n, but assistance," says I. "Cruelty to animals is mostly
confined to men."

"Not exactly," says he. "I have sometimes seen kittens and pet dogs
treated more unmercifully than omnibus-horses, and by innocent children
too."

I did not answer. How could I? The remembrance of a trout-brook, with
birch-trees hanging over it, and great red-seeded brake-leaves growing
thick on the bank, made me shudder. Hadn't I held ever so many kittens
under water in that very spot, and shouted and laughed to the other
girls--some of you, my sisters, among them--while the poor little things
kicked and struggled for life, that was just as dear to them as it is to
me? Hadn't I hunted up birds' nests, and driven the pretty creatures
distracted by handling their eggs, till at last the nests were broken
up? Then didn't I string the cold eggs into a chain, and hang them in
triumph over the looking-glass in our keeping-room?

You will tell me, out of the kindness of your hearts, that these were
sins of ignorance. Just so; and it is this ignorance, which is sometimes
cruel as the grave, that Mr. Bergh is trying his best to enlighten. No
child would do a cruel thing if it were made to understand the pain it
is giving. Yet, sticking pins through flies, and spearing wasps to the
wall, are about the first thing a smart baby learns to do.

Did you ever see a lot of boys going home from school, when a
garter-snake, or any other harmless serpent, crosses their path? They
know well enough that the poor things do no harm, and are as afraid as
death of them; but see the great stones they heave upon the miserable
reptile; the shouts they send up, as it writhes, and coils, and fills
the air with feeble hisses, trying, poor thing, to save its bruised and
broken life to the last.

Does anybody tell the boys that this is brutal cruelty? No, even the
Christian mother, who would not do an unkind thing to save her life,
forgets that God makes snakes as well as ringdoves, and that pain is
just as bitter to the snake as to the cooing bird.

Sisters, we are all wrong in leaving these things to men only. If we did
our duty, and taught little children that even thoughtless cruelty is a
sin, and that the fun which comes out of pain to any of God's creatures
is a crime, there would not be much for Mr. Bergh and his noble society
to do. The cruel instincts of a child become ferocious in the man. With
such, men can best deal. I thank God that one brave spirit is found