Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 257, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 1 November 1918 — From Lucile’s Diary [ARTICLE]

From Lucile’s Diary

“My people are all going to the country tomorrow," said Felix Weston to me last Thursday evening, when we were felt for a motor ride. "J’m wondering what is to become of my pet crow.” .“Oh, have you a crow?" I asked. •Avhat’s his name?" "Jimmy Of-Course.” •How interesting!* •Yes, he makes life exceedingly interesting." Felix laughed. "You know > crow is an extremely active bird. I brought mine in from the country this spring and my sisters and I have had a strenuous time raising him, for he had to be fed every hour in his babyhood. I suppose non I shaft have to send him to board at a bird fancier’s." •Don’t send him to a bird store," 1 cried. “It would be awfully hard on him to be shut in, wouldn't it?” "Yea, but I don't see what else I can do with the poor chap." •Let me take him." “I don’t believe you know what you are offering, Lucile. I couldn’t think of imposing Jimmy Of-Course upon you. I realize now that my ramarks about him sounded dfikgerously near a hint, but they weren’t so intended.” "I know that, but seriously I should love to take Jimmy Of-Course. It would be great fun to have a -visit from a crow.”

* "But he’s fearfully full of mischief. He might put you to a lot of bother." 1 could see that Felix was weakening.and as he is one of the pleasantest young men I have, met in a long while, I wished to do him a favor, and 1 simply insisted upon taking care of the crow for him. It was at last arranged that he should bring his bird to our house on his way downtown the next morning. He appeared so pleased and grateful that I was really delighted that I had thought of the plan to keep Jimmy Of-Course. ‘ When I went in that evening after our drive I found that Ruth Ritchey had been telephoning me to join her for a week at Squirrel Inn, where she is passing a month, and I decided to go early the next morning. I was busy selecting the gowns for Cousin Fanny to press with the electric iron, which is such a comfort in time of hasty departure that I am very glad I gave her such a fine new one on her last birthday. Then I had to get mother to do a little mending for me. With all that to look after and in the excitement of packing, I quite forgot to mention the crow until the next morning. Just as I was driving off to the train in David Robinson's car, I ramember ed about Jimmy Of-Course and called to Cousin Fannie to ask her please to take care of a bird that Mr. Weston was to bring to me. I could not hear her answer as we whirled away, but I felt no anxiety about Jimmy Of-Course for Cousin Fannie is always wonderfully kind to anything that comes under her care. I had been at Squirrel Inn only three days when I received a telegram from father. It said: "Come home at once and dispose of your diabolical crow, or I will wring its neck."

It was most unkind of father to send me such a message. When after my arrival home I reproached him, he said that if the rules of the telegraph company had permitted he would have desertbed Jimmy Of-Course in much stronger and more accurate language. “That crow has'nearly driven us and everybody in our neighborhood to distraction,*’ he said. “It whs a nice thing, I must say, for you to wish such a charge on your Cousin Fannie. She hasn’t had a moment’s peace since he came. He has stolen thimbles, scissors and embroidery cotton from every porch in the neighborhood and carried off my gold glasses ind picked every flower in our window boxes and all the tea roses in the Humphries’ garden. He has covered his feet with oil from the street and carefully stepped on all the handkerchiefs that have been spread on lawns in the neighborhood to dry. He has done everything that a totally deparved crow could do in that way of ruining personal liberty. “But his greatest crime," went on father, "is his nefarious use of his voice. He begins his raucous cawing before dawn and stops only long enough to swallow food your Cousin Fannie gives him at frequent intervals till our breakfast, time. There’s hardly a person in this part of town who’ll speak to us except to anathematise the crow, and no wonder, for every one is wornout for want of sleep. *1 can’t see why you ever had * him brought here." “Because I wished to do a kindness, daddy.” “If you want to do a kindness you < n ship the crow away and' re ive the blessings of the neighbors* That crow’s got to go, Lucile. That's the ultimatum." There’s never any use arguing with an unreasonable person like father, so I called up Felix and asked -him to take the crow to a birdhouse. It was naturally very mortifying to me, but no one in our family ever seems to consider my feelings.