Democratic Sentinel, Volume 19, Number 44, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 8 November 1895 — Killing a Bird. [ARTICLE]

Killing a Bird.

To one who reads the signs of the times it Is apparent that a broader sympathy Is taking possession of men’s minds;, a feeling of kinship with every living creature; a conception that even the lowest animal has a right to life and to its place in the universe. That relic of barbarism known as the "hunter’s instinct,” which means nothing more thau a savage’s desire to kill something, is no longer held up to the childish mind as a trait to be admired and copied. The effect of this nobler * teaching is illustrated by an Incident which occurred in a suburban town near Bostou. A ten-year-old boy of Newtonville was given a toy gun by his father, who laughingly promised him a dollar for every crow he would shoot. Highly elated with his gun, and sanguine of earning a small fortune by shooting crows, the young sportsman spent the greater part of two days in a field watching for the black birds. Not a crow came near him, greatly to his disappointment, and he reported his 111-success to hid father, who said, to comfort him: “Well, never ‘mind the crows. I’ll give you half a dollar for any kind of a bird you can shoot.” Early the next morning the boy, gun in hand, took up his position in the back yard to watch for sparrows. A half dozen or more unwary birds soon appeared to pick up the crumbs which he had thrown out to lure them within the reach of a shot. At a movement on his part the sparrows rose, and the boy fired. One of the birds was hit and fell to the ground, where it lay for a minute fluttering its wings and then became motionless. The boy went forward, picked It up and looked at it. The poor little head hung limp—the shot had broken the sparrow’s neck. For a moment the boy stood contemplating the dead creature in his hand; then hs turned and fled to the house. “Oh, I've killed it! I’ve killed it, mammal” he cried, in a shocked tone. "It can’t fly any more!” and all that day Jils lament was, "Oh, I wish I hadn’t done it! I wish I hadn’t done it!” His father, who had not supposed the boy in any danger of hitting a bird, tried to solace him with the half dollar and suggestions of wlmt could be ■bought with it “No, papa,” was his sorrowful answer, “I don’t want it I wish it could make the sparrow alive again. I never thought It would be like that to kill a bird!” "And,” said his father, In concluding the story, “I was more pleased at the tender feeling my boy displayed than I should have been had he become the best shot In the State.”—Youth’s Companion.