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12 Our Dumb Animals 1 (1879-1880)

handle is hein.journals/animals12 and id is 1 raw text is: v~xmb Ah 1 co SPE:AK 1F'OR i:_01 I would not enter on my list of friends, Though graced with polished manners and fine sense, Yet wanting sensibility, the man 'Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm. - ownper. Vol. 12. BOSTON, JUNE, 1879. No. 1. Song. Hark, how sweet the thrushes sing! Hark, how clear the rohins call! Chorus of the happy spring, Summer's madrigal! Flood the world with joy and cheer, O e birds, and pour your song Till the farthest distance hear Notes so glad and strong! Storm the earth with odors sweet, O ye flowers, that blaze in light! Crowd about June's shining feet, All ye blossoms bright. Shout, ye waters, to the sun Back are winter's fetters hurled; Summer's glory is begun; Beauty holds the world! - Celia Thaxter. The Elephant. A splendid race, second only to man in intelli- gence, and capable of some of the noblest senti- ments, are slaughtered for the beauty of their ivory teeth. Such a frame as that of the elephant, so majestic and finely-constructed by his Maker and ours, made to writhe every fibre of it in death, and left to decay, just for his tooth: it seems as if there must be some mistake about it. And whole tribes of large and small creatures destroyed by the ruthless hunter, and their forsaken young left to perish, in order that gentle Christian women may have their soft furs to wear to church to wor- ship the God who made them and us, and watches over them with the same careful providence, giv- ing them homes, and nurture, and young, and social affections. I will not call it criminal, for it is not so meant. But I trust it is not quite absurd faintly to hope, that the various inhabitants of the hospitable earth may one day be so thoughtful for one another, and come into such friendly relations with each other, as not to feel it necessary or pleas- ant to rob, torment and kill one another so savage- ly for finery, or even for luxury or comfort.-Rev. Dr. Putnam. Rev. Dr. James Walker on Cruelty to Animals and Sportsmen. Cruelty to animals is essentially the same feel- ing with cruelty to a fellow creature, and in some respects it is more unbecoming. Man is a god to the inferior races. To abuse the power which this gives us over the helpless beings that Provi- dence has placed at our mercy, is as mean as it is inhuman. If we would listen to the pleadings of what is noble and generous in our natures, it would be as impossible for us needlessly to harm an un- offending animal, as it would be to strike an infant or an idiot. Shame on the craven who quails before his equals, and then goes away and wreaks his unmanly resentments on a creature which he knows can neither retaliate nor speak! Besides, we may suppose that there are orders of beings above us, as well as below us. Lcok, then, at our treatment of the lower animals, and then ask yourselves what should we think, if a superior order of beings should mete out to us the same measure? What if in mere wantonness, or to pamper unnatural tastes, they should subject us to every imaginable hardship and wrong ? What if they should make a show, a public recre- ation, of our foolish contests and dying agonies ? Nay more; what if it should come to this, that in their language a man-killer should be called a sportsman by way of distinction ? Wild FAfe. From a new hook published by Roberts Brothers, called Wild Life in a Southern County, we give a few extracts. The writer is supposed to be a son of Mr. Jesse, the naturalist, and the book is of the small class, to which belongs White's Selborne. The county is in the South of England. It is a book of thoughtful observations upon all that meets the eye in an out-door life; and especially of the habits of birds and animals. It is for the summer time, and for the older chil- dren of the family, and their elders. THE JOY OF LIFE. The joy in life of these animals-indeed, of almost all animals and birds in freedom-is very great. You may see it in every motion: in the lissom bound of the hare, the playful leap o the rabbit, the song that the lark and the finch must sing: the solt, loving coo of the dove in the haw- thorn; the blackbird ruffling out his feathers on a rail. The sense of living-the consciousness of seeing and feeling-is manifestly intense in them all, and is in itself an exquisite pleasure. Their appetites seem ever fresh: they rush to the ban- quet spread by Mother Earth with a gusto that Lucullus never knew in the midst of his artistic gluttony; the, drink from the stream with dainty sips as though it were richest wine. Watch the birds in the spring; the pairs dance from bough to bough, and know not how to express their wild happiness. The bare rejoices in the swiftness of his limbs: his nostrils sniff the air, his strong sinews spurn the earth; like an arrow from a bow he shoots up the steep hill that we must clamber slowly, halting halt-way to breathe. On out- spread wings the swallow floats above, then slants downwards with a rapid swoop, and with the impetus of the motion rises easily. - p. 10. SONG OF THE STARLING. A starling is on the chimney-top; yonder on the ash tree are four or five oi his acquaintance. Suddenly be begins to pour forth a flood or elo- quence-lacing them as be speaks: Will they come with him down to the field where the cows are grazing ? There will be sure to be plenty of insects settling on the grass round the cows, and every now and then they tear up the herbage by the roots and expose creeping things. Come, you may here him say, modulating his tones to persuasion, come quickly; you see it is a fresh piece of grass into which the cows have been turned only a few hours since; it was too long for us before, but where they have eaten we can get at the ground comfortably. The water-wagtafiis there already; he always accompanies the herd, and will have the pick and choice of every thing. Or what do you say to the meadow by the brook ? The mowers have begun, and the swathe has fallen before their scythes; there are acres of ground there which we could not touch for weeks; now it is open, and the place is teeming with good fbod. The finches are there as busy as may be between the swathes-chnffinch and greenfinch, hedge-sparrow, thrushes, and blackbirds too. Are you afraid? Why, no one shoots in the middle of a summer's day. Still irresolute? (with an angry shrillness). Will you or will you not? (a sharp short whistle of interrogation). You are simply idiots (finishing with a scream of abuse). Im off. -pp. 133 34. JACKDAWS AND INSTINCT. When nesting time is over, jackdaws seem to leave the church and roost with the rooks; they use the tower much as the rooks do their heredi- tary group of trees at a distance from the wood they sleep in at other seasons. How came the jackdaw to make its nest on church towers in the first place? The bird has become so associated with churches that it is difficult to separate the two; yet it is certain that the bird preceded the building. Archeologists tell us that stone build- tc -VO'Ft Irvo , _1fJ

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