onnets whenever they can raise a cent to buy
'em with. Oh, yes, wimmen are awful consistent! They are, for a fact."

Had his words reached Miss Harper's ears she might have replied that
sensible and humane "wimmen folks" regarded the fearful slaughter of
birds as little less than a crime; but unfortunately she did not hear
this and resumed:

"Yet you hunt out these harmless and beautiful creatures and wantonly
destroy them. Nearly every boy gives way to this savage, brutal
impulse to kill something. He couldn't tell why if you were to ask
him. Children, do you know there is a society whose members pledge
themselves to protect the birds? I wish we might organize one here
to-day. I am sure, from a spirit of kindness, you would like to unite
in a promise not to willfully harm any of these wonderful creatures
that God has placed around us."

When Alice Glenn drove home that evening she carried with her a glad
heart, for in her pocket was a copy of the rules and by-laws of the
"Anti-Cruelty Society, of Mount Airy School," which Miss Harper had
organized that afternoon. And it was signed not only by the girls and
all the smaller boys, but by big Jim Stubbs and the boy who winked with
his nose.

CHAPTER XV

POLLY'S FAREWELL

Happy little maiden,
Give, oh, give to me
The highness of your courage,
The sweetness of your grace,
To speak a large word in a little place.
--_E. S. Phelps-Ward._

Closing the volume, Polly laid it in her lap.

"That was a good story," observed Miss Kathy, as the child paused. The
little girl did not immediately reply, but leaned forward and looked
wistfully in her companion's face for a moment.

"Do you think it is so very wicked to keep--that is, to--to deprive a
bird of its liberty?" she asked timidly.

"Oh, I don't know that it could be called wicked. A canary bird, born
in a cage, that never knew any other home, would be apt to die if it
were turned loose to shift for itself and get its own living. It
possibly could not stand the exposure to the weather," replied Miss
Katharine.

"But supposing it wasn't a canary," said Polly hesitatingly; "supposing
it might be a redbird, or a wren, or--or----"

"Or a bobolink?" Miss Kathy smiled as she supplied the word.

"Well--yes, a bobolink, for instance." And Polly glanced toward me.

"Any captured bird certainly feels very bad to be shut up in a cage all
its life, though I have seen robins in capti