Our Fourfooted Friends



Entered at the Boston Post Office as Second Class Matter




CONTENTS Lights and Shadows of Humane Work . . . 2 Care of Our Useful Friends. . . . . . 5 Stories for Old and Young . . . oe se Humane Rducation coe eae League News and Notes . . . . . . . 12

ON THE FARM. T. E. M. and G. F. White.



The Humane Education Committee of the Erie County S. P. C. A. offer prizes for the best “essays- written by school children. teachers are asked to send to the chairman of the committee, Miss Margaret F. Rochester, one essay from each grade. | 3

The subjects chosen are so good they might be copied in other cities for the same use. We can give only a few of them here, but the circu- lar can be obtained by writing to headquarters, 36 West Huron Street, Buffalo, N. Y.

for humanity’’; ‘‘The Bell of Atri, by Longfellow —A plea for justice’; ‘‘Birds: What they do for us’; ‘‘The Horse: How does he serve man?”’ “A letter from a pet animal to its mistress telling how it likes to be treated. Emphasize the need of proper food, shelter, exercise, sym-


We have received a remarkably interesting

report from the Humane Society of Kansas City, Missouri. This is a special report giving in detail the account of a new, sanitary drinking fountain erected and dedicated in May, 1910. The speeches by prominent men are all given and a careful description of the way. the foun- tain is designed to prevent any risk of disease germs lodging on the rim or inside the bowl. Horses, smaller animals and birds were all remembered in the dedication services. Edwin R. Weeks, president of the Society, was the designer of the fountain. .wThis Humane Society has a committee ap- pointed to manage an ‘‘Animals’ Rescue Home.”’ Mrs. W. D. Snyder, chairman of this committee, is one of the correspondents and friends of the Boston Animal Rescue League.

Mr. A. Melzer of Evansville, Indiana, who is constantly working-in behalf of suffering an- imals, complains that the anti-cruelty laws on the statute books are “indefinite, insufficient,


The. Birds of Killingworth, by Longfellow—A plea:

Our Fourfooted Friends

and inconsistent.’ He calls attention to the facts that any thoughtful, fair-minded person must acknowledge. He says:

“‘Our anti-cruelty laws are inoue in that they do not provide against many forms of cruelty and neglect. For instance, it is safe to say that one-half of our horses, cows, and other

‘animals are housed in uncomfortable, unventi-

lated, filthy and generally unsanitary sheds and stables, an inspection of which would reveal con- ditions difficult to describe in words: conditions under which those animals must contract tuberculosis and other diseases, which in turn are communicated to man, through the flesh or milk of such animals, or through the flies and

-micro-organisms that are bred and that flourish

in those stables.

‘‘Everyone here has also seen in our streets, horses reined up high with over-head check- reins, in a manner leaving no doubt in his mind that those horses were tortured by the unnatural and painful position in which they were com- pelled to carry their heads by the straps, cruel bits, surcingles, cruppers, blinders, and other unnecessary trappings and paraphernalia; yet no one is punished for this form of cruelty to animals, and it is very questionable whether they could be under our present laws.

‘Our laws are deficient, in that they do not provide against working an emaciated, sore, lame, sick, or otherwise unfitted horse or mule, and-our laws say nothing about the condition of the harness, condition of the horse’s shoeing and condition of the vehicle. |

‘The laws also say nothing about the number of hours per day or the number of days per week that a horse may be worked, or the length of time that a horse may be left tied:to a post or fence without water, food, and protection, whilst the owner is enjoying the show, the church music and sermon about ‘blessed are the merciful,’ or whilst he is painting the town red.

“Our State laws enumerate half dozen kinds of animals that it is unlawful to injure or kill maliciously by poison or other means, but omit the animal which is practically the only one that is maliciously killed by poison or other means. That animal is the dog, the most faithful friend of man,”

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**Lady Theo.’

“When the expressman who brought ‘Lady Theo’ from Boston to us had accommodatingly

taken off the cover of the crate, the assembled

family sat back and gasped at the strange little doggie that climbed out of the opening. Her body was so long, her legs so short and her black coat so glossy—a well-bred cocker spaniel, and from that very moment her reign over our household commenced.

‘An intimate friend who knows her well says ‘she is the most human dog I ever knew,’ and that describes her exactly.

“She knows each member of the family by name and when asked ‘Where is pa?’ looks in the direction of her master or runs to him and paws his knee. She knows when her worshipful one goes away in a trolley car or automobile and never makes the mistake of watching for one when he is away in either of the other men- tioned conveyances.

“Our next door neighbors are not fond of dogs so Theo has been taught that she must never stray over on the adjoining lawn. It is very seldom that she forgets, but, if she does, a tap on the window and a beckoning hand is all

that is needed to bring her scrambling back. It is pretty hard when she sees us sitting over there, so she goes to the pathway that leads to the door, sits down and waits patiently for us. “She furnishes us with so much amusement. She absolutely refuses to go to bed without something in her mouth and, taking her stand near the cracker-box, stays there until she is given one, but she is just as delighted with a bread crust as a piece of cake, and has been known to cherish a chicken foot for days to keep her company all night, bringing it up in the morning to display to her admiring relatives, and then burying it until bed-time again. We have only to ask her in a conversational tone, ‘Where is your bone?’ to have her dig up any- thing she has stored away in the garden. But her bath is such a trial to her ladyship. ‘Theo do you want to be washed?’ is a signal for her to climb into her bed and keep as still as a mouse and when lifted out she is ten pounds heavier than ordinarily. We have had several dogs, but for companionship and intelligence she stands at the head. One might write a fair- sized book with this dainty little lady as a heroine.’’—O. M. 5., Essex Junction, Vermont.

“George Washington Admiral Dewey.”’

The above illustrious, combined names in this instance is the cognomen of a cat,—one that is very black and glossy, with a neat white collar but- ton under his chin, and he answers to either one of his names. His eyes are a lovely green, with a glint of amber in them, and if an English sparrow crosses their line of vision they enlarge greatly, as he bears a strong antipathy to those birds.

Perhaps on seeing him you would call him a very

‘ordinary cat, but we who know his history style

him a very extraordinary one. He was picked up in the street, encased in mud, more dead than alive and presumably about two months old, by a little boy of four years, who took him to his mother to resuscitate if possible. She gave him a warm bath, fed him warm milk from a tiny spoon, removed a cigar stub from each ear (the work of some cruel boy), wrapped him in a baby’s blanket and kept him quiet.

He was many times fed, bathed and kept warm before her efforts in his behalf were rewarded with

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a song, and at first it was not grand opera, but just a feeble little purr. In about ten daysG.W.A.D. began to realize the joy of living, and his pretty, graceful antics with a ball and string and his flying leaps through a hoop were a delight to the boy who rescued him.

That boy is now eighteen years of age, and the cat, now fourteen, is still a member of the same family, showing no more his weight of years than our renowned Sara. He performs a pretty little trick daily, of meeting his master and rolling over on his side to receive a \ Miss Ophelia”’ cuffing, and immediately turning the other side for the same.

A change of residence was made about two years ago, and George was so seriously affected with heimweh we feared he had reached his ninth chance. He grieved for his happy hunting places, until he became familiar with new ones. He never disturbs our slumbers except on Sunday morning, when he will call at each bedroom door until answered from within. His pedigree is unknown, but we judge he is a scion of the F. F. M.’s(First Felines of Mas- sachusetts), for he has ever displayed high courage and has fought many battles. Like his namesakes, he always routed the enemy and came off with hon- ors, and we can truthfully say he is the © Father of his Country”? around Lexington Terrace. After a full meal of chips from the top of the round, a nappy of cream and a roll in his odorous catnip, he will sing a sweet song, fold his black hands under his breast, and with eyes half closed sits and thinks; and who can tell if he is not thanking God in his heart for his good home and its manifold blessings,— can your— A.M. A.

The Woman and the Dog.

A crowd gathered to watch a handsome fox terrier that was running about, nose in air. White froth was running from the dog’s mouth.

‘‘He’s mad,” yelled a fat man.

The fox terrier stood in the center of the group, with wide-opened eyes, either too mad or too frightened to move.

At this juncture the policeman arrived. A dozen voices began to tell him that the dog was mad; that it must be killed; that it had been snapping at the children; that it began to froth

when it passed a pool of water, and how best to shoot.

A tall, quiet-looking woman pushed through the crowd and, started toward the dog. A dozen men yelled at her, two or three men grabbed at her. She picked the dog up and started out of the crowd. The police- man stopped her with:

‘“‘Madam, that dog is mad. He must be shot. Look at the jos¢ nog RESTORED TO foam coming out of his HIS OWNER. - mouth.”’

“Foam,” she said contemptuously, “that’s a cream puff he was eating.’’— St. Louis Post- Dispatch.

A Famous Fish.

Pelorus Jack is the best-known fish in the world, and it is claimed that he has been well known to sea-faring men in Cook Strait for some thirty-five years. He meets practically all steamers on the Nelson-Wellington run, by day and night, and escorts them from five to ten miles. If two steamers meet he leaves the one he is attending and escorts the other. If two are proceeding in the same direction, he accom- panies one for some distance, then goes back to wait upon the other. This, as we have noticed, he is said to have done for some thirty-five years. He has been shot at on numerous occasions, but the New Zealand Government, by an order in council, in September, 1904, ordered that he should be protected for the next five years. In May of 1906 he was again specially protected by Clause 46 of the Fisheries Regulations; so he is now immune until May, 1911. He would have been guarded before, but it was found difficult to determine his species. He is now classed as a Grampus Griseus, or Risso’s Dolphin, but his color instead of being chocolate brown is slaty white. He is between fourteen and sixteen feet in length.— Boston Transcript.

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The Story of My Life.

For obvious reasons my memory does not serve me until I found myself one day in the Animal Rescue League rooms on Carver Street about three years ago.

My first recollection of that place was lots of dogs and people, of a good bed and plenty to eat and a gentle pat now and then.

One day a young man came to the home and looked us all over and chose me—why, I don’t know, because I had killed a little dog that very day that I thought was going out before me and so, of course, I started life anew with a bad name.

I was taken to what was to be my home, where my new master gave me such a supper and bath as I shall never forget, and I distinctly remember of his putting me into a Morris chair to bed (needless to say I have appropriated it ever since).

The next day he took me for a long ride on the train and at the end of this journey I found three

other dogs. After a few days we were good friends and when

we came home in the fall the two old dogs died, so now just Joe (a pug) andI remain. I wish I could tell you of all the kind things my missus does for me, but here are just a few: She is very careful to give me all the fresh water I want, gives me a bath every week, talks to me a great deal so I'll be in- telligent, she says; I have beautiful blue bows on my collar, a coat for winter and a nice bed of ex- celsior.

It wouldn’t be nice of me to tell you all the things she says about me, but I did hear her say that she knew of a number of Animal Rescue League dogs and all their people said they were the brightest, keenest dogs they had ever had.

I tell you, it pays to be good. I have tried so hard to live a good dog’s life and have never gotten ‘into a fight but once since coming to Lawrence, so now my mistress dares to take me out with her and we do have such splendid tramps together!

My people are great croquet fiends and so I am, of course. One day I rolled one of the balls down the bank and couldn’t get it, but when my missus came in sight I ran up to her and then back to the wall and looked down at the ball. She thought that was the smartest thing a dog ever did; do you?

I could keep on telling you ever so much that has happened in the last three years, but I won’t

this time, but I do wish that every dog that goes into the League could be taken out into a home like mine. I am so happy! Colonel.

Sent by his mistress, Mrs. Howard Clarke Davis, Law-

rence, Mass. Colonel’s photograph appeared in the Novem- ber number of Our Fourfooted Friends.



A Winter Song.

All snug and warm, Safe from the storm, The kine in sheltered stalls are lowing ; And here we find Their keeper kind, A wealth of care and feed bestowing.

No angry word Nor shout is heard; A kick or cuff is here a stranger. Their knee-deep beds Of straw he spreads; Fair measure fills each trough and manger.

He pets them all, From stall to stall ; And while he sings and whistles gayly, With stool and pails, He never fails To reap a goodly harvest daily.

Though snow and sleet May swirl and beat, While wintry winds are rudely blowing Warmth, care and feed Meet every need, And fill the pail to overflowing.

—FKarm Fournal,

I sang in total blackness. My song rose from the cheerless shade and was the first to rise. It is when Night prevails that it’s fine to believe in the Light. —Chantecler.

Blackbird, do you know the one thing upon earth worthy that one should live wholly for its sake? That thing is effort, Blackbird,— effort, which uplifts and ennobles the lowest . .. and that fragile, roseate snail struggling unaided to sil- ver over a whole fagot, I honor !— Chantecler.

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Abolish Spring Shooting and Save the Birds.

The continent of North America, over which unnumbered millions of water fowl once swarmed is being rapidly depleted of these feathered races.

When the Pilgrim fathers came to Plymouth the numbers of wild fowl on this continent probably exceeded those of any other country. Enormous flocks frequented the bays, harbors, rivers {and lakes of New England. The har- bors of Newburyport, Salem, Lynn, Boston, and other cities, and the waters of Narragansett and Buzzards Bays and Long Island Sound, were crowded with fowl in their seasons, some of which are extinct today and many of which are now rarely, if ever seen.

Many of the fresh-water wild fowl are now on their way to extinction, and others have de- creased from 50 to 90 per cent within the mem- ory of living men. Lakes and rivers that teemed with water fowl fifty to seventy-five years ago are practically deserted, and there are now no considerable numbers of wild fowl seen except at sea, or at a certain point along the coast.

This great decrease in numbers and threatened extinction has been due largely to the market hunting and spring shooting which have accom- panied settlement, also to the continual moles- tations of the birds upon their feeding and breed- ing grounds, as well as to the draining of marshes and swamps where the birds formerly bred.

The great and constantly increasing number of sportsmen and market hunters, together with the improvements in firearms, have had their logical effect. The people have been allowed to shoot without restraint, as, until recent years there has been absolutely no attempt to protect the birds and there is very little protection granted them now. The wild fowl that have decreased most rapidly and are of the greatest economic importance comprise nineteen species that breed normally in the United States.

In February or March the birds are mating or mated and often the ovary of the female con- tains eggs in process of development. Never- theless at this season some gunners consider it excellent sport to kill them because if one bird of a pair be shot, the-other will come back to its dead mate and the gunner can easily get both.

The killing of wild ducks and geese in March, April, and May is an outrage, which should no longer be tolerated in any civilized community. At this season the birds are intent on reproduc- tion. They are either on their breeding grounds, or on the way there. Nearly every female that has survived the perils of fall and winter has within her ovary eight to twelve or more develop- ing eggs. Most species nest in April and May. Shooting in spring either destroys the naturally selected breeding stock and its prospective in- crease or drives the birds away from their nest- ing places. Pot-hunters who are out after ducks that may be legally shot in April and May, shoot nesting black ducks and wood ducks without mercy. Spring shooting has exterminated or driven out most of the water fowl that formerly bred in this State. How much longer will an enlightened people tolerate this abuse?

Red Cross Dogs.

Dr. Derland who is training a squad of in- telligent dogs for Red Cross work in the French army, is quoted in the Kansas City Star as saying:

The Red Cross dogs recognize no authority except that of a uniformed doctor with a red cross on his arm. They will not obey a com- mand that is given by an officer in uniform if the red cross is not on his sleeve. A stranger can put on the doctor’s uniform with the band, and instantly the dog greets him as a master.

The dogs are trained in two different ways. One set is taught never to bark when a wounded soldier is discovered, for fear of exciting the sick or drawing the attention of the enemy who might slaughter even the fallen. The dog will wrestle and pull until he gets the soldier’s cap in his mouth. Then he rushes back to the camp, giving up his capture as a sign that a soldier in distress has been found. Another set, however, gives the alarm by short, but regular howls, sounds which guide the medical corps to the spot where the wounded lie.

In maneuvers, the ‘‘wounded” soldier hides in tall grass or deep down in a ravine far from the temporary camp. One of the dogs is brought. out for the test of finding him. He sniffs the air, listens to the wind, and then suddenly goes

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forward, first this way and then that—swinging from side to side like an unsteady ship at sea— nostrils quivering and eyes dilated: After a momentary hesitation he is off, and after a short wait the astute animal is seen afar off bearing the red cap in his mouth. He singles out the doctor and places the cap at his feet. The doctor attaches a leash to him and the dog leads him to the hidden man.

The dogs are taught never to scent out the dead. It is their duty to find the living, but if a soldier is able to stand erect, no amount of coaxing will bring the dog within reach for the purpose of securing the liquor that may be strapped on him. The soldier must lie flat on the ground, to all appearances unable to rise, before the dog will pay any attention to him.— Newark News.



A Mother Kills a Mother.

There is an account in a Boston paper saying that a woman who recently came to Boston from Costa Rica has been on a shooting expedition with her two sons. During this expedition she suc- ceeded in securing a baby tiger. When the mother tiger, desperate at this theft of her little one, came after the woman who robbed her, in the hope of rescuing her young, this woman, who was a mother herself, after two shots killed the tiger, who gave up her life in a vain attempt to save her offspring.

As for the poor baby tiger, they tied it with ropes to prevent it from struggling, and the rope that was fastened about its neck caused strangulation,

* so it fortunately died.

_ It is said that the woman who performed this brave (?) act recently lost seven of her family by an earthquake. It does not seem possible that she ever lost a child. If she had, one would have hardly thought her capable of robbing even a poor wild animal of its only baby, shooting the mother because she tried to save it and strangling the little one to end the tragedy.

It is bad enough for men to enjoy killing, but when it comes to women,—Heaven help us all if

the next generation inherit such bloodthirsty and savage instincts!

About Trapping.

As I have had many persons asking me to give them the laws relating to setting of traps, I will reply by publishing the following letter received in response to my request for ‘such information. It will be observed that there is a law relating to private grounds. It therefore remains for those who are anxious to put a stop to the very cruel custom of setting traps, to remonstrate with these land owners and try to convince them of the cruelty. Incidentally, the dog and cat owners have their own duty to perform in keeping their animals away from their neighbors’ hens. | Mrs. Huntington Smith, President Animal

Rescue League, Boston, Mass.

“My dear Mrs. Smith,—I beg to acknowledge the receipt of your favor of the 7th inst. and_in response permit me to say,—I know of no law which prohibits the setting of traps for: the purpose of catching wild animals. This prac- tice obtains very largely throughout the state, particularly in the northern portions. Farmers and others derive a large revenue from the sale of furs and skins of fur-bearing animals. It also affords protection against the invasion of ani- mals which destroy their poultry, the loss of which would amount to hundreds of dollars yearly. It is certainly unfortunate that cats, and oftentimes valuable dogs, are caught in these traps, which are situated in some obscure place and so remote that they are visited seldom more than once a day.

“The poultry raisers maintain that their rights shall be respected, and this seems reason- able.

‘‘Allow me to add that there is a provision of law which relates to protection of private land, viz., ‘Whoever for the purpose of shooting or trapping, enters upon land without the per- mission: of the owner thereof, after such owner has conspicuously posted thereon notice that shooting or trapping thereon is prohibited, shall be punished, etc.’

“Permit me to say in closing, we are having a large number of complaints from persons having

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pet cats which are being shot by neighbors having young chickens caught by the cats, and one of our judges refused a summons for a man who had shot the cat on the ground of property rights. Very truly yours,—James R. Hatha- way, Special Agent of the Mass. S. P. C. A.”

Where Monkeys are Happy.

Inasmuch as it is against the principles of the Brahman religion to take the life of any creature, it follows that the people of India are preyed upon and overrun by a great many animals, against which they can make but a feeble and ineffective resistance. The real tyrant of the Hindu people has always been the monkey, which ceaselessly harasses them.

On one occasion, the merchants of Benares, the sacred city of the Ganges, decided that they could endure the depredations of the monkeys no longer. The shops of the city are without doors and windows, and the fruits, grains, and other commodities offered for sale are exposed to the open air. The merchant usually sits watching his wares, but often his attention is diverted from them for a moment, and, more- over, the Benares merchant, having not much to do, and the climate being warm, often nods and sleeps at his door.

The monkeys are always at hand, watching their opportunity. Let the merchant absent himself for an instant, or go off into a nap, and instantly the nimble apes are helping themselves to rice, fruit, cakes, or anything else they fancy. If the merchant wakes suddenly, there is a great scampering, and the thieves are well out of reach before he can lay a hand upon one of them.

On the occasion referred to, the streets of Benares had become so overrun with these im- pudent little plunderers that the merchants held a meeting and decided that something must be done. Inasmuch as their religion forbade them to kill the monkeys, they decided to banish the pests.

A great force of men was organized. The streets were surrounded and invaded, the mon- keys were all captured and placed in cages.

Then they were taken to a large forest at a considerable distance from the city, and freed in

capering army of apes.

the midst of the great trees. They scampered into the branches as if they were having a very good time; and there the merchants left them and returned to their shops, rejoicing that now they could nod in peace.

That evening there was a rare sight in Benares. Into the streets, just at dusk, there came a great They were the monkeys of Benares, who had found their way home from the forest into which they had been banished; and, though they must have been very tired from traveling on foot so long a distance, their joy at reaching home again was so great that they gambolled like a troop of school-children coming home from a picnic.

Being town-bred monkeys, they had not en- joyed country life. Next day they were all at their old posts, raiding the food-shops with re- newed and eager appetites and greatly refreshed impudence.— Harper’s Weekly.

Athletics and Diet.

The Vegetarian Cycling and Athletic Club is doing excellent work in showing to the athletic world that feats requiring great strength and endurance can be done on the humane diet.

The club’s account of itself for the season of 1910 is really a most striking document; the members have during the year, besides beating seven of their own records, achieved splendid successes In open competitions in cycling, walk- ing, swimming, weight-putting, and tennis.

In the Bath Road 100 miles’ cycle race, which is the most popular event of the year, the two fastest riders out of seventy-eight picked cham- pions were vegetarians—Messrs. Grubb and Davey, and the time of the first (four hours fifty minutes fifty seconds ) was fourteen minutes

faster than the fastest recorded time, while Mr. ~~

Davey’s time, about fourteen minutes longer, has only once before been equalled on this course. :

In running, Mr. Voigt carried off the “blue riband”’ of running—the A.A.A. one mile cham- pionship. ?

In walking, Mr. Withers secured first place in seven different events, from one to thirty miles.

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In tennis, Mr. Eustace Miles retained the Amateur Championship for the ninth jtime, his most serious rival being another vegetarian, the Hon. Neville Lytton. .

In swimming, Miss Trusler, who, we are told, is only eighteen years of age, was second fastest lady in the fifteen miles’ swim through London, and beat twenty-eight men out of thirty-five who were in the race.

In weight-lifting Mr. Harwood secured third place in the Championship of the United King- dom.

These facts have a meaning. That the com- paratively small body of young men who adhere to the non-flesh diet can year after year hold their own and beat all previous records in open competition with the much larger body of ordi- nary feeders needs some explanation. Is it the diet that does it? or, if not, what is it? Break- ing athletic records is not perhaps the most im- portant work of life, but it is excellent training in endurance, pluck, and self-denial. When these sports can be carried on, not only without causing suffering to any animal, but with a dis- tinct desire to show how strength and humane- ness are really united, they seem to us to de- serve special recognition and encouragement.

We wish the people that tell us that the posi- tion of England in the world depends on their miserable sports of shooting animals from be- hind hedges, and chasing terrified little victims up and down a river for hours, would conde- scend to look into the vegetarian camp, and “try a fall” with some of our athletic friends. They might learn a good many things, and, amongst others, that a kindly consideration for the feelings of the subhuman creatures is no bar to the highest development of the qualities on which the Englishman prides himself.—Ernest Bell in The Animals’ Friend.

A tag used by the Humane Society of Kansas City, Missouri, has the following excellent paragraph after directions that are given for care of horses: “Kindness toward lower animals is not simply dis- charging a duty to man’s faithful friends and helpers, those patient creatures who always repay love with love and abuse with service; but its exercise pro- motes the growth of those qualities which make man better in all relations of life.’’

Motherly Dogs.

It was my privilege and pleasure the other day to photograph a couple of big Maltese cats who had been raised by a pure-bred fox terrier.

This little dog was unfortunate enough never to be able to have living puppies, so twice she stole kittens from their mothers and nursed and cared for them as lovingly as she would have for her own.

The first kittens she raised were white and the second were pure blue. When people or a strange dog came in the back yard, after the kittens were nearly grown, the terrier would seize one by the neck and drag it into a safe place, and then get the other one and do likewise—after they were so heavy she could not lift them clear of the ground.

I should like to mention another dog whom I admire for his wisdom and kindness of heart. The owners of the dog were going away for a vacation about a month ago and made arrangements with a neighbor, half a block distant, to feed their pets during their absence. The pets consisted of a big brown dog, a little fox terrier puppy, and four or five little motherless kittens.

Every morning the brown dog would go to the neighbor’s house and eat his breakfast, and then return home and fetch the puppy to have his meal, and then make all the necessary trips to assemble the kittens to their breakfast.

When the kittens were given milk the big dog never offered to touch it, maybe considering that it was baby food. The kindly neighbor would gather

10 Our Fourfooted Friends

up the little family and take them home, so the big dog had to do all his serious marching back and forth at supper time again, to the amusement of all the neighbors.

It seems to me the latter is an extraordinary example of sense and goodness, and the dog is worthy everyone’s respect.—Blanche Hammill, Sacramento, Cal.

Animals’ Memories.

It is always interesting to notice how long an animal can remember a person, though I expect their memories vary, as ours do, and some an- imals have better memories than others.

Many are the stories of the faithful and long memories of horses, dogs, parrots, and some of the great wild animals, but this story is a curious and uncommon one. _ I have taken it from home life, as a fact related about the wonderful mem- ory of a calf:

“The gentleman owning this affectionate beast had a little daughter, aged twelve, who from her earliest days showed an intense love of all animals, who in their own way invariably returned her affection. One spring a baby calf arrived, and, as a special treat, the child was allowed to go with the dairymaid night and morning to see it fed, and very quickly a warm attachment sprung up. She called the calf by a special name, Gordon, which he quickly came to recognize, and when he got older and was put out in a field, his little mistress had only to call ‘Gordon, Gordon’ when he would at once run up to her to be petted and played with. But when Gordon was about six months old the child was sent away to a boarding-school in a far- distant city, and it was not till nearly ten months later, at the summer vacation, when she re- turned. Next morning her first thoughts were all for her former pets. ‘Run out and see if Gordon will remember you,’ said her father, laughingly; ‘he has grown a great big fellow now, with horns.’ Gladly the child obeyed, and seeing several animals, cows, horses, and several other new calves in the field, she simply stood outside the gate and called as of old ‘Gordon, Gordon.’ Very quickly one of the beasts raised his head and listened, and then,

seeing his little mistress once again, came gal- loping to meet her, with every sign of joy, and what I best describe as low ‘gurgles’ of pleasure from deep down in his throat. During the holi- days, the child daily visited her pet, and their friendship was as firm as ever; but, alas, they had again to part, and she returned to school.

“The following year exactly the same thing occurred. After the continued absence of ten or eleven months, the calf retained all his old love and memory for the child. And now the third year was come, and those who understood the growth of cattle will recognize that Gordon at three and a half years was no longer a calf, but a fully grown bull, with long horns and flerce aspect, so that the child’s father, on her return from school, warned her to be careful, as Gordon had become too old for a playfellow. He had no fear, however, for the child, knowing of old her wonderful power with animals, so did not forbid her going to see him. ‘The little girl, however, made some mistake about Gor- don’s whereabouts, and, going through a very big field—one in which he had never been kept before—she became a little bit frightened when she noticed a huge red bull, standing to stare at her with lowered head. She thought it wisest not to appear to notice, and walked steadily on, hoping to gain the road before he might charge at her. |

‘Soon, however, she saw. him advancing slowly and steadily, and now some men passing on a road some couple of hundred yards off shouted to her to run quickly, as the bull was going for her. For one dreadful moment the poor little maid stood in fear; then something familiar struck her, and, raising her voice, she gently called, ‘Gordon.’ Immediately the huge beast, with tossing tail and rapid trot, ran to- ward her. The men, expecting every moment to see her torn to pieces, shouted and roared, hoping to distract the attention of the beast, but neither child nor bull had ears for them, and one can guess at their astonishment when he began capering in his ungainly fashion round the little girl, who showed as much pleasure and as little fear as if she was playing with a little kitten. After petting and playing with him a little she turned to go, and the bull trotted at

Our Fourfooted Friends WJ

her heels like a great dog, standing at the gate and lowing after her long after she was out of sight.

“It was some months later that Gordon left his early home, and his little mistress never saw him again, but who can help marveling at the truly wonderful memory and affection of this simple beast. In the last case, it will be noticed his recognition of his little mistress came before hers, and he only anxiously awaited the beloved voice to show his joy at her return. And yet some say animals neither think nor care for any- thing beyond their immediate wants.’’—From The Animals’ Friend Supplement.

Bungalow Notes. Pine RIDGE.

Marcu 7. Yesterday we had another snow- storm. The thermometer was only ten above this morning. A generous quantity of bread crumbs and cracked corn has been spread on the bird table, the rockery, and the outside window ledges. When the snowstorms come the birds come in their greatest numbers. When the weather is mild and the snow melts, all the birds, even the English sparrows, come less frequently. The reason is obvious; they evi- dently, when the weather is milder, get plant seeds and such insects as awaken a little to life in the bark of the trees. Our birds take care of themselves when they can and when they can’t they come flocking to us to be fed—a very good principle to go on.

The blue jays are a greedy lot. I watched some of them when we had our last snowstorm literally stuffing themselves from the bread crumbs on the rockery. After eating awhile, two or three of them began to carry off the largest crumbs they could manage to crowd into their mouths. I saw them pick up one crumb after another until their bills were stretch- ed wide open with crumbs. They “‘filled the bill,”’ in actual fact, then flew away to regale themselves at their leisure in some more secluded spot.

1 often see a chickadee or a sparrow dart down and snatch a crumb and fly away with it, but they do not crowd their bills full as the blue


jays do. It is interesting to see one of these birds transfer the crumb in the mouth to one claw, with which they hold it securely and peck at it, often on the bough of some tree within my sight.

Today, for the first time since autumn, | heard the chickadee sing its phoebe song—it was very sweet while it lasted but was soon hushed.

The chickadee, junco, and the nuthatch are now so tame that they fly on the window-ledge and eat the crumbs scattered there.

I went for a walk around the place Saturday afternoon. Before starting out I filled my coat pockets with sugar for the horses and took along with me a large paper bag of stale biscuits, muffins and pieces of bread for the goats.

Old Gray was grazing the dry grass in the