covered
their bodies was the only touch of mercy that we
saw. Some of them were Texan cattle, wholly un-
fit for northern climates unless, sheltered and fed
when necessary.
I wonder if cattle owners could have taken that
ride, made solemn by the suffering of helplessness,
whether their hearts would have been stirred with
pity. Whether they would have resolved that
henceforth they would own no more cattle than
they could protect from cold and starvation.
Surely the moans of the cattle upon the thousand
western hills ascend unto the ear of the Almighty.
Thirteen hundred sheep lay in one pile, – dead, -
frozen to death.”
ABOUT POOR PUSS.
“The time is the Spring. Here is a house that
has been dismantled for the season. The last load
has been sent off on the van, the last trunk packed
and thrown on the cab, the door is locked, and the
family are off with hearts and heads full of the free-
dom, and beauty, and rest lying before them. źf
one Žoor /i///e hearſ is ſºft behind. A pretty little
purring thing, a little dependent, has been thrown
upon the cold world ! Her friends have departed—
her own door is closed against her. What does
she do when she discovers the dreadful truth that
she is deserted I have known a cat thus deprived



I66 A'OAC A/7'Y”,S SAATA.
of its home to stay about for weeks and months,
each day coming back to ask why she is so cruelly
treated, each day growing dirtier and hungrier,
more hopeless, unkempt and savage, until finally
with temper ruined, manners noisy and rude, coat
all ugly with dirt and scratches, she has become a
wretched, unhappy, street cat.
One of these poor creatures I found when I came
home last autumn. She was ill, starving, half
blind from disease; but I put an end to her suffer-
ing with chloroform as soon as I could catch her ;
and Oh the pity of it ! I found, in making friends
with her preparatory to my treacherous deed,
that she had been somebody's pet for she was
tame and affectionate as soon as she heard a
friendly voice and recognized a friendly hand.
Year after year this thing happens, and it will
repeat itself this year, and every year to come, un-
til we give thought and take pains that this thing
shall not go on.
Then do not leave a creature to starve in the
streets, or in your back-yard — whether it is your
own, or a poor stray thing that comes under your
notice. If you cannot provide it with a home, send
a line to the S. P. C. A. saying where it may be
found; and they will send an agent who will merci-
fully end its life.
If we have allowed the ills of pain and hunger,
and homelessness to come upon a helpless Creature,
and cannot bring it back to a happy existence,
surely we owe it, at least, a merciful death. Does

APOA” A/7')^*.S. SAA. A. - 167
it seem an insignificant subject for such serious
thought? I cannot think so, nor, that weakness
and suffering, wherever found, do not call upon us
to protect and spare — for the sake of the depen-
dent creature, for the sake of our own souls, for the
sake of God who alike created us all.” — Boston
Transcript.
A VISIT TO PALO ALTO.
A well known clergyman of Boston says: “I
learned a lesson in the care of animals at Senator
Stanford's place at Palo Alto, California. He
took me out to see the colt's kindergarten where
the colts are taught as tenderly as little children in
the kindergarten. Senator Stanford says he treats
his animals like intelligent creatures, studies them
to find out what they are capable of, and trains
them to do what they have the ability to do. Re-
sult; – his yearlings, two year old and three year
old colts have beaten the record of the world on.
the race track. It was his invariable rule, if a man
swore, or spoke roughly, or under any provocation
struck a horse, to discharge him instantly. He
finds it pays to treat them kindly, tenderly and well.
I wish all the world could see his methods and
learn the same lesson. What he could teach along
that line should win him the gratitude of the
ages.” — Boston Journal.

I68 AſOA’ A/Z"Y”.S. SAATA.
DECALOGUE FOR ANIMALS.
TEN RULES ADOPTED BY THE ROYAL SOCIETY FOR
THE PREVENTION OF CRUELTY.
First. — No one has a right to keep animals,
either for use or pleasure, unless he is able and
willing to provide them with whatever is necessary
for their health and happiness. No animal can be
healthy and happy unless it is kindly treated, com-
fortably lodged, regularly fed, supplied with water
and afforded opportunities of recreation.
Second. — Kind and gentle treatment is due to
all animals, and need not interfere with firmness in
governing them. Animals are often thought to be
ill tempered or obstinate when they are really suf-
fering from some pain or irritation the cause of
which is not seen, but which may be soothed by
patience and quietness. If you try to find out what
is the matter with an animal before you punish him,
you will probably find that there is no reason to
punish them. Be careful to remove anything that
causes fear. Animals are often terrified by things
that men hardly observe. If they are punished,
their terror is only increased. Nothing will quiet
them so soon as gentle talk and caressing. Kind-
ness will win the confidence of any animal, and an
animal which confides in his keeper is easily man-
aged. If you want your horse to work well, take
good care that his harness does not chafe him.
Third. — All animals require sunshine, and their
dwellings should have a southerly or westerly as-

A.O.A.’ A/7'y',S SAAT/E. 169
pect if possible, but they should always have access
to shade when they desire it. Stables, sheds,
coops, and cages should be well drained, well
lighted, and well ventilated, but never drafty. A
humane owner will prevent much suffering by
learning the degree of heat and cold which the
animal is enabled by nature or habit to endure.
Every stable yard, cage, kennel and bed should be
kept thoroughly clean.
Fourth. – Every animal should have as much
solid food daily as it will eat up clean, but no more
than it will consume. Stale food is unwhole-
some. It should be removed early in the morning
and replaced by a fresh supply. Nocturnal animals
should be fed at sunset. Be careful to give animals
as much variety of food as possible, and let it be as
nearly as possible the food which the animal would
use in a state of nature. Animals which are regu-
larly fed on grain ought to have frequent supplies
of green food.
Fifth. – Every animal should have an abundant
supply of pure water for drinking. Vessels used
for food or water should be washed daily and should
be wiped dry before refilling. Iron troughs or
plates lined with porcelain are best, being clean,
cheap, and durable. -
Sixth. — Bathing is necessary to the health and
comfort of many animals. Cage birds ought to be
allowed to bathe daily, and a separate vessel
adapted to their size should be supplied for that
purpose. Some birds delight in dust baths. A
I7o A'OA’ A/Z'Y',S SAATA2.
working horse should be allowed every day to roll
on the grass, or on saw-dust.
Seventh. — Animals as well as man are happier
and better for reasonable recreation. Whenever it
is possible they should have it. The horse should
be allowed an opportunity to run at large. Dogs,
especially in cities, should be taken out to run
freely. Even cage birds are immensely pleased if
they are allowed to leave the cage an hour or so
each day.
Eighth. – When an animal is sick, see that it is
kept quiet and unmolested, and that its treatment
is unusually gentle.
Ninth. – When it is certain that an animal will
die, always secure the services of a humane and
experienced person to destroy it in the quickest
and least painful way, and when it dies never fail
to bury it at, once. -
Tenth. – Try to make the world as happy as
possible for any creature in your charge. -
º
- A. A wise heathen once said, “We hide our sins.
from the sight of men. We forget that the horse
we ride knows our temper; that our dogs and Cat-
tle have felt our cruelty; that every tree, the earth
on which we walk, the very air holds myriads of
dumb watchful creatures. º
Who knows what report they render of us to the
Gods ” — Youth's Companion.

A'OA” A/7'Y',S SAA E. I7 I
“These selections,” said Mr. Horton, “are
from papers which are read by hundreds of
thousands of people. My pocket is full of
more of the same stamp, but I have read
enough to show the tone of the press on this
subject of the abuse of dumb creatures, and to
give an idea of the mighty influence it exerts
for good. We may sadly deplore the fact, that
the newspaper is a most powerful agent in
carrying on the devil's business. At the same
time, we may reverently thank God that it
carries, to the ends of the earth, the knowledge
of ‘Whatsoever things are true, whatsoever
things are honest, whatsoever things are just,
whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things
are lovely, whatsoever things are of good re-
port.’
I have been greatly interested in what has
been said to-night on the importance of keep-
ing the studies of the young, as long as pos-
sible, free from all that may have a tendency to
dull the moral sense. It might have a good
effect, if people who bequeath their money to
schools and colleges, should take care to pre-
vent its ever being used to promote cruel
practices. *
º I knew a good woman, too tender-hearted to
---
hurt a mouse, who, all her life denied herself











~
- --
--
The good and great Lord Shaftsbury of
England, said about vivisection “the thought
of this diabolical system haunts and disturbs
I72 | me night and day.
every luxury that she might endow a school
with her hoarded savings. She wouldn't rest
in her grave if she knew what is going on in
that school to-day. I believe that these experi-
ments in physiology, in some natures, º
crime. I knew a boy, gentle and kind, who
developed into a fiend. His friends traced the
change in him, directly, to his studies on this
line. He came to the gallows, when still
young, and the wretch deserved the fate if
any one ever did. The tendency to begin these
studies too early, should be checked.
I know another case, where a science-crazy
teacher compelled a sensitive girl, twelve years
old, to stay in the school-room and witness a
- vivisection. The child came near being thrown
into convulsions by this outrage to her finer
feelings. When the parents came upon the
SCene, the teacher found that she had some-
thing to deal with besides the “squeamishness’
of the child. The hand of the law cannot come
down too heavy, on this matter of experiments
in public schools.”
A WORD FROM D R. SAMPSON.
“You ask me for one word. I ought not to
refuse so simple a request. The word I have
in mind — is, by no means, simple in signifi-

- . Famous and noble old Dr. Johnson, of
England characterized vivisectors as “a race of
wretches, who, with knives, poisons, and many
other devilish contrivances of torture, pretend
A.OA to get knowledge, though at the expense of their
own humanity.”
cance. It suggests heart-rending horrors, –
too inhuman to detail. It stands for barbarous
experiments, – atrocious cruelties, practiced as
a means of illustration or for the purpose of
demonstrating well-known truths. The word
might be defined : — The infliction of excruciat-
ing torture on helpless, innocent creatures, for
the sake of an alleged benefit to mankind that
is questioned by many of the wisest and best
scientists in the world. It /*as been defined :
“Hellish crimes committed in the grand name
of science.’ In the lexicons of the future, this
word, in the sense we are now considering it,
will be marked – offso/e/e. Statistics show
that crime is greatly on the increase in this
country. It will continue to increase, as long
as such a crime as vivisection is upheld by law.
It is a blot upon our nation's honor that vivi-
section, as now practiced, is not made a crime.
Let this practice be forbidden, - and scientists,
who have for generations kept steadily on in
this old demoralizing track, making these sick-
ening experiments over and over again, will
search out new lines of study, will devise
higher methods of demonstration. There are
forces in this world waiting for discovery,
which will open new channels of search that
will lead to nobler results, – without involv-
I74 A'O/C A/Z'Y',S SAATA2.
ing physical agony and moral degradation.
The reports that come from the laboratories
of France are blood-curdling. We long to
think they are exaggerated, but are forced, by
the testimony of authentic witnesses, to believe
the worst that has been told. It is said that
there are places in our own land where as
horrible scenes are daily witnessed by young
students in physiology, who become so hard-
ened that they are pitiless lookers-on, regard.
less of the most touching appeals of the suf-
ferers. Is this the kind of instruction to create
the highest type of manhood 2 Is this a fit
preparation for a noble life It is degrading
to the proud name of science that its devotees
must resort to such ignoble means, to gain a
minimum of knowledge, that could, doubt-
less, be acquired by methods above reproach.
It is declared, by reliable scientific authorities,
that these experiments ‘serve no purpose that
cannot be better served by other methods;” –
that “they are not justified by necessity and
no harm will come to science if they are for-
bidden ; ' - that ‘ these brutal methods of im-
parting knowledge (?) do far more harm than
they can do good ; ' that “vivisection is useless
and misleading in the cause of true science and
its employment should be stopped ; ' — that
“Cruelty would need no hell
Save the ghosts of the sad beasts should
COme. -
| And standing, silent, crowd their centered
heads,
Stare the ill man to madness.”

AWOAC A/Z"Y’.S. SAATA. I75
‘this practice, for the purpose of instruction, is ab-
solutely unnecessary and ought to be put an end
to by legislation, without any reserve whatever.’
The testimony of hundreds of honest, noble-
hearted, eminent physicians goes to prove that
‘It is unjustifiable, cruel, and in no way ad-
vances medical science ; ' - that ‘it has opened
up no new views for the cure of diseases ; ' –
that ‘it blunts the moral sense to such a degree
as to become a strong force in the production
of criminals ; ' – that ‘in all medical schools it
should be abolished.” Cardinal Manning saw
this tendency to dull the moral nature, when he
said: ‘What will be the effect on the nation, if
this abominable practice continues unchecked *
If we allow the nation to become brutalized by
what is called science ; what will happen to Our
young students who ought to be sent out with
tender hearts, and souls full of sympathy for
all God’s creatures 2
Among the advocates of this ‘infernal in-
humanity' on the scientific side of the question,
there are some, who claim that “moral law has
no place in the laboratory,’— that ‘animals
have no rig//s there, that man is called upon to
respect.’ Others say that ‘ these experiments
are cruel in the eyes of super-sensitive, hysteric
people;’ – that “accounts are grossly exagger-
0, that there were scorpion-whips
to lash such villains naked through-
out the world.
[Shakespeared


Lord Shaftsbury said ºn
tion: “The thought of this diabolical crime
disturbs me night and day.” -
-
176 APOA’ A/Z'Y',S S.A.A.A.
ated.’ They try to pacify the public by crying
that there is no pain, – but details, taken
from laboratory records, tell the story. Such
zecords do not lie. They say, too, that nature
is cruel in its methods; ' that the history of
nature's workings is one long tragedy. -
It is not for man to accuse nature, in º
of his own cruelty ; – to pass judgment on
nature's methods of keeping its true balance,
until he can better comprehend, in its breadth,
depth and height the great plan of the Creator.
It is clearly the mission of man to add to the
happiness and lessen the misery in the world,
as far as it lies in his power. Again, they say
that ‘ the greatest good to the greatest number
is the measure of right and wrong.’ When
doctors disagree so widely, as to what is the
greatest good to the greatest number, who,
but the people, shall decide 2 Some one has
asked why an angry driver, who beats his
horses on the street, should be arrested, fined,
and dealt with as he deserves — when a profes-
sional man and a scholar may torture, in the
most brutal manner, without fear of being
molested by the law One wonders why the
driver does not question the justice of a decree
that punishes him for the lesser crime.
The truth is, the people, as yet, know but















A.O.A.’ A/Z'Y”.S. SAATA. I 77.
little of this atrocious business, which is carried
on behind closed doors that bar out the very
elect. But there is a growing repugnance
toward it, deep and strong. The world is wak-
ing up to think about it — to read about it —
to talk about it. A spirit of sympathy for
these innocent sufferers is working in the heart
of the public. The question of justice to them,
is coming more and more to the front. The
people will not much longer be kept in igno-
rance. The literature of the Humane Societies,
so widely circulated, tells the plain, unvarnished
truth ; – and all may read. I have faith in the
humanity in mankind when once it is aroused.
Let there be a wide-spread knowledge of the
extent and enormity of this practice, and the
world will not sit with folded hands and allow
it to continue. The time will come, in fact, I
think it is at hand, when a mighty sound like
the roar of many waters will go up from the
heart of ‘the people,’ demanding in the name
of justice, of mercy, of humanity, of honor, that
this evil shall cease. There will be a hard
fight for its continuance. There are many who
command salaries for conducting these cruel-
ties, and many more, who gain a livelihood by
supplying the subjects. They will make the
weight of their numbers felt in the contest, but
178 A’OA’ Z2/7"Y’.S. SAAT/E.
I have no fear for the ultimate result. Nothing
can withstand the march of true progress.
This is a mighty question. It implores the
whole civilized world to search into it. When
a knowledge of this inhuman practice and its
depraving influence becomes universal ; – the
end is assured : But one is forced to cry, “How
long, O Lord ** -
“I am glad if there is a hopeful side to this
question,” said one, “for my part, I am kept
awake nights, thinking that these infernal pro-
ceedings are going on somewhere, and, as yet,
there is no power to stop it. We need another
Harriet Beecher Stowe, to handle man's in-
humanity to animals, as that noble woman dealt
with his inhumanity to man. But we must
wait for this uprising of public sentiment, that
Dr. Sampson has such faith in.”
“No l’’ interrupted Dr. Sampson, “we must
not wait for it. We must fight for it !
But you all have lost sight of the fact that
it is getting late ; or shall we call it early 2
The next stroke of the clock will begin on the
wee sma hours. The moon has gone behind
the hills. Our lights are growing dim. The
morning light and the cock-crowing are not
far away. The clerk is nodding in his chair.
He will wake and accuse us of cruelty to

fo/& P/TY'S S.A.A.A. I79
animals if we keep him up much longer."
* Then all arose and said “Good Night.’”
a While from the windows, here and there,
The scattered lamps a moment gleamed,
And the illumined hostel seemed
The constellation of the Bear,
Downward, athwart the misty air,
Sinking and setting toward the sun,
Far off the village clock struck one.”
The Moral Warfare
“The author of a great reformation is
always unpopular in his own age. He generally
passes his life in disquiet and danger. #
is therefore for the interest of the huma
race that the memory of such men should be
had in reverence, and that they should be Sup-
ported against the scorn and hatred of their con-
temporaries. To go on the forlorn hope of truth
-
- - -- -
* * * * * * * -----
3 + § ă ă ă is a service of peril—who will undertake it, if
: 5 : 5 = § it be not also a service of honor? It is easy
5. 80 º *- º enough after the ramparts are carried, to find
3 gº o 3 § men to plant the flag on the topmost tower.
* : *, *, $ § The difficulty is to find men who are ready to go
# 3 & 5 ; ; ; S first in the breach. (Lord Macauley)
: .% ºf 3 j :- KQ
- º r- Q-> --
TS "C E Tº
rc *- º 5 ºn E - - -
= ~ : * $ 5 Vivisection
§ - . E-, 3 + ——
ºf E ºf + º- - - -
§ 5 - # - 5 A Science without God! A lustful greed
º : = 3 E * Of sovereign Knowledge, arming hands of power
= 5 & 3 * 35 To search out Nature's secret, plenteous dower
§ - 3, ... : := Of deep, indwelling Life Dumb victims bleed
* - N- - c º - - - - … .
a tº E R F And suffer Torture; and their strained eyes plead
% = # 3 F ºf A helpless misery as they shrink and cower
3 - 5 - : 5 While cruel fingers wantonly deflower
ă ă ă ă ă = Some part of wonted use. -
* * * * 3 No human need is aided; but, divinest use denied,
H E : : , ś, The low beast's maiming will invite the high
º 35 ºf - - - --- -
5 : E → * Immortal man’s ; till horrors multiplied
* * : * = Destroy all thought of healing; and the cry
Of sick humanity be answered by
An outraged Nature and a God defied.”
(C. E. Rowe, England)
-

I8o A'OA’ A/7').”.S. SAATA2.
VI.
FINALE.
“So many gods, so many creeds —
So many paths that wind and wind,
While just the art of being kind
Is all the sad world needs.”
A few short years have passed since I lis-
tened to the talks on the veranda of the Coun-
try Inn, which I have related in the foregoing
chapters. I have not had the good fortune to
meet any of that little company again. I think
of them as “Ships that pass in the night.”
But the ringing words that were spoken in
passing, changed the course of a life.
I thought of Mr. Gates and his avowed af-
fection for the religions of the Orient, when
reading, not long ago, a report of a notable ad-
dress by a Buddhist Monk from Ceylon.
“Dharmapala, with a beautiful spirit and rev-
erent earnestness,” says “The Outlook,” “ex-
pounded the teachings of Buddha. His man-
ner was so courteous and his spirit so fine that
no one could doubt the spiritual power and
earnestness of the man. When at last he said
that he did not come to attack our religion,
but could not help expressing his mind con-



AſO/C A/Z'Y',S SA/TA. I8I
cerning the terrible sufferings of the animal
world, and declared that such sights as are wit-
nessed at the stock yards in Chicago are a dis-
grace to civilization and would not be tolerated
in a Buddhist country, the audience manifested
its approval by a round of the heartiest ap-
plause.”
Mr. Leigh, and his eager search for light on
the question of endless life for the lower ani-
mals, came to my mind, as in looking over
recent book notices, I saw the somewhat sur-
prising title, – “Life and Immortality, or
Souls in Plants and Animals.” The writer of
this book claims that the same breath of life,
which, we read, was breathed into the nostrils
of man by the Creator, was also breathed into
every created thing which has life. “If, there-
fore, this was a particle of the divine essence
which became the immortal soul in man, then
all other animals have immortal souls, for they
all received the spirit of lives in common with
him. ” The theories of this book are not of
such stuff as dreams are made of. They are
the outcome of a scientific study of the great
lessons taught by nature and Revelation to one
who has eyes to see, ears to hear, and a heart
to feel. No one can read it without feeling a
deep sense of the sacredness of life, however
I82 AſOA’ A/7').”.S. SAATA.
widely he may differ from the author in belief.
Again : Another member of that little com-
pany was brought before me, when the X-Ray
came — to startle the world, with its weird
power to illumine its darkest places. Is not
this, one of the forces waiting for discovery,
that proves the truth of Dr. Sampson's hopeful,
prophetic words In time, – may not the lens
supercede the scalpel, as a holier and cleaner
means of search into the secrets of life 2
A vision of a pretty lady dressed in blue —
talking earnestly about birds, rises from my
memory, as I read, to-day, of the great move-
ments on foot to prevent our wild birds from
being swept off the face of the earth. The
“ note of alarm " has, at last, been heard. The
conscience of the public is aroused. The ap-
peals to humanity have not been in vain.
The “Song-birds of Massachusetts and their
Play-fellows " have led the world, in presenting
to the General Court of their State a plea for
protection, signed wit/, //eir own names. It was
a wise little bird that whispered into the ear of
the kind-hearted Senator, who framed for them
their unique and graceful petition. Happy
Massachusetts birds ! Their protection is
henceforth assured. We listen for a new note
in their joyful song.


AWOAC A/7').”.S. SAATA. 183
I hear, too, from the East, that an energetic
women's club has started a crusade for saving
the birds that bids fair to march around the
world. It is, indeed, hopeful when women
join their forces to protect the feathered tribes.
“It is a melancholy fact,” writes a Secretary
of the Department of Agriculture, “that among
the enemies of our birds, two of the most des-
tructive and relentless are our women and our
boys.” Woman may, as a noble woman has
suggested, “so create fashion that it will be
vulgar for a woman to wear any part of a bird
in her hat.” Woman, too, can stop the mania
for collecting eggs that is too often encouraged
by the thoughtless. She can educate the small
boy to use the camera and the spy-glass in the
woods and fields, instead of the gun. “The gun
gives the body,” said Thoreau, - “not the
bird.”
Women were never so united in organ-
ized forces as they are to-day. There is
strength, in this union, for the accomplish-
ment of every good work which gains their
notice. It is interesting to trace, in the evo-
lution of women's clubs, the growth of the
helpful element in the subjects to which they
give their attention. The primary idea of the
club, everywhere, was individual culture and
184 AſOAC A/Z'Y”.S. SAATA2.
the development of a finer home life. What is
individual culture, but the starting point, the
stepping stone to that universal culture which
broadens, deepens and uplifts the life of a
nation ? The practical and the helpful questions
are now pressing to the front, demanding and
receiving intelligent attention. What can we
do to develop a finer public spirit in our Com-
munity ? What can we do to improve and
make more attractive our towns and villages?
How can we help to protect our shade trees,
and preserve our forests 2 How can we show
our interest in education ? Are we doing all
we can, to aid and encourage our public school
teachers in the noble work to which they are
devoting their lives 2 Can we not use our in-
fluence, and add our mite, towards making our
school-houses beautiful, healthful and home-
like 2 What shall we do to create and foster,
in the rising generation, a taste for the best in
literature, music and art 2 Is it not our mission
to do what we can to stop the wanton des-
truction of our song-birds 2
The interests that appeal strongly to women's
clubs for a share in their thought and work,
are many; and many are the calls to which
they nobly respond. But there is one cause,
that, with its mute appeal to their sympathy,

AſO/C A/7"Y’,S S.A.A.A. 185
has, thus far, been strangely overlooked, or
thoughtlessly disregarded. Can we not make
a special effort to show our interest in the
movements for the prevention of cruelty to Our
dumb animals 2 Can we not use our influence
to prevent the mutilation of horses, to abolish
the use of Savage bits and barbarous check-
reins 2 Can we not help to create a public
sentiment against the practice of vivisection,
that shall have weight, in putting a stop to this
infamous cruelty Can not we become such a
power in the cause of humanity to all helpless
dumb creatures, that it will yet be said, that the
societies for prevention of cruelty to animals
have no stronger allies than women's clubs
Is the work that stands waiting to be done
by the “white hands, warm hearts, and subtle
brains of those who serve" in women's clubs,
almost appalling to the faint-hearted 2 I heard,
not long ago, the address of a college Presi-
dent to a class of young women about to leave
the college home for their work in life. I had
no pencil and paper for tangible notes. I cannot
give the speaker's helpful words, but the spirit
of them says: If there is more work than we
can do, - more wrong than we can right, —
more mystery than we can solve, – more suf-
fering than we can relieve, – more sorrow than





I86 A'O/C A/7'Y’.S. SAATA.
We can assuage ; let us not for a moment for-
get that there is more help, — more courage,
— more strength than we can use, – more love
than we can comprehend. What we need, is
more trust in the great Designer of all things,
who sees the end from the beginning, and knows
the ultimate good that will come from what
may seem to our finite vision, a chaos of evil.
The signs of the times are hopeful in the
promise of a better recognition of the rights of
the lower animals. Humane Societies are
doing a good work in their behalf that can
hardly be over-estimated. It is doubtless a
result of their vigorous efforts, that dissection
and vivisection have been prohibited in our
public schools. Other humane movements
have, within the last few years, been “crys-
talized by legislation ; ” a matter of great re-
joicing to those who have worked unceasingly
to bring about such desirable results. Yet the
world is still waiting for the zenith of that civ-
ilization, which recognizes the fact that “all
life is worthy of interest, sympathy, love and
reverence, ’’ and demands a love so great as
to include a helpful, tender regard for the
happiness and well being of the dumb animals
that inherit, with mankind, a dwelling place on
this old earth.



AſOA’ A/Z'Y',S SAA E. 187
Once more, I have made a pilgrimage to the
mountains and the sea. When in the vicinity
of that restful place, which so charmed me on
my former journey, I could not resist the
temptation to revisit the scene of my strange
dream, - and awakening to new views of life's
duties and responsibilities. Arriving at the
railway station at the foot of the hill, I looked
in vain for the picturesque, clumsy, old yellow
stage-coach. A little disappointed, I called a
carriage, saying to the driver, “Take me to the
Old Inn on the Hill.”
In surprise he exclaimed, “Why, Madam |
Haven't you heard 2 That house has been
burned to the ground !”
“Then take me to the place where it stood,”
I said.
As we slowly drove up the long hill I plied
the driver with questions. I learned that this
fine old mansion, after its life of more than a
hundred years of usefulness and honor, had
been cruelly swept away by the torch of a
midnight incendiary; that the whole town
mourned the loss of this priceless historic land-
mark. And well it might. Too few of these
choice relics of Colonial days are left to us
* now, and they cannot be prized too highly, or
guarded too well. I learned, also, from the

I88 FOA' P/7'Y'S SAA E.
driver, who looked wonderingly at me when I
inquired for the horses in the stable, by name,
that Madame, the aristocratic old white beauty,
was found dead in her stall, one morning, a
short time before the fire ; her appearance in-
dicating that she had dropped suddenly from
heart disease. Frazzle, too, had passed away ;
and was buried in the shade of a maple in the
field that he loved so well. Poor Ned, so
cruelly wronged, became nervous and intract-
able, and was taken with a car-load of horses to
be sold at auction in the South. He had been
sent, as was prophesied, where flies would
worry him the year round, and with no tail to
protect himself from their torments.
As we drew near the desolate site, I began
instinctively to repeat, —
“For the blackness of ashes shall mark where it stood,
And the wild mother scream — ”
I could not finish the couplet, for a comfor-
table, motherly old hen was scratching and
clucking fondly to her brood of well-fed
chicks, in the tall grasses and weeds that
already grew on the spot. The grand old elms
stood on guard about the place, as they did
when I first saw it. The same peaceful coun-
try stretched far away towards the mountains
and the sunset. But with the old house, the
AOA. A/7'y'S S.A.A.F. 189
delightful atmosphere of mellow repose, the
quaint charm that cast its spell over the quiet
neighborhood, had departed. It was as if the
spirit of a living thing had gone out in that
blaze and smoke. Not a trace of the time-
honored land-mark was left standing. Only
the door-stones remained. What fancies
they suggested of the myriads of fair women,
brave men, and dear little children, who had
passed in and out, in all the years from the day
they were placed there, to the black night
when the fire-fiend bounded over them in haste
to leave the scene of his crime.
I was hurried away from this tragic spot in
an electric car, that went tearing down the
Street Beautiful, where before, the drowsy
old stage-coach had so lazily rumbled. Closing
my eyes to the gaunt poles that towered up
among the fine trees that shaded it, I recalled
my first impression of this fair street, on the
day that we drove in its grateful shade to the
restful Inn beyond.
Glancing over the columns of a daily journal
as the train bore me away, my attention was
arrested by the words, “Are Animals Immor-
tal 2 " In a paragraph under this head, I read
that a “ Bureau of Animal Psychology " has
been recently formed in this country; the ob-




I90 A'OA’ A/Z'Y',S SAATA.
º
ject of which “is to collect evidence by corres-
pondence and observation, to show that the
lower animals may be immortal.” The names.
of many who are interested in this movement
are well and widely known. So the question
with which my story opens, commands, to-day,
the attention of wise heads in science and
theology.
On one of my journeys across the country,
it was my good fortune to make the acquain-
tance of a venerable Bishop, whose life was,
long ago, consecrated to a labor of love
among the Indians of the West. The dear old
man is already canonized in the hearts of his
friends. His face, even now, shines as with a
light from the heavenly city. I listened, spell-
bound, as he told the story of his adventures,
hardships, discouragements and successes.
among the tribes of the wilderness. Truly,
this humble disciple, in ministering to the
temporal and spiritual needs of these rude
children of the forest, has followed, as closely
as human may, the precepts and example of
our Divine Master. The good Bishop told me
that it had been his custom, day after day, and
year after year, to ride, alone, through the
wilderness; where it would seem that he bore
a charmed life.
APO/C A/Z'Y',S S.A.A.A. I9 J
“My only travelling companion for many
years,” said he “was my good horse, Rainier.
We journeyed together more than thirty
thousand miles. I looked upon him as a friend,
faithful and true.”
With a tear glistening in his eye, he con-
tinued, “I cried bitterly when my dear old
Rainier died. I loved him, and, even now,
tears come to my eyes when I speak of him.”
After a moment's pause he added, “But I
may see him again, Is not our Father's love
large enough to hold all his creatures 2 And
is not his universe broad enough to give them
all a home 2 " .
We can easily run from these few premises to
the full realization that there is a passion of
cruelty still sweeping along in our world and our
country—a passion which should be met and be
eliminated more perfectly from the human
| heart. It was the disgrace of the past; it is
the DEEPER INFAMy of the present because the
culture of the race has moved forward since
the times of Nero and Catharine de Medici.
- - º - Yºº-
They are slaves who fear to speak -
For the fallen and the weak; -
They are slaves who will not choose
Hatred, scoffing and abuse.
Rather than in Silence shrink
From the truth they needs must think.
They are slaves who dare not be
In the right with two or three. -
(Lowell)
- - -









MPENDINE HUMAN WISECTION,
The following, from a leading vivisector, justifies our contention that
human vivisection is not avoided, but is directly led up to, and caused by,
|opens a field of unlimited
|importance for the same
these miscreants so obviously indicated their conscious guilt : .
. . . “That part of medi-
criminal class of human
the vivisection of animals. Please observe that prior to the following con-
fession, physiologists have always insisted that by vivisecting animals
the vivisection of men would be avoided ; that discoveries of the greatest
importance could thus be made, which could not otherwise be made except
by the vivisection of human beings. What follows shows this claim to be
one of the many falsehoods so glibly and brazenly told by, and in excuse of,
vivisectors. Never before now has the temper, attitude and argument of
tº
cal science which applies.
solely to the human consti-
tution cannot be advanced
| without a proper use of hu-
man subjects. Vivisection
upon the lower animals
work upon the capital




subjects. That part of med-
ical science which refers
directly to the human or=
ganism cannot be stud=
ied upon any other class of
animals.”––J. S. PYLE, M.D.,
In “The Peoria Medical Record.”
of March 15th, 1896.
| May, 1896.
Published by
| The New England Anti-Vivisection Society,
l. *Premrerºsº, Boston, Ma




-->
MRS. FRANCES L. WILSON OF ST. |
AUGUSTINE, FLA., -
| Writes us of a young lady of Deerfield, Mass.,
who, seeing some bright little kittensin a neigh-
| boring yard, applied to the owner to give her
a couple for dissection, which the owner re-
spectfully declined. -
Mrs. Wilson adds: “Why was this young
girl called on to dissect kittens? Will she be a
| better woman, wife or mother, by learning the
internal organization of these happy little
creatures? Oh, Mr Angell, what a mistaken
view of education How different from those º
beautiful lines of Coleridge:–
* He prayeth best who loveth best
All things both great and small:
For the dear God who loveth us, º
He made and loveth all.” º
As ever, your friend,
FRANCES L. WILSON.”





This, I think, is the view we ought al
general public, not indeed to the exclusion of arguments ºf
- based on considerations of justice, mercy, and humanity, but ||
as supplementing these and rendering them far more effec- -
tive than they would be by themselves, I do what I can, in
a private way, and find this argument quite unanswerable.
The only attempt at a reply is usually to the effect that hu-
man vivisections would never be allowed in this country, an
assertion that may be true, now, but may not long continue
so. It is truly deplorable that in this age of boasted civili-
* zation and enlightenment such atrocious deeds should be
done as those described in the pamphlets you have sent me.
I fear that our civilization is merely a veneer, and close un- ||
# derneath it lies the same old savagery and forocity that
; : prompted the Roman populace to gaze with delight upon the
gladiatorial combats and the tortures of the early Christian
martyrs, - -
-
º
--
-
*
º
i Published by - -
º | The New England Anti-Vivisection Society, ſº
| #94-4 rement-Street, Bostoniº ºf º
ſ -—- º
Sir Henry Taylor has written noble lines on
this matter—vivisection—going deep into the
heart of the question :- -
“Pain, terror, mortal agonies that scare
Thy heart in man, to ºruſes these wilt not spare
| Are Aeſºs Zess sad and rea/ º Pain in man
Bears the high mission of the flail and fan
//, bruſes ºs //rely fºols.”
Extract from personal letter to Mr. Philip G. Peabody :
“These impudent contradictions of facts witnessed by
us, or detailed in their own signed articles, are a part of the
game of bluff which these scoundrels are all bound to play.”
24, 2/-, -º
º by (? Gººg)
The New Engländ Anti-Vivisection Society,
- I79A Tremont Street, Boston -
No gº. łoston, Mass.
-
() Science What crimes are committed
in thy name ! º
- —- =




























-
--~~~~ geº- -
Tian's Inhumanity. -
Man's inhumanity to man is only excelled in
extent and intensity by his inhumanity to dumb
brutes that serve him. The law protects the
poor and weak among men from oppression and
brutality to some extent, but the few weak laws
for the protection of dumb brutes in most of
A e states are rarely executed. Animals are
beaten, overworked, starved and maltreated in
various ways to an extent that is disgraceful to
civilized and Christian nations. The eyes of
animals are often knocked out and their skin
lacerated by whips and clubs in the hands of
infuriated and often intoxicated drivers and
the laws for the protection of these innocent
and unfortunate animals have no more force
than the English alphabet or the multiplication
tables. The World is full of miserable human
beings and maltreated and neglected domestic
nimals, and the noblest men and women are
– those who do the most to relieve the suffering of
men and animals, and the most wicked in the
sight of God are those who cause the greatest
amount of suffering in the world. The money
king who swallows the honest earnings of 10,000
hard-working families and leaves those he has
craftily and legally robbed to suffer for Want of
bread and clothing. Will have a heavy account
to settle at the end of his stewardship, and he
Will have to draw on a broken bank to make his
payments. (Col. Dan'l Dennett.)
A man of kindness to his beast is kind,
Put brutal actions show a brutal mind:
Remember, He who made thee, made the brute,
Who gave thee speech and reason, made him
mute.
He can’t complain, but God’s all-seeing eye,
Beholds THY cruelty and hears HIS cry.
He was designed thy friend and servant, not
thy drudge, -
And know that his Creator is thy Judge.
The bravest are the tenderest.
--
- - -
ſ
º
-
º
-
º















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Dumb.
| (Sir Arthur Helps :) I can hardly express to
you how much I feel there is to be thought of,
arising from the use of the word “dumb” as
applied to animals, “T)umb Animals.”—What
an immense exhortation that is to pity. It is
º a remarkable thing that the word “dumb”
should have been so largely applied to animals,
for in reality there are very few dumb animals.
ºf But, doubtless, the word is often used to con- -
vey a larger idea than that Of dumbness,
namely, the Want of power in animals to convey -
by sound to mankind what they feel, or perhaps
* I should rather say the want in power of man
f to understand the meaning of the various º
sounds uttered by animals, but as regards those -
: animals which are mostly dumb, such as the - º, ), ºion ſº
-
;#g
horse, which except on rare occasions or in
extreme suffering, makes no sound at all, but
only expresses pain by certain movements
indicating it. How tender we ought to be of
them, and how observant of these movements,
considering their dumbness. The human baby
guides and governs us by its cries. In fact, it
ſ will nearly rule a household by these cries, and - º
Woe would betide it if it had not this power of :
making its afflictions known. It is a sad thing
to reflect upon, that the animal which has most |
to endure from man, is the one which has the -
lºst power of protesting by noise against any
of his evil treatments.
º - -
An Unpardonable Offense.
Rev. Dr. Irvine, in one of his eloquent ser-
mons, says: “To neglect the poor, speechless
beast, that cannot appeal in your tongue to the -
commiseration of a passer by, is simply unpard- º
onable, and the man who is guilty of such neg-
lect is worse than a brute. The arrant infidelity H.
of Balaam, and his sordid love of money, are
secondary crimes compared with his brutal
abuse of the ass which he rode; and the Lord º
wrought a miracle to secure a loud remonstrance.
- We have but one instance in the whole Bible of
a dumb animal speaking, and the miracle was
- Wrought to condemn the sin of cruelty to
- animals.”