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Our Fourfooted Friends

AND HOW WE TREAT THEM

EDITED BY MRS. HUNTINGTON SMITH

VOLUME 7 NUMBER 9 DECEMBER, 1908

Entered at the Boston Post Office as Second Class Matter

PUBLISHED EVERY MONTH BY THE ANIMAL RESCUE LEAGUE

MPPCARVER STREET, BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS

Ss CENTS A COPY BY THE YEAR 50 CENTS TOnr FOREIGN COUNTRIES 75 “CENTS

CONTENTS

Page Page What Humane Workers are Doing....... Pao: VMPELUIMANC ME CUCALION My. nica et. ee eee ( BRI CA CIS ee em Carerou Oiigusetite Hriendscmt ya 2. cues eee 9

THE ADORATION OF THE SHEPHERDS

From a painting by Ghirlanpays

os | Our Fourfooted Friends

WHAT HUMANE

WORKERS ARE DOING

The first Annual Report of the Berkshire Ani- mal Rescue League has just been issued. We should be glad to give the whole of this report, but space will not allow. We touch upon a few of the most interesting points.

The officers of the League have had meetings regularly every month. A special avent has been employed for the Berkshires only, since September first. About one hundred cases have been investigated, counting horses, dogs,and cats and have been rescued from miserable conditions. When incurably affected they. have been merci- fully killed, but when young and healthy with a chance for comfort and happiness, they have been placed in good homes. At the expenditure of thirty dollars six small marble drinking fountains for dogs and cats have been placed at various places in Pittsfield.

A close watch has been kept upon the animals in Berkshire Park, especially the starved and cruelly ill-treated burros, monkeys, parrots, and a poor melancholy bear. The manager of this

park has been earnestly remonstrated with by -

Mrs. Franklin Couch, president of the League, and promised to do better. Two weeks after this remonstrance, Mrs. Couch, in company with the secretary of the League, Mrs..A. F. Bennett, visited the park again and found a marked im- provement in the conditions of all the poor creatures

This League has placed a great deal of humane literature in the public schools of Berkshire County. Dr. William O. Stillman, President of the American Humane Association, delivered an address in October for the League which drew out a sympathetic audience in spite of a severe storm.

Mrs. Couch closes her interesting address with these words: “God grant the day may come, when, assured of an adequate annual income, we may command the exclusive service of our humane agent, who will then be able to relieve so much suffering throughout the Berkshires. And that the dearest hope of all may be fulfilled, that some day we can establish a home of rest, a temporary shelter for the poor overworked

horses, the stray dogs and cats, those helpless, dumb creatures entrusted to us as a sacred charge by their Maker and ours, to whom we shall have to render a strict account of our stew- ardship. We shall press forward bravely, I am sure, with steadfast determination and high hope knowing well that

“Achievement still demands, The same unchanging price ; He dies with empty hands Who makes no sacrifice.’’

The officers of the Berkshire Animal Rescue League are Mrs. Franklin Couch, President; Mrs. J. A. Maxim, Vice President,; Mrs. A. F. Bennett, Secretary; Mr. John W. Thompson, Treasurer.

In the secretary’s report it was announced that the society has 105 members, which is a very good growth for the first year. }

The annual report of the Morris Refuge Asso- ciation for, 1907, shows that a great work has been done, 48,486 animals have come under its care. The Agents have made 21,603 calls and have relieved 1,980 injured animals. This ref- _ uge has been at work thirty four years, and was the first shelter for dogs and cats ever started in America. The founder was Miss Ellen Morris, who died recently, after giving her life to the work. |

FOR YOUNGER READERS

Das

A Christmas Party

It was the afternoon before Christmas and although not a late hour, the street lamps and the stores were lighted, for snow was begining to fall, a heavy, drifting snow with a biting wind which cast a gloom over everything and drove even the eager shoppers home as fast as they could hurry through with their errands.

But down in a tenement house district on a corner of the street, Miss Abby’s little bakeshop was filled. There were women with shawls pinned over their heads, holding out tin cans © to be filled with milk for their babies; there were men with dinner pails stopping to buy a- loaf of bread and a mince pie for supper, or to get a* bottle filled with hot coffee. Miss Abby

Our Fourfooted Friends | 3

took great pains to have good coffee for she be- lieved that if the men would come there and drink it or would fill their bottles with it, when going to their day’s or night’s work, it would keep them from the drinks that took their senses away and made them neglect work and wife and children. There were children too, with pennies tightly clasped in blue, cold hands, waiting for their turn to buy one or two of the tempting little frosted cakes, or the gingerbread animals that Miss Abby herself cut and baked.

The little shop was a cheerful place, full of

tempting rolls and cakes and pies. It was no wonder that the children spent their pennies at Miss Abby’s bake shop, for she was always kind and patient with them and often gave the poorest children rolls and loaves of bread that they could not pay for. _ She had some loving little friends among the children and as she went to the window to get her very last Christmas plum pudding for a customer, she saw one of her young friends standing outside in the snow looking in at the window. She smiled at the boy and motioned him to come in. The boy came in and went to a corner behind the stove,where he found a seat and waited until the last customer went out of the door, then he went up to the counter and holding out a handful of pennies said, “‘I‘ll have to get my supper here tonight.”’

Miss Abby went to work at once’ buttering a roll, cutting a thin slice of cheese and pouring out a mug of hot cocoa, which she had made for herself.

“Have you sold all your papers?” she asked.

“Yes, I had good luck to-day and I was going to try to have a family party for Nellie and Kate but its no use!”’ he said gloomily, “‘Dad’s drinking again. | went home and looked in the window and he’s got another man there with a bottle between them.”’

“Where was Kate,” iously,

“Oh, she locks herself and Nellie in. her room, and Dad wouldn’t dare touch her anyway. Its only me he beats, ’cause I don’t bring him more money —so Nellie, she told me to go to the lodging house and stay tonight, but I thought I’d get my supper here. There’s no use for me trying to have any Christmas.”’

A tear rolled down the boy’s cheek which he

asked Miss Abby anx-

hurried to wipe away, but Miss Abby saw it and sighed deeply. She saw many wives and chil- dren made wretched because of the bar-rooms. Even the mothers were often drunk, but she never got hardened to the sight of this misery and now she felt as if she could weep with this boy, who did not dare to go home Christmas, . because of his drunken father. All she could do was to give him a good supper and make him take it as a Christmas gift, which she had hard work to do, and she sighed again as he went out into the night.

Horace had been gone half an hour but Miss Abby was still thinking about him, when. to her surprise he opened the door and came in. His eyes were bright and shining and he looked as if something good had happened to him. Before she could ask him a question he spoke:

“TI want some bread, Miss Abby, and milk— hot if you’ve. got it—and could you give me a box and something to make a bed of for a fam- ily of little puppies?”’

‘Why my dear boy, what do you mean? You haven’t any little puppies out in the snow I hope.’’she said.

“No—I'll tell you if you’ll hurry, for she’s starving, I’m afraid, and they’ll freeze on the cold floor,” Horace said breathlessly.

‘“‘Horace! what are you talking about?’ ex- claimed the astonished Miss Abby.

elerwas: just.-a little way from: here,’ “said Horace, ‘‘when I heard a whining noise, Oh, dreadfully sad, and something brushed up against my leg, and I stooped down and there was a little dog whining, and she stood up on her hind legs and put her little paws on me then turned and ran, and came back to me, and I knew she wanted me to follow her, So I followed and she kept looking back, and just round the corner is an empty house—”’

‘Yes, I know,” said Miss eae “Its in a law- suit and no one can live there.”

‘‘Well, she went to the back gate and tried to push it open but the snow had got against it and she wasn’t strong enough, so I pushed it, and in she ran and I followed. There is a little back yard and the back door was broken open— I think the boys must have done it lately, and she went in and I after her. As soon as she got in I heard little puppies crying and crying and she ran to them and then back to me—I knew

4 Our Fourfooted Frienas

She was asking me for food,so I just ran back here as fast as I could to get something for them and to get a candle, if you’ve got it, and I want to make a bed for them— will you help me?”’

“Indeed I will,” said Miss Abby heartily, ‘‘It is good work for Christmas Eve to help any suf- fering creature.”’ |

In a few minutes Miss Abby had a little bas- ket ready and a can of milk, and an empty box with an old piece of blanket in it. ‘Come back and tell me about it, when you have fed your little family,’’ she said as Horace ran out the door.

It took him but a few minutes to reach the old house round the corner. When he entered it the dog ran to meet him and jumped up on him whimpering like a child. She was telling him how cold and hungry and lonesome she felt—the poor little deserted mother.

Horace lighted his candle, opened his basket and found a bowl which he filled with warm milk and broke up pieces of bread in the milk. He set it down before the eager little dog, who could hardly wait to get her nose into the bowl and who ate as if she were starving, which she really was.

While she was eating, Horace put the box in the corner of the room and lifting the puppies gently, he placed them one by one on the warm blanket. He filled the bowl a second time for the mother and she ate all he gave her and cleaned out the dish with her tongue. Then she ran to the box and wagging her tail and looking gratefully in Horace’s face, she jumped in and lay down beside her cold babies, who soon began to feel the warmth and comfort she gave them and stopped their fretful crying.

Horace looked round the room. To his sup- prise it was not empty;an old stove not worth moving away, a broken table and two old wooden chairs were there. A few wooden boxes were piled up in one corner and Horace thought how nice it would be to make a fire in the old stove and, if he could borrow a blanket of Miss Abby, lie on the floor instead of spending his money in the lodging house. Already he felt that he loved the little dog and her babies and wanted to stay with them and protect them. “TI will go and ask Miss Abby,” he said to himself, and shutting the door carefully behind him he hurried to the bakeshop.

Miss Abby was doubtful at first, but after thinking it over she said, ‘‘ The house had a care- taker in the basement and she left suddenly. I think the owner would be glad to let you stay there to-night and I will speak to the police- officer on the beat. He is very kind and he knows you are a boy who can be trusted. | 1 will lend you blankets and a mattress and pillow, but you must sweep up the floor first. Hereisa broom and a kerosene safety lamp that will burn all the evening.”’

‘‘ How good you are, dear Miss Abby,” said Horace gratefully. ‘‘ You seem like my mother. If I only could have my sisters with me this evening how happy I should be.”’

‘Perhaps you can have them tomorrow if you stay there. You can buy a basket of coal tonight just opposite, and a bundle of wood and you know how to make a fire.”’

‘“T guess I do,” said Horace, ‘‘ and make tea and coffee, and cook hasty pudding. I'll clean up the room and come back.”’

The room was swept clean, the stove brushed, and a cheerful fire burning in it, and even an old teakettle filled with water was singing a home like song when Miss Abby ventured to leave her shop with a young girl, who sometimes came in to assist her. and ran over to the house to visit Horace and his little family. She found Horace sitting on the floor shouting with laughter at the

little dog who was dancing around him merrily.

The puppies were fast asleep in their snug bed. ~

“This is a jolly Christmas eve,’’ said Horace. ‘thanks to Santa. I’ve named her that be- cause she was a sort of Santa Claus to me, and she answers to the name already. She’sa re- markably bright dog, I’m sure,’’ said Horace; proudly.

‘TI think you were the Santa Claus,’’ said Miss Abby, “‘ for you saved her and her puppies from dying. Think of that poor little mother out in the snow all night,-crying to get in to her babies, and the little puppies moaning for their mother in this cold, desolate room. You have saved them from a miserable death because you were kind enough to stop and pay attention to Santa’s pleading. It ought to make you happy, I am sure.”’

‘Yes, Iam happy, but I shall be happier to- morrow if I can get my sisters here and have a little Christmas party all together.”

Our Fourfooted Friends 5

“T will have a present for Kate and one for Nellie,” said Miss Abby, ‘‘ something good, that they can eat.”’

“We won’t have to buy Santa a collar be- cause she has one on,’’ said Horace, holding Santa’s pretty head against his arm. ‘‘ Why!” he suddenly exclaimed, ‘‘its got a name on it I really believe. It was so dark I didn’t see it before.”’

Miss Abby held the lamp and Horace read aloud the name and address.

Miss Abby cried out in surprise, ‘‘ Read it again. Are you joking? Is it really Miss Waite, 17 Blossom Road?”

| ltreally ts,’’ said Horace.

Then Miss Abby to his surprise seized the little dog in her arms and looked at her earnestly. “It is Fairy—my dear Miss Waite’s Fairy. How thankful she will be! I don’t understand how Fairy could have got lost. We must send her word to-night, Horace. She had to go away for two or three weeks where she could not have Fairy, and I know she felt very uneasy about leaving her. Her maid must have been very careless to let her out of her sight. And Miss Waite was to come home this very day. She won't sleep any to-night when she finds Fairy is gone.”’

“ [ll go and tell her, then,’’ said Horace, rather sadly. ‘“‘ [suppose I couldn’t have kept her anyway, and I’m glad she’s got such a fine Home.”

Miss Waite had got home and was sitting with her hat on trying to think where she could go

and what she could do to recover her beloved —

little Fairy. She had not been able to eat or rest since she was told that Fairy had got out of the house a week ago and could not be found, although a reward had been offered for her.

“ Telephone to all the papers and offer a larger reward,’ said Miss Waite to her maid, “‘ anything that will bring her back! but, oh, I am afraid I shall never see her again. She would die ifleft out in the cold or ill-treated in any way,’ and the tears rolled down Miss Waite’s cheeks. ‘‘How could you have been so careless, Nora? I thought I could trust you better than that !”’

“ Fairy was watching the door all the time after you left, and she slipped out the back door when the ice man came in,” said Nora for the twentieth time, her eyes red with crying, for she loved her mistress and could not bear to see her

suffer so, and was very fond of Fairy, too. “Excuse me, ma’am, there’s the door-bell. Every time it rings I keep hoping its news about Fairy.’”’ And she hurried out of the room.

‘It’s a boy to see you,’”’ said Nora, so beam- ing with smiles that Miss Waite read the good news in her face before she heard the boy say- ing, ‘‘ I’ve got Fairy and her puppies but Miss Abby and I thought it was too cold to bring them out again. I only found her about three hours ago.”

Miss Waite could not speak for'a minute but she caught Horace by the arm and held him fast as if she feared he would run away. When she could speak she said, ‘‘ How do you know it’s my Fairy? Are you sure? Where is she? I will go with you at once. Nora, call a carriage quickly—but, oh, I’m so afraid it isn’t my dear little companion !” and she sank back again in Newmenaiy

“Yes it is, Miss Waite, Miss Abby and I read the name on the collar. Besides, Miss Abby said she’d often seen her with you.”’

“Miss Abby? The Miss Abby Graham that keeps a bake-shop? Did she send you? Then I am sure it is all right.”’

On her way down in the carriage Miss Waite made Horace tell her everything he could about finding Fairy and her puppies, and she fairly sobbed aloud when she heard how Fairy had suffered. When she entered the poor room that Horace had tried to make so cheerful, there was a meeting that Horace never forgot. Fairy leaped into her mistress’s arms and they cried for joy together. Then Fairy ran to her puppies and showed them to her mistress with pride.

Miss Waite shook Miss Abby’s hands again and again, and made her tell all she knew of the story, Then she sturmmed=to sHoracG. and) caia-) / You shall finish out your Christmas eve, dear boy, with Fairy and with me. You must spend the night at my home. You can carry the puppies in the carriage and [ll carry Fairy. Tomorrow I will send for your sistees and try to give you all the best and happiest Christmas you ever had. You must come, too, Miss Abby Graham, and help us celebrate the day when He was born whose life was spent in trying to teach the world to be good and kind to all God’s creatures, as I am sure this boy must be, or he would not have stopped in the snow storm to rescue my poor little Fairy. Aries

6 : Our Fourtooted Friends

A Sentry Saved by a Goose

This story recalls the legend of the Roman capitol and the cackling geese that saved it from surprise. A goose made its first appearance near Quebec over 50 years ago, when some British troops had been sent out to put down a rebellion of the colonists. A certain farm in a neighborhood, suspected of being a resort for insurgents, was surrounded by sentries placed at some distance apart, and one day the sentry whose post was near the gate of the farm heard a singular noise. A fine plump goose, soon ap- peard on the run, making directly for the spot where the soldier stood, and close behind in pursuit came a hungry fox.

The séntry’s first impulse was to shoot the hungry animal and rescue the goose; but since the noise of the report would have brought out the guard on a false alarm he was obliged to deny himself this satisfaction.

The fox was gaining on his intended prey, when the goose, in a frantic attempt to reach the sentry box, ran his head and neck between the soldier’s legs just as the pursuer was on the point of seizing it. Fortunately, the guard could use his bayonet without making a distur- bance, and he did this to such good advantage that the pursuit was soon ended.

The rescued goose, evidently animated by the liveliest gratitude, rubbed its head against its deliverer’s legs, and performed various other joyful and kitten-like antics. Then, deliber- ately taking up its residence at the garrison post it walked up and down with the sentry while he was on duty, and thus accompanied each suc- cessive sentry who appeared to patrol that beat.

About two months later the goose actually saved the life of its particular friend in a very remarkable way. The soldier was again on duty at the same place; and on a moonlight night, when the moon was frequently obscured by passing clouds, the enemy had formed a plan to surprise and kill him. His feathered devotee was beside him as usual, while he paced his lonely beat, challenging at every sound and then “standing at ease’ before his sentry box. The goose always stood at ease too, and it made a very comical picture.

But some undesirable spectators—at least, of the soldier’s movements—were stealing cau- tiously toward the place, under cover of the

frequent clouds and a line of stunted pine trees. Nearer and nearer to the post they crawled, till one of them, with uplifted knife, was about to spring on the unsuspected man.

Then it was that the watchful goose covered itself with glory by rising unexpectedly from the ground and flapping its wings in the faces of the would-be assassins, They rushed blindly for- ward, but the sentry succeeded in shooting one of the party and bayoneting another, while the goose continued to worry and confuse the re- mainder untill they fled wildly for their lives.

The brave bird was at once adopted by the regiment, under the name of “‘Jacob,’’ and deco- rated with a gold collar, on which his name was engraved, in appreciation of his services. Ever after, during his life of 12 years, he did sentry duty at home and abroad, for he was taken to England at the close of the war in Canada, and greatly lamented there when he died. His epi- taph reads: “‘Died on Duty’’; and no human sentinel could have been more faithful than poor old Jacob.

As it may occur to some readers who have not made a study of the interesting and almost human ways of many animals,to doubt the truth of so remarkable a story, they are referred to the gold collar, with Jacob’s name and exploit en- graved on it, which may still be seen at the head- quarters of the Horse Guards in London.—St- Nicholas.

There was a knight of Bethehem Whose wealth was tears and sorrows, His men at arms were little lambs, His trumpeters were sparrows. His castle was a wooden cross, On which he hung so high; His helmet was a crown of thorns Whose crest did touch the sky.

For nineteen years “Duchess,” an elephant in the Lincoln Park Zoo, Chicago, spent her life tramping, if she could be said to tramp under such circumstances, within the radius of a three foot chain which bound her hind leg to a stone post. Enlarged quarters have since been pro- vided for her, but when one thinks of the native haunts of an elephant, the boundless forests, and sees them in the narrow quarters usually allotted to them, what wonder that they ‘“‘go bad” after awhile and kill their keepers?

ANenkss aise aA BAY “Dear Mrs Smith: 1 am going to tell you about Teddy, my cat. He is very cunning and mischievous. He has a very bad trick, though, _and that trick is knocking things off tablesjand windowsills. Every day he goes and sits on the table beside the dinner table and when he sees anything he thinks he might like he puts his paw over and tries to knock it off.

Everytime Teddy sees me he meows a whole lot. The funny thing is that all our pets were strays. Ted was picked up in the hotel hall,

left there by some one who didn’t care, and Ted

TASMES) VES) LEI SANTI Re

was sosmall that he couldn’t eat ; Peter, another Cat, Caine to us at the beach when he was a kitten; Jerry, still another cat, wandered into the hotel; Jerry, the dog, followed me and I wouldn’t go home without him (this all happened when I was little) and my nurse finally had to put him in my baby-carriage. He was a little, lame puppy going around on three legs, but now he is a good healthy dog. I also have a pony who is so intelligent that she can almost speak.

Our iF ourtooted Friends 7

That is everything about all of them except the pony’s name, which is’ Belle. Yours sincerely, Chase Page (nine years).

P.|S. I wish I had a pigeon like Dixie you wrote about in the last number.”’

NoTE BY THE EpITOR.— Thestory of Dixie has been praised so much that we shall publish it again some time for the benefit of those who have not read it.

THIS IS JERRY AND ME WITH TEDDY OVER IN THE BUSHES

HUMANE EDUCATION

Dr. David Starr Jordan lectured in San Fran-

cisco before the California Club on “Peace.” Before proceeding to his main discourse, he made some informal remarks on bird protection which were of more than usual interest. Dr. Jordan is president of the California Audubon Society and has long been an authority on birds. He began by describing a visit he made to a village in Japan where he heard what he thought at first to be the notes of quail, but on closer acquaintence he learned that it was the humming of countless insects. As he went from place to place, he saw a few birds in cages, but no wild song birds, and everywhere he saw myriads of insects, and no fruit. Years ago the French milliners had sent bird lime to Japan, and this had been spread on the limbs of the trees, and the birds had been caught and killed to send to the Paris market for hat trimming for wo-

8 Our Fourfooted Friends

men. Practically all the birds of Japan had been killed, the exception being a few water birds, some ravens and jays.

The speaker said that the Audubon Societies of this country had been formed to prevent what has happened to Japan. Birds are highly organized animals which are worth preserving. They now have as enemies, the boy with his gun, the hunter on Sunday, the cats, certain birds themselves, and women who wear trim- mings or feathers. The ostrich appears to ex- ist for the sole purpose of providing innocent feathers for hats. But the terns, gulls, grebes, and many other water birds, and many of the parrots are in such demand as threatens them with extinction. The song birds have been largely protected for some years through the operation of the Lacey bird law.

Dr. Jordan ended his remarks on bird pro- tection by saying that Japan has no need of an Audubon Society because its birds are all gone and neither has Europe any birds to protect, but that this country still has birds, and therefore the Audubon Societies have much work to do in preserving the birds of the country.

Almost every, even half-civilized woman to- day shrinks from the sight of a cruel driver beating a horse, or from seeing the kicks and blows often given wretched street dogs and cats. But hundreds of good women are permitting their children to grow up with cruel instincts; worse yet, they are teaching their children cru- elty in the cradle. Before you question this statement listen and think. Do you not over and over again see a mother whip a hobby horse to amuse her child? Do you not see her punish an inanimate object over which the baby has fallen, in order to distract the mind of the baby from its hurt? What can you expect of that child when it grows up, save that it will revenge itself upon anybody who annoys it by physical chastisement? The boy who has been educated to beat his hobby horse will beat his real horse when he drives one. — Boston Herald.

Vacations for Horses

Post office officials opened a real complex pro- blem when they decided that every horse owned and used by this branch of the public service in

Washington should have thirty days’ annual vacation, to be passed in a fine pasture five miles from the national capitol. The officials took the position that the horses were among the most faithful servitors of the Government and were entitled to their annual vacation, the same as other clerks and employees. Humanitarians and societies that make it their business to look after the protection and comfort of animals applauded and the department officials began to feel rather proud of themselves until faced by a charge of discrimination.

The rural delivery carriers of the country, some thirty thousand in number, have come forward with the plea that their horses are en- titled, by the department ruling, to the same consideration that the city beasts of burden are to receive. Compliance with the claims of the rural carriers would entail a considerable expense and the department officials have been compelled to modify their order, for the present, holding that the rural carriers’ horse, that is driven over the country roads, with the scent of green fields and lush meadows in its nostrils and the chance of a nibble of green stuff at the close of the day’s work will have to get along without his annual vacation until the postal revenues find themselves on more chummy terms with the disbursements. °

The action of the Post office authorities should, however, accomplish good in calling attention — to the need of occasional rest for the horse, in or out of the Government service. The horse that works in the city should have a vacation just as well as the man who works in the city. The horse usually works harder than any man, is ex- posed to more diverse weather, has harder task- masters and receives less consideration. It was born to the open air, the green pasture and the running water. Its feet were not designed to be curbed with iron and beaten on stone pavements. Its sleek coat was not formed by nature for the galling collar and the rough traces. It has been broken to work, but rest from it furnishes as much relief and recuperation of strength and vigor to the horse asit does toa worn out man. The horse should do better work after a restful vacation, just as a man will—Omaha Bee.

Will you not make some friend a Christmas present of the magazine and so help the cause?

Our Fourfooted Friends

CARE OF OUR USEFUL FRIENDS

The epidemic of fear of hydrophobia is contin- uing to agitate the public mind, and this, added to the muzzling law,is seriously affecting many owners of dogs who, fearing their dogs will have rabies, or cannot for reasons keep them muzzled, bring them to the League with the request that they be killed. In two days twenty three dogs were sacrificed to this reign of terror, their owners loving them too much to let them be placed in strangers’ hands to suffer with homesickness and be chained up or muzzled.

In muzzling dogs, much care should be taken to have an easy fitting leather muzzle, as the Wire muzzles are likely to get broken in which case the wire cuts into the dogs mouth. We have already seen much suffering and injury done by careless muzzling. A muzzle so tight that a dog cannot open his mouth to pant endangers the dogs health and life.

We have found our little dog, thanks to you, A very kind lady, who was interested in dogs, was crossing the Boston Common, and saw a

little dog playing with another little dog. Seeing

our dog had no muzzle on, or chain or anything she picked him up and carried him to you. If it hadn’t been for you we would not have had our darling little Teddy. Heis now lying at my feet, decorated with a wreath and a badge of ho- nor to the League, with his favorite flower in the centre, I enclose fifteen cents which I am sure ought to go to only you. Hoping it will help some, I am, sincerely, M. A. M. R.

Lili Lehmann, who sings now and then, and gives all her earnings to charity, has for some years contributed most that she earns to the Berlin society for the prevention of cruelty to animals, which she was instrumental in found- ing. But the other day she gave $500 to the use of the Mozart museum in Salzburg.

Dan Sullivan, whose stand is corner of Glou- cester and Marlboro Streets, is careful of his horses and deserves patronage.

PINE RIDGE STABLE

A Christmas Hymn.

Once in royal David’s city Stood a lowly cattle shed, Where a mother laid her baby In a manger for his bed. Mary was that mother mild, Jesus Christ her little child.

He came down to earth from heaveu, Who is God and Lord of all,

And his shelter was a stable,

And his cradle was a stall.

With the poor, and mean, and lowly Lived on earth our Savior holy.

And through all his wondrous childhood, He would honor and obey, Love, and watch the lowly maiden,

In whose gentle arms he lay:

Christian children all must be

Mild, obedient, good as he.

For he is our childhood’s pattern, Day by day lke tis he grew

He was little, weak and helpless, Tears and smiles like us he knew. And he feeleth for our sadness, And he shareth in our gladness.

And onr eyes at last shall see him Through his own redeeming love,

For that child so dear and gentle Is our Lord in heaven above.

And he leads his children on

To the place where he is gone.

Not in that poor lowly stable,

With the oxen standing by,

We shall see him; but in heaven, Set at God’s right hand on high: When like stars his children crowned All in white shall wait around.

Hymnal.

10

The Milkman Passes

Almost any morning about eight .o’clock, if you were going down-the road’ upon which the country annex of the Animal Rescue League is situated, you might see, inside the high wire fence half way between the*house and the next house, sitting very erect, ears cocked up, and evidently on the watch for something, a small Irish terrier... It is Dusty, watching for the milkman. |

Other teams pass by; other milkmen come and go, and one stops at the gate to deliver milk: but while nothing passes unnoticed, and the milkman who leaves milk never ventures up the pathway to the house but with one eye on Dusty, Bob, Bessie and Poodlums, thrusts the bottles of milk just inside the gate and flees away—nothing that ‘passes causes the great excitement that this particular milkman does for whom Dusty is watching. It is the grand event of the day—not only for Dusty, but, led on by him, for all the dogs within hearing.

When making a special effort to prevent our dogs from barking at passersby I watched this morning excitement and after watching it several mornings in succession decided not to interfere. This is the regular performance, varied a little according to how many dogs of ours are outside their kennels at that time.

Before describing Dusty’s part in it, and he is always the leader, let me mention that in the house just above us there is a well-béhaved black curly dog, a cross, I should say, between a New- foundland and a Cocker Spaniel; and at the two opposite houses are, first, two fox hounds, and next, a little below our house, a large, old St. Bernard. Farther down the road isa bull terrier who, I fear, is usually tied to his doghouse and occasionally keeps me awake at night by his cry- ing aloud to the heavens his longing for freedom.

Dusty plants himself at the front of the horses‘ paddock, bordering the road, at a little before eight. The milkman is not always on time and I have watched Dusty sitting, bolt upright, look- ing up the road, apparently not moving, for nearly halfan hour. Before I can hear a sound of approaching wheels, I know the crisis has arri- ved by Dusty, who rises, stands afew seconds with head cocked to one side, then, giving one short, sharp bark, he starts, not toward the ap- proaching milkman, but in the opposite direc-

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tion, and, racing like a deer, he goes down past the front of our house, along the orchard fence until he is opposite the St. Bernard’s home, when he begins his high sharp, excited bow- wows, and, I feel quite sure, calls out to his nei- ghbor, ‘“‘Look. sharp! They’re coming!” then flees back up along the fence to meet, not so much the milkman as his dog, a fine, lively shep- ard dog, who gallops ahead of the team and very evidently takes pride and great pleasure in the commotion he raises.

How they come—the neighbor’s black dog barking at the top of his voice, and the milkman’s dog, the latter making always a dash into the opposite yard where the old St. Bernard lives to rouse him up, for he is pretty slow to respond and to show that he isn’t afraid of any dog that lives. The milkman, grinning, goes by ona gallop, these, dogs racing after him in the road, and inside our fence Dusty, in his wild excite- ment, leaping up several feet in the air until I really fear he will jump the fence. Bobs and. Bessie are old and very large, but they have deep voices and let them out as they go with a lumbering trot after Dusty. Poodlums runs fast, though not as fast as Dusty, and he also barks loudly as he runs. .

' Just back of our house is a kennel and large wired-in yard where other of our dogs are kept. Here in the summer, were Pat and Whiskey, Irish terriers, boarding for the summer; Magda, an Airedale, Niobe and Lucy, two pointers, and allthese make up a chorus in the back ground. The whole symphony lasts but a few minutes however, and silence reigns until half an hour later the milkman and his dog go back; very slowly this time, and undisturbed, unless Dusty happens to be on the front again, when he sends out a brief defiance, but by this time he has usually returned to his favorite occupation, hunt- ing for rats and mice in the barn.—A. H. 5S.

A Knowing Fire Horse

Every fireman and anyreporter, forthat matter —can tell astonishing stories of the intelligence of horses attached to fire departments, and the best thing about the stories is that they are pretty certain to be true. Such are the anec- dotes that come from Portland, Me., about Dick, the horse that draws the Chief's wagon. Intel- ligence and courage, Dick’s characteristics,

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have sometimes been manifested in rather un- usual ways.

For instance he does not like to be stabled and he deeply resents being confined to a stall, and he can master almost any kind of fastening but a lock and key. Prompted by that assurance, perhaps, he has been known to walk up the door- steps of houses belonging to people who had formerly fed him cake and sugar, his evident intention being to go inside. He has recognized such women friends on the street a long way off, and rubbed delightedly against a telegraph pole, like a big cat. When his harness has broken or been misplaced, Dick, unguided by reins or with the wagon banging against his heels, has kept right on, and taken the chief to the fire at “better than a three minute clip’’—this at night, at might be added, as well as by day.

Dick is supposed to be about 16-years old. He joined the department in 1890, and helped to pull an engine until he was hurt in a collision and pronounced useless. He was on the point of being disposed of, when the chief decided to give him a trial as ‘“‘special horse.”’ That proved to be the place Dick was born for, and now nobody wants to put him out of it.“ If the city govern- ment ever orders him sold,’ says the chief, ‘‘I