Beautiful Joe [64]
ornament themselves with their little dead
bodies. One million bobolinks have been killed in one month near Philadelphia.
Seventy song-birds were sent from one Long Island village to New York milliners.
"In Florida, cruel men shoot the mother bird. on their nests while they are
rearing their young. because their plumage is prettiest at that time. The little
ones cry pitifully, and starve to death. Every bird of the rarer kinds that is
killed, such as humming birds, orioles and kingfishers, means the death of
several others that is, the young that starve to death, the wounded that fly
away to die, and those whose plumage is so torn that it is not fit to put in a
fine lady's bonnet. In some cases where birds have gay wings, and the hunters do
not wish the rest of the body, they tear off the wings from the living bird, and
throw it away to die.
"I am sorry to tell you such painful things, but I think you ought to know them.
You will soon be men and women. Do what you can to stop this horrid trade. Our
beautiful birds are being taken from us, and the insect pests are increasing.
The State of Massachusetts has lost over one hundred thousand dollars because it
did not protect its birds. The gypsy moth stripped the trees near Boston, and
the State had to pay out all this money, and even then could not get rid of the
moths. The birds could have done it better than the State, but they were all
gone. My last words to you are, ' Protect the birds.'" Mrs. Wood went to her
seat, and though the boys and girls had listened very attentively, none of them
cheered her. Their faces looked sad, and they kept very quiet for a few minutes.
I saw one or two little girls wiping their eyes. I think they felt sorry for the
birds.
"Has any boy done anything about blinders and check-reins?" asked the president,
after a time.
A brown-faced boy stood up. "I had a picnic last Monday," he said; "father let
me cut all the blinders off our head-stalls with my penknife."
"How did you get him to consent to that?" asked the president.
"I told him," said the boy, "that I couldn't get to sleep for thinking of him.
You know he drives a good deal late at night. I told him that every dark night
he came from Sudbury I thought of the deep ditch alongside the road, and wished
his horses hadn't blinders on. And every night he comes from the Junction, and
has to drive along the river bank where the water has washed away the earth till
the wheels of the wagon are within a foot or two of the edge, I wished again
that his horses could see each side of them, for I knew they'd have sense enough
to keep out of danger if they could see it. Father said that might be very true,
and yet his horses had been broken in with blinders, and didn't I think they
would be inclined to shy if he took them off; and wouldn't they be frightened to
look around and see the wagon wheels so near. I told him that for every accident
that happened to a horse without blinders, several happened to a horse with
them; and then I gave him Mr. Wood's opinion Mr. Wood out at Dingley Farm. He
says that the worst thing against blinders is that a frightened horse never
knows when he has passed the thing that scared him. He always thinks it is
behind him. The blinders are there and he can't see that he has passed it, and
he can't turn his head to have a good look at it. So often he goes tearing madly
on; and sometimes lives are lost all on account of a little bit of leather
fastened over a beautiful eye that ought to look out full and free at the world.
That finished father. He said he'd take off his blinders, and if he had an
accident, he'd send the bill for damages to Mr. Wood. But we've had no accident.
The horses did act rather queerly at first, and started a little; but they soon
got over it, and now they go as steady without blinders as they ever did with
them."
The boy sat down, and the president said: "I think it is time that the whole
nation threw off this foolishness of half covering their
bodies. One million bobolinks have been killed in one month near Philadelphia.
Seventy song-birds were sent from one Long Island village to New York milliners.
"In Florida, cruel men shoot the mother bird. on their nests while they are
rearing their young. because their plumage is prettiest at that time. The little
ones cry pitifully, and starve to death. Every bird of the rarer kinds that is
killed, such as humming birds, orioles and kingfishers, means the death of
several others that is, the young that starve to death, the wounded that fly
away to die, and those whose plumage is so torn that it is not fit to put in a
fine lady's bonnet. In some cases where birds have gay wings, and the hunters do
not wish the rest of the body, they tear off the wings from the living bird, and
throw it away to die.
"I am sorry to tell you such painful things, but I think you ought to know them.
You will soon be men and women. Do what you can to stop this horrid trade. Our
beautiful birds are being taken from us, and the insect pests are increasing.
The State of Massachusetts has lost over one hundred thousand dollars because it
did not protect its birds. The gypsy moth stripped the trees near Boston, and
the State had to pay out all this money, and even then could not get rid of the
moths. The birds could have done it better than the State, but they were all
gone. My last words to you are, ' Protect the birds.'" Mrs. Wood went to her
seat, and though the boys and girls had listened very attentively, none of them
cheered her. Their faces looked sad, and they kept very quiet for a few minutes.
I saw one or two little girls wiping their eyes. I think they felt sorry for the
birds.
"Has any boy done anything about blinders and check-reins?" asked the president,
after a time.
A brown-faced boy stood up. "I had a picnic last Monday," he said; "father let
me cut all the blinders off our head-stalls with my penknife."
"How did you get him to consent to that?" asked the president.
"I told him," said the boy, "that I couldn't get to sleep for thinking of him.
You know he drives a good deal late at night. I told him that every dark night
he came from Sudbury I thought of the deep ditch alongside the road, and wished
his horses hadn't blinders on. And every night he comes from the Junction, and
has to drive along the river bank where the water has washed away the earth till
the wheels of the wagon are within a foot or two of the edge, I wished again
that his horses could see each side of them, for I knew they'd have sense enough
to keep out of danger if they could see it. Father said that might be very true,
and yet his horses had been broken in with blinders, and didn't I think they
would be inclined to shy if he took them off; and wouldn't they be frightened to
look around and see the wagon wheels so near. I told him that for every accident
that happened to a horse without blinders, several happened to a horse with
them; and then I gave him Mr. Wood's opinion Mr. Wood out at Dingley Farm. He
says that the worst thing against blinders is that a frightened horse never
knows when he has passed the thing that scared him. He always thinks it is
behind him. The blinders are there and he can't see that he has passed it, and
he can't turn his head to have a good look at it. So often he goes tearing madly
on; and sometimes lives are lost all on account of a little bit of leather
fastened over a beautiful eye that ought to look out full and free at the world.
That finished father. He said he'd take off his blinders, and if he had an
accident, he'd send the bill for damages to Mr. Wood. But we've had no accident.
The horses did act rather queerly at first, and started a little; but they soon
got over it, and now they go as steady without blinders as they ever did with
them."
The boy sat down, and the president said: "I think it is time that the whole
nation threw off this foolishness of half covering their