10 BY THE 
possible, and to refuse to look at the 
picture does not lessen the horrible re¬ 
ality, nor the responsibility. 
At the custom house I learned that 
last year’s importation of feathers 
reached to nearly $2,000,000 ($1,(05, 
708 to be exact.) The language of the 
tariff knows no sub-division of dressed 
feathers. This includes dressed, colored 
and manufactured and finished birds 
and feathers (not including ostrich 
plumes) which are suitable (?) for mil¬ 
linery purposes. 
Can our little brothers, the birds, 
stand this wanton destruction? The 
scientists say not. 
Out of seven hundred hats counted by 
Mr. Frank Chapman in an afternoon’s 
walk, but twenty birds were recognized, 
although five hundred and forty-two 
hats were, if you will, embellished with 
feathers of some kind. Of the one hun¬ 
dred and fifty-eight remaining seventy- 
two were worn by young or middle-aged 
women and eighty-six by those in mourn¬ 
ing or elderly. Of the seven hundred 
hats counted this makes only about ten 
per cent, without feathers. 
When will women realize that the 
Bird and the Hat should never go to¬ 
gether? 
What are you going to do about it? 
Are you going on wearing birds on your 
hats until you are forced to stop by the 
birds’extermination, or will you refuse 
now when you have the power of choice? 
— Mrs. Thompson-SeUm in the Outing. 
The Red Bird. 
“The Red Bird is here, the Red Bird 
is here,” was the glad cry I heard one 
morning in early March and I ran out 
with the other people to listen to a wild 
WA YSJDE 
\ 
and happy whistle that seemed to be 
coming from every direction at once 
and from no place in particular, the at¬ 
mosphere was full of it. At last the 
bird was located on a telephone wire 
and I received my first introduction to 
a Carninal in its wild state. There he 
sat in the heart of a great city, fear¬ 
lessly whistling forth his glad tidings 
of spring, he sang “Good cheer! Good 
cheer!” 
I had been hearing about him all 
TO 
winter but he had evidently been living 
where he found good winter board, but 
now food was more plentiful eyery place. 
You who have seen the Scarlet Tana- 
ger when he first lights among the soft 
greens of our northern spring has some 
idea of the flash of color. Gene Strat¬ 
ton Portor describes it well in her Song 
of the Cardinal, “It was as if a pulsing 
heart of flame passed by when he came 
winging through the orchard;” this de¬ 
scription can be applied to both birds 
only one is scarlet and the other cardi¬ 
nal. 
To me the Cardinal is very much like 
a small red Blue-jay with his red crest 
and black beard and frolicksome ways, 
but there is is no comparison in their 
voices for the Cardinal’s is rich .and 
musical with a different song for every 
day of the week. They nest in vines 
and low trees, the female doing most of 
the work while the male sings and dic¬ 
tates and he is what is called “bossv.” 
They are very friendly if well-treated 
and one spring a beautiful fellow chose 
the vine over the living-room window. 
It was his choice and the little wife went 
to work under protest and he often had 
to hunt her up and drive her back. 
When the home was nearly finished, he 
also concluded it was too public and 
