XIV. 

 "THESE ARE YOUR BROTHERS.'' 



A WELL-KNOWN French man of letters wrote 

 a book, nearly thirty years ago, with the ex- 

 press object to " reveal the bird as soul, to show 

 that it is a person," in the hope of diminishing 

 the enormous slaughter for purposes of personal 

 adornment, of ministering to our appetites, add- 

 ing to our collections, or, worst of all, gratify- 

 ing our love of murder, pure and simple, by 

 whatever name we choose to dignify the taking 

 of life for our own amusement. To this noble 

 man's effort every lover of birds, for higher 

 uses than to put in the stomach or on the shelf, 

 should add his chronicle, however unpretend- 

 ing. 



It is a mystery how men with hearts tender 

 to suffering can be so carried away by the ex- 

 citement of the hunt as to lose sight of the ter- 

 ror and pain of the victim. Many hunters have 

 confessed to a return to their better selves the 

 moment the chase was won. In what does this 



