SEVEN MEN AND A DUCK. 9 



never had the privilege of flying with them, I cannot say 

 this is true from my own observation. 



While the children were talking, the duck rose again, 

 close beside the boat, that had been quietly floating, and a 

 man who was fishing near by said, •' Don't I wish I had 

 my gun ? I'd soon spin that little brown head off." He 

 was a prosperous-looking gentleman, weighing about two 

 hundred pounds, with a most humane countenance, giving 

 no indication of his awful thirst for blood, or desire to take 

 life just for sport. A cloud had come over the peaceful 

 picture of the green-fringed lake, reflecting in its clear 

 depths the red and gold of a glorious sunset. I moored 

 my boat and left, thankful that the children had not heard 

 the cruel words. 



A few days later I was startled by the sharp report of a 

 shot gun, a most unusual sound, at once my thoughts flew 

 to mad dogs, cats in fits, even to suicide, these thoughts 

 were quickly put to flight by mj^ young son rushing in with 

 quivering lips and eyes blazing witn indignation, to say 

 that ' 'Seven men were bombarding that one poor little duck, 

 two at each end, one on each side of the lake, and one row- 

 ing after it in a boat with a gun. ' ' Stopping to take breath 

 he went on to say, with hands clinched tight, and choking 

 voice, "It is no fair, it is not fair, so many strongmen, with 

 guns to help, against a tiny, helpless thing, nothing, no 

 one, to defend her. Big cowards ! Why don't they take 

 something their ow^n size ? We boys wanted to stone 

 them, or plug sticks at them The cop saw us, and said 

 we ' mustn't.' I suppose that w^ould be rude, and might 

 hurt them. They will kill our little duck ; I know they 

 will. She is game, and will do her best, but she hasn't 

 any show." 



Down went his head, and then came a great convulsive 

 sob, followed by a hot torrent of tears that relieved for the 

 time being the hurt, sorrowful heart. 



