8 Massachusetts Audubon Society 



exposure to unfavorable weather conditions, the greatest single living agency 

 in the destruction is the roaming, unrestrained house cat. 



At this time the officials of this division wish to impress this fact on the 

 people throughout the State, and we trust you can give it space in your paper. 



Ask the owner of every cat to keep it under such control that it will be 

 impossible for it to catch ground nesting birds or the young birds leaving 

 the nests, during the critical period (May 15 to Aug. 15). 



Appreciating any help you can give the cause by calling it to the atten- 

 tion of your readers, I am, 



Very truly yours, 



William C. Adams, Director. 



POSSIBLE WEALTH 

 By Arthur J. Parker 



"There is no possible wealth," wrote Emerson, "but a rush of thoughts." 

 Well, how about a rush of wings — "wild wings"? Such as enriched an hour 

 for me last eve, making it golden with wonder and a spell. 



A vast level pall of storm-clouds made heaven and earth alike strange, 

 and cast on swamp and woodland a glamor of weird twilight. From across 

 the swamp came a sharp kuk, kuk, kuk — too late to be a robin and anyhow 

 of a different quality. Snipe, I suspected, this being April 10, and snipe 



weather. 



I listened and waited. Then it came, above, around, uttered invisibly 

 from the low storm-wrack, the thrilling aerial wing-music of the snipe. 

 Forlorn amidst the skyey desolation, now near, now far, one moment appar- 

 ently vocal (a tremulous moan), the next plainly winnowed from stiff flight- 

 feathers. The music had much the pitch and tempo of the screech-owl's 

 eerie chant; distinguishable, however, when the unseen performer hurtled 

 down close above my head, when the tones became palpably but an accen- 

 tuated soughing. 



Once, in boyhood, I had seen as well as heard the spectacular per- 

 formance, and the memory now was added, gold to gold. 



This morning another fresh-minted piece from Nature's treasury. Be- 

 yond the bank of blackberry canes arose a sudden melee of avian combat, 

 the onslaught of two crows upon a male sharp-shinned hawk. Hither and 

 yon through the orchard whirled and dodged the nimble accipiter, but in 

 vain; only the cover of the remoter woods could stay that pernacious agile 

 pursuit. Then out ventured my song sparrow and carolled hearty thanks- 

 giving. 



The way of a bird in the air is ever a kind of miracle, and a keen 

 aesthetic delight; a sign and a token to our earth-bound lives of freedom and 

 achieved beauty. 



Our real wealth or "illth" being nothing other than the present content 

 of the consciousness, whither (we may ask) shall we resort for riches so 

 freely and fruitfully as to the glorious works of creation? 



And of these, surely, the boon supreme is the living bird — the marvel 

 of its development and adaptations; its benison of song; its grace or infinite 

 variety of form and posture; its admirable loves and loyalties; the vivid 

 poetry and spiritual symbolism of its flight! 



