The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1889-07-17
A Story Of Wings.

"Just now there is again deplorable ten
dency towards the use Of natural wings and
whole birds in Millinery
The wife OF the vicar was young and fair;
The simplest hat on her braided hair
Borrowed such charm from her lovely face,
That 1t seemed q thing of artistic grace;
But like many another is kind and good,
She fancied that Fashion understood
The how and the wherewithal to wear,
And trusted to modste and milliner,
Instead OF her own sweet womanly mind,
Which could but choose the fit and refined.
So one day she took from its wraps with caro-,
A wondrous erection just sent to her,
In which was set one beautiful thing,
And that was kittiwake's exquisite wing.
She was bound for stylish afternoon tea,
But first she must visit her nursery.
The ornament which he fain would clutch;
And Harold declared with wild halloo
That mother was just like cockatoo;
While Nellys insipient womanhood
Pondered the matter in thoughtful mood.
But the lady had an hour to spend
Before she reached the house Of her friend.
To her mothers meeting she bent her way,
Though rather shy of her dress that day.
The little tales of their troubles heard;
And she made the time pass pleasantly
With her friendly talk and her sympathy.
Before they left, she ventured 70 say ,,or
Stoning the tbrushes, now weak with cold,
And with winter sorrows manifold.
For the creatures He made, the birds of the
kind,
Goodbye was said. They went one by one,
And the lady thought herself there alone,
AS making up her accounts she sat-
When she felt sudden twitch at her hat;
It came again, and made her start, .
While quicker and louder throbbed her heart,
And then she suddenly was aware
or q wingless kittiwake standing there
Upon the table. 1t silence broke,
And (wonder Of wonders y thus II spoKe:-
aThat wing is mine-you wear to-day,
The thing that was stolen from me away.
Well remember the morning fair,
When we skinned the waves and cleaved
Ny mate and I. as we sought to find
Food for the little ones lett behind,
When peal on peal broke like thunder's
And soon sea and rock and sands around
Were strewn wi th the fair birds dying and
My mate fell first-then. ere life had fled,
The wings were wrenched from my bleeding
And / was flung on the billows crest
I once had enjoyed to tread. but now
A quivering mass sank below.
Hearing my hungry birdlings' cry,
Worse than my own sore agony.
And you are mother well, that is good:
The downy nestlings that meath that wing
Were wont 80 costly to cling?
A nice, becoming plume for you :.
And who can pity the thrushes tool
Murder and robbery In one day
Yet you'll wear that wing when in church
you pray"
And the poor bird, giving It's anger vent.
Waxed so indignant and eloquent,
That IL was with almost shrek II spoke,
And with its wall the lady awoke.
Her eyes were dim for the mother-bird's woe;
The room was dark, and the fire was low;
She was too late now for the afternoon tea,
SO she gathered her books up tremblingly,
And went back way like q guilty thing,
She was so ashamed Of that kittiwake's wing.
In her happy home the fire shone bright,
The room was full OF pleasant light,
But warmer and brighter and yet more fair
The welcome her husband gave to her;
But even that could not charm away
The troubled look on her face that lay,
And she could not find a moments rest
Till the strange, wierd story was confessed,
And she asked, with tears in her eyes OF blue,
II the phantom bird had told her true?
The vicar looked grave while he stroked her
hair,
And thought she never had seemed so fair,
AS he answered her that the lovely wing
Was, spite Of It's beauty, cursed thing.
"You will never have another" said he;
"I will never wear this again." sobbed she.
''Give it to Nell for her DOLL" said he;
"Nay, 1t Is stained with blood, sighed she.
"No, we will burn it tonight" cried she.