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"That dog must be very old!" said somebody; and yet she had seen two springs only.

A whole year passed, the winter was a very hard one, very long and very cold. We were in Italy, so our poor friends remained at Krasna Gorka under the care of Ivan.

It was only towards the end of May that we were once more among them. Our reception was most noisy and demonstrative, only Koula, the spoilt child of our hearts, was missing.

"Is she dead?" I asked the huntsman, anxiously.

"Oh no, but she is hiding herself away, the jade! She must have got puppies, and the little fool does not want them to be killed."

Ivan had a spite against the pretty wolfhound, because he had heard that we had blamed him

on her account.

The dinner, which was to be well attended, was fixed for six o'clock. It was almost time to think of dressing. My little maid, Donnia, told me that the bath was ready in the little copse of cherry trees, which formed a charming spot in the old park. No one had quite been able to explain how this little

taken off my dusty, travel-stained dress; Donnia had brought me a red sarafan, richly embroidered, the work of poor peasants on our land. I was to wear it when I went indoors to my own room to dress for the evening. She handed it to me hurriedly, being scared by the sound of approaching footsteps.

"No one would dare to come here," we both said. But we were both afraid, nevertheless. The steps drew nearer, suddenly the branches opened, Koula sprang joyously towards me, whining with pleasure. As for me, I fairly did shed tears as I put my arms round her. Donnia looked on astonished, and appeared to be musing. "It is strange! She seems to want to tell you a great deal."

Nor was she wrong. Koula did want to confide pleasant secrets to me. She

IN THE THICKET.

plantation of cherry trees had grown up among the oaks, alders and poplars. In the good old times lovers used to come there, to sit on an old worm-eaten seat close by; in the cherry season they used to eat the fruit and fling the kernels into the water. They were full of sap, and their growth was hardy and beautiful, as is that of all trees that come up of themselves. The sight of them was a pleasure as is that of all things animate or inanimate, provided they are of a healthy and of a joyous nature.

We threw our clothes over the smaller trees, more like bushes than trees. An immense bath of red copper was there, filled with clear water, wherein played and sparkled the lovely rays of the May sun. A slight noise was heard. You might have taken it for the tread of a deer. I had just

seemed to be asking me to come with her. I went, telling the girl to stay by the bath, for no one was to share the mystery about to be confided to me. I followed a long, long way; every now and then Koula disappeared, and then came back, as if to show me the way. At last we came to a thicket, from which issued sweet,

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plaintive sounds, seeming to call us. There they were, all five of them, all handsome, full of life, and already like their mother.

I knelt down and kissed them one after another, on their pretty silky foreheads, scented with the sweet smell of the forest. Koula looked on with emotion, and not being able to get at my face, by reason of my broad-brimmed summer hat, contented herself with licking the flowers in it instead. The intelligent creature had burrowed a hole and hidden her new-born puppies, and had kept them there out of sight ever since. She had become frightfully thin, for of course she got none of the food that was prepared for the other dogs.

From this time I always brought her food myself, late at night in order not to be seen. I went with a beating heart, for our park is reputed to be full of ghosts,

every kind of phantom is to be found there. The ghost of an unbaptized child, buried under a pink acacia, is visible, they say, on moonlight nights, and appears on the branches of that same tree. The daughter of a priest, who hanged herself from one of the oldest of the oak trees, will wander through the paths on a stormy night, with dress floating free of the ground, while her blood-red hair hangs over her face, and she utters incomprehensible words in so sad a voice that many have died from merely meeting her. A poor German musicmaster, gone mad with love, who drowned himself in the pond at the end of the park, often appears, too, with a lyre in his hand, from which he draws such plaintive strains that he who hears them can never forget the sound, and becomes a prey to melancholy for the rest of his days. All these dangers had to be faced, with no hope of flight, with an immense bowl in my hands. I prayed to God the whole time, but such. lively terrors possessed me that several times I was on the point of returning to the house with Koula's supper. However, I succeeded in conquering my horrors, and the phantoms spared me. Neither the drowned musician, nor the poor girl with

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blood-red hair, nor the child whose soul could not rest, turned up.

A colonel in the Preobvajiensky regiment, a handsome man, paid assiduous court to me. He had a special gift for boring me, and I avoided him as much as I could, till-I was happily inspired to let him into "our" secret, over and over again wringing from him his word of honour to keep it sacred. From that time it was the handsome and elegant colonel who carried the bowl. I trotted by his side, trying to amuse him and turn his mind from contemplating how much this vulgar task clashed with the tender programme which he had been pleased to lay down.

"Coming back you will take my arm!' he said, sentimentally, the first time we went. But when we came back there was yesterday's dish to be carried, and so the arm I was to take was occupied.

For some time he submitted heroically to this trial, but finally his love succumbed. He bade me adieu and departed, never to return. What did that matter now? My poor Koula's babies were getting quite big by this time, and she took her meals with them out of the great wooden dish with the other dogs.

(Rendered into English by EDITH CARRINGTON.)

The Destruction of

BY JOSEPH COLLINSON.

IRD destruction goes on apace. A specimen of the hoopoe-a lovely creature-it is recorded, has recently fallen a victim to the murderous aim" of the collector. It was shot by the Rev. R. T. Gardner, at Garstang, Lancashire, on September 29th, 1896. When a clergyman shoots down rare birds one can scarcely wonder that other people who do not profess to be so good do the same. Commenting on this case, the Yorkshire Weekly Post, a Church and State paper, says: "Such an announcement is enough to make the great and good Gilbert White of Yorkshire', turn in his grave, and cannot fail to give deep pain to every humane person and lover of rare and beautiful birds." A sentiment with which I heartily agree.

The following are a few typical cases of bird destruction which have occurred during a period of about twelve months,*

Osprey or sea-eagle, shot at Newton-le-Willows on September 16th; long-eared owl, fine example, taken in Kirkcudbright, N.B., Newcastle Weekly Chronicle, November 14th; rough-legged buzzard, shot within a mile of Nunburnholme, Yorkshire, Standard, Decem

From December 1895 to January 1897.

Rare Birds.

ber 14th; hoopoe captured and killed near Bondicar on September 5th; golden eagle killed in Sutherlandshire, Christian World, October 8th; peregrine falcon captured at Soraba Island, Oban, on March 3rd, blacktailed godwit, greenshank, ruff, and spotted redshank, obtained rear Spurn Point on September 7th and 8th; two fine examples of the little tern procured near Marske-by-the-Sea on August 28th; broadbilled sandpiper captured between Littlestone-onSea and Dungeness, Ornithologist, October; stormy petrel procured near St. Mary's Island on October 14th; snipe (gallinago major), shot on the moor above Romaldkirk, Teesdale, on September 30th-another specimen of this rare species was taken near Flamborough on September 9th; aquatic warbler taken at Blakeney, Norfolk, Newcastle Weekly Chronicle, October 10th; peregrine falcon shot at Dunston Haughs on February 24th; golden eagle, "fine specimen," taken near Oban, Oban Times, March 21st; nightingale shot in Raincliffe and Hackness Woods, Scarborough, Yorkshire Weekly Post, July 27th; two night jars captured in the vicinity of Wooler, Northumberland, Newcastle Weekly Chronicle, June 20th; little bustard taken at Holderness in the last week in December, 1895, Naturalist; a pied variety of the moorhen, a female great buzzard, short-ear owl (two specimens), a peregrine falcon, and upwards of a dozen green woodpeckers, were taken in various parts of Bedfordshire, Echo, September 22nd; white-tailed

eagle shot in Armesley Park, Nottingham, on November 23rd; fine example of Sabine's gull procured in Kent on October 7th; pomathorine skua taken at Marske on October 12th; cream-coloured courser shot on Salisbury Plain, at Earlstoke, on October 19th; Macqueen's bustard. shot at Easington, in Holderness, on October 17th; great bittern shot a short time ago at Shadoxhurst, Kent, Newcastle Weekly Chronicle, January 2nd, 1897.

The means in operation for the protection of the casual feathered visitors to this country, and of the rarer, and, therefore, more valuable birds, is clearly ineffectual. The ineradicable instinct of the average man, whenever he sees a rare or beautiful bird, is to shoot it, and the upshot of that hateful mania is that many species of birds have become extinct. The selfishness of the man who deliberately kills a rare bird whenever he gets a chance cannot be described in words strong enough. The chief sinners in this respect are the (so-called) naturalists and the game-keepers, both of whose reasons are obvious enough. Other causes are, of course, at work changing the aspect of the bird population of this countryincrease of cultivation, destruction of hedges, drainage of land, increase of factories and growth of towns; but the cause of all, in comparison with which all other causes put together sink into insignificance, is the wholesale netting, trapping, and slaughtering which are permitted, together with the collecting mania of the amateur "naturalist," and the selfish work of the game preserver. large number of birds have become extinct as breeding species during the present century; and others are vanishing.

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In view of the fact that the dangerous lunatics who destroy the birds remain at large,

despite criticism and ridicule, and in the face of protest upon protest from all quarters, it is again necessary to repeat the suggestions offered by the Humanitarian League as to the best way in which County Councils can make use of the powers given them by the Wild Birds' Protection Act of 1894, as follows:

(1) All protection which mentions particular species of birds is unsatisfactory, because some valuable species are sure to be omitted, and no protection is given to casual visitors. (2) All birds, without exception, are of some use in the economy of nature, and their destruction will probably result in a loss to the community. (3) If all cannot be protected the right principle is to make the law general in terms, and enumerate just those species which are to be outside the pale of protection, not those which are to be within it.

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In the early part of 1896 was published an appeal to the various County Councils in Great Britain to make full use of the powers which the legislature has given them for the protection of wild birds. The appeal produced a good impression, and was widely noticed in the general press. Among the papers which gave publicity to the appeal may be mentioned, the Weekly Graphic, Clarion, Local Government Journal, Spinning Wheel, Farm and Home, Shafts, Yorkshire Post, Newcastle Chronicle, Cumberland. Advertiser, Kidderminster Shuttle, Herne Bay Argus, Hereford Times, Manchester Courier, Newcastle Courant, Echo, Daylight, Islington Gazette, Brixtonian, Manchester Guardian, Birmingham Weekly Mercury, Bristol Mercury, Middlesex Courier, Police Review, Devon and Exeter Daily Gazette, Rod and Gun, Newcastle Daily Leader.

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The Hoopoe.

BY EDITH CARRINGTON.

HIS foreign gentleman, often in difficulties, lives in Egypt when he is at home, but wanders as far north as the Hebrides. He is about as big as a missel thrush, and gets his name from the tuft on his head (French, huppe, tufted), or as some say, from the Italian bubela, a name imitative of its cry. An insectivorous bird, this fine fellow picks up small fry of all sorts, after the manner of a starling, on the ground, never feeding in trees, but "marching about in a stately manner,' according to old Gilbert White, in whose premises a pair of these strangers seemed disposed to build in 1776. They were, however, driven off by mischievous boys. Frank Buckland records that a second pair seemed inclined to favour Gospel Oak field, Hampstead, some years later, but were, of course, shot. From that time to this, waifs and strays of the race have now and then thrown themselves on the hospitality of John Bull, to meet with the same warm reception. It is plain that England won't have the hoopoe, although Mother

Nature, always anxious to fill a gap, sends out her spies now and then to see what report of the land can be brought up, and whether we have reformed our murderous manners or not. Ploughed lands, pasture grounds, and muddy places by streams are the favourite spots for the hoopoe, and he makes a nest out of rather unsavoury materials, according to some, in a hollow tree. Cow-dung is a lining for it, so say certain naturalists; others think that the hoopoe uses grass, feathers, and decayed wood for his bedding. The eggs are said to be from two to five. Through the cruel wantonness or selfish greed which chases the hoopoe away, we lose a valuable addition to snail, slug, and grub-eating birds, and also a fine ornament to our fields.

Were a few pairs of this bird allowed to breed in peace, their children would return to the same spot for nesting in their turn, and a colony be quickly established. But it is a large but-Can the Englishman bear to observe without destroying!

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"A Hoopoe, a bird almost extinct in these islands, was seen and shot by a clergyman in Lancashire recently."-The Yorkshire Weekly Post."

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HUCKLEBERRY FINN (loquitur):-"The moment Tom begun to talk about birds I judged he was a goner, because Jim knowed more about birds than both of us put together. You see, he had killed hundreds and hundreds of them, and that's the way to find out about birds. That's the way that people does that writes books about birds, and loves them so that they'll go hungry and tired and take any amount of trouble to find a new bird and kill it. Their name is ornithologers, and I could 'a' been an ornithologer myself, because I always loved birds and creatures; and I started out to learn how to be one, and I see a bird sitting on a dead limb of a tree singing, with his head tilted back and his mouth open, and before I thought I fired, and his song stopped, and he fell straight down from the limb, all limp like a rag, and I run and picked him up, and he was dead, and his body was warm in my hand, and his head rolled about, this way and that, like his neck was broken, and there was a white skin over his eyes, and one little drop of blood on the side of his head, and laws! I couldn't see nothing more for the tears; and I hain't ever murdered no creature since that warn't doing me no harm, and I ain't going to."-MARK TWAIN.

Our Allies

and Auxiliaries.—T

THE NEWTON ABBOT S.P.C.A.

BY CAPTAIN QUINTANILHA.

GLADLY comply with your request to send you a short account of the Newton Abbot (Devon) Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, for publication in the Animals' Friend. Full details of its work, during the year 1895, having recently appeared in your beautiful magazine, there is little to be added now. It was started eleven years ago, at the end of 1885, as an Auxiliary Society, but soon established itself on the footing of an independent organization, and has ever since steadily progressed in its useful career. It is also an anti-vivisection society, and, although, by its uncompromising attitude, it lost at one time a few lukewarm subscribers, it has gained, on the other hand, new and firmer adherents and supporters in the district, and is being further strengthened by the warm approval of other friends and sympathizers throughout the country. Our work is to prevent general cruelty, and to educate people on the various forms of existing cruelty. Our preventive work is carried on in this large market and residential town, and in a great number of surrounding parishes, covering an area of many miles. We employ an officer, and we warn some and summon other offenders. In fact every creature which is protected by law is protected by us so far as resources will permit. But because we locally protect domestic animals declared by statute to be under the protection of the law of the country, we go one step farthera logical step, I submit-and we say that what is reprehensible in a poor, or ignorant or brutal man or woman, is equally so in the case of more refined and educated persons.

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Such a design would be, to my mind, a violation of the very rudimentary laws of humanity, which He, in His great mercy, has implanted in our hearts, and which vivisectors themselves, by a strange aberration or mental obliquity, invoke as an argument in favour of their diabolical performances in physiological laboratories. They allege inestimable benefits to mankind derived from vivisection, but the glaring fact remains that all the great diseases which afflict mankind, the most loathsome among them being only found in men, never in animals, are, in spite of the vaunted virtues of vivisection, still pronounced incurable. Are vivisectors quite sure that the few and comparatively trivial results from vivisection,

CAPT. QUINTANILHA.

"Speaking last month at Newton Abbot, Captain Quintanilha summed up our main contention in a nutshell. He said: To some people it was enough to be told that Vivisection was for the good of human beings to make it at once acceptable and defensible, but he begged to differ from such, for he believed that in human affairs no real good could be obtained except by righteous and godly means, and Vivisection was neither."-The Zoophilist, June 1st, 1893.

With my individual views about vivisection many of your readers are possibly unacquainted. For their information, then, I say I cannot be reconciled to vivisection. I have always denounced it as a nefarious practice, and a tyranny of a cruel and cowardly character. I hold it in utter detestation, because, like all cruelty, it is most demoralizing; and I feel absolutely convinced that God never designed that animals should be dissected alive and tortured for the benefit of human beings.

which they magnify into great discoveries, could not have been otherwise obtained? Eminent medical men, at one time vivisectors themselves, and staunch supporters of vivisection, now come forward and emphatically declare that vivisection, like blood-letting and other medical fallacies long exploded, is a miserable failure, that it is useless, and that the results obtained from it are not applicable to human beings. Of what use is vivisection then? Why is it not totally abolished?

Medicine is a humane science. Though to a great extent conjectural, it should be studied and pursued humanely, that is, by humane means, and never by heartless and revolting methods, which are repugnant alike to reason and to the higher and better feelings of our

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nature.

As to "compromising" in the matter of vivisection, I will say but a few words in conclusion. I do not believe in the sincerity of any man or woman who, whilst professing to love animals, to feel for them, and to protect them from ill-usage or cruel treatment, overlooks or condones the horrors of vivisection. Such a "lover" of animals recalls to mind the false mother in the "Judgment of Solomon." She also was willing to "compromise," and would have no doubt succeeded in her fiendish design, but for the uncompromising cry of maternal love, and the righteous verdict of a just king.

Devonia Lodge, Newton Abbot, Devon,
January, 1897.

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