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Page 31
"Last night," resumed the lady, "he spoke particularly of the crime of
wearing birds; and he accuses us of being more cruel than men."
"He does?" questioned Mrs. Brown, in great surprise. "Why, we all know
that woman's part in this wickedness comes from her desire to look
pretty; at least she thinks that wearing birds adds to her beauty. Her
wickedness does not come from actual love of butchery. But men and
boys have shot innocent creatures since the world began for the mere
brutal pleasure of killing something. It seems as though they were
born with a blood-thirsty instinct, a wanting to destroy life, to hunt
it and shoot it down. They beg to go gunning almost before they are
out of dresses and into trousers. Every mother knows there is a savage
streak in her boy's nature. No," continued Mrs. Brown, with a decisive
nod of her head, "I say let the man who is without sin among them be
the first to cast stones now. Perhaps this very preacher spent all his
Saturdays robbing birds' nests and clubbing birds when he was a little
boy, and kept it up until he was big enough to kill them with a gun.
Of course there are some who do not; not all boys are cruel. But this
cruelty does not excuse ours. Man's wickedness does not make us the
less guilty. We will be held responsible all the same."
The other woman looked thoughtful. "Well," she said at last, "I
haven't quite lost all faith in womanly mercy. Women don't mean to be
cruel; the trouble is they don't think."
"Don't think!" echoed Mrs. Brown scornfully. "Don't think! That is an
excuse entirely too babyish for women to offer in this age of the
world. Do they want to be regarded as irresponsible children forever?
Don't you know that childish thoughtlessness on a subject as important
as the needless taking of life argues tremendously against us? Here we
are at the twentieth century, and with all our boasted advancement we
are as cruel and savage as Fiji Islanders. Oh, don't talk to me about
women!" and she made an outward motion of her hand as if pushing away
an imaginary drove of them that was coming too near. "I haven't a
particle of patience with them. If they're not in the habit of
thinking, let them begin it right off. Let them begin it before the
birds are all destroyed. If they have the least spark of tenderness
left in their hearts------"
The rest of the sentence was lost in the louder tones of a pert little
miss, who in company with her mother was rummaging over a box of
trimmings on the counter nearest my cage.
CHAPTER XI
THE ILL-MANNERED CHILD
O wad some power the giftie gie us
To see oursel's as ithers see us.
--_Burns._
There lived of yore a saintly dame,
Whose wont it was with sweet accord
To do the bidding of her Lord
In quaintly fashioned bonnet
With simplest ribbons on it.
"I won't have ribbon loops, I tell you," exclaimed the child. "I want
an owl's head and I'm going to have it."
"Why, my dear, the ribbon is ever so much prettier," urged the mother
soothingly. "An owl's head is too old a trimming for your hat, dear.
It wouldn't do at all. Here, select some of this nice ribbon."
"Didn't I say I wouldn't have it?" answered "dear" pettishly, as she
reached into another box containing an assortment of wings, quails,
tails, and parts of various birds jumbled up together. Picking out a
pair of blackbird's wings she placed them jauntily against the rim of
an untrimmed hat which her mother held.
"There, that looks nice," was her comment. "If I can't have an owl's
head I'm going to have these wings."
Her mother mildly assured her that the ribbon was more suitable only to
be met with the reply: "You can wear it yourself then, for I sha'n't
wear it."
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