OFFICIAL ORGAN OF THE WISCONSIN AND ILLINOIS ADDUBON SOCIETIES, 
One Year 25 Cents Single Copy 3 Cents 
Published by the Wisconsin Audubon Society, at Appleton, Wisconsin. 
Entered as second-class matter May 16, 1904 at Appleton, Wis., under the act of Congress of Mar. 3, ’ 79 . 
VOL IX.. JANUARY, 1907. No 7. 
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The Pence Conference. 
One warm day in early June a happy 
goldfinch was lazily skimming through 
the air, enjoying the beautiful summer 
weather, with no cares to disturb his 
mental equilibrium as long as there was 
a goodly supply of insects and worms 
which could be had for the labor of gath¬ 
ering them for himself and little family, 
which was resting quietly in a secluded 
nook not far away. 
He happened to pass near the home of 
the little wren, who seemed to be all in a 
bustle and acting very much excited, flit¬ 
ting here and there and chirping unceas¬ 
ingly. Catching a glimpse of her old 
neighbor, she called out to him, ‘‘Good- 
morning, Mr. Goldfinch.” 
“Howdy, Mrs. Wren. Why this down¬ 
cast countenance on such a bright morn¬ 
ing ? I am sure there is very much to be 
thankful for, and very little cause for dis¬ 
content in your sunny life.” “Yes, Mr. 
Goldfinch, but every one has his troubles 
in this beautiful world, although the 
surroundings seem pleasant to others.” 
“My dear Mrs. Wren, surely you are 
joking ! Who could be happy if not the 
mother of five dear little wrenlets and 
the wife of as kind and manly a husband 
as one could wish for?” 
“To be sure, I am proud of my hus¬ 
band and little ones, but one can never 
tell how soon she will be taken from them. 
I could* endure it were it not for the 
thought of the great suffering from star¬ 
vation that the little fledglings must en¬ 
dure before death overtakes them.” 
“Please explain, Mrs. Wren, what you 
mean by all this dreadful foreboding of 
evil. Is there some dire disease in the 
land that threatens our safety ?” 
“No, no, Mr. Goldfinch, something 
more dangerous than that.” 
“Well, what can it be?” 
“Nothing more nor less than a curi¬ 
ously contrived instrument made of wood 
and metal, in the hands of our inferiors, 
men. They call them rifles, I believe, 
but 1 call them infernal machines.” 
“Friend Wren, cease your misgivings. 
To be sure, I have seen those creatures 
beneath us, stalking abroad through the 
land, and have pitied them greatly on 
account of their inability to fly. It must 
be dreadful always to be obliged to hob¬ 
ble over the ground in the slow way that 
they do. And they have, time and again, 
tried to invent a. machine that will en¬ 
able them to skim through the air as we 
do, but to no account. To be sure they 
have succeeded in making some machines 
that will carry them, but they must for¬ 
ever stay on land, and never can sail 
through the air. And these machines 
need a good deal of repairing, care and 
expense. And they have a disagreeable 
habit of breaking down, or, what is worse, 
blowing up just when it is most incon¬ 
venient for the travelers. For my part, 
1 feel very sorry for the poor, handi¬ 
capped beings without any lovely wings 
