The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1911-11-23


 pulling up some punches Of grass with his soft psws. 4 squirrel fsD out of a chestnut tree, making the chestnuts rattle out, although f1eJ were not yet ripe.
 There were two or three clumsy flights of the. big phessants, and z great commotion fin the low branches and the dry leaves in the breeze, made by the shooting, which startled ane frightened everyone who lived in sks wood. The field mice were runnIns In the bottom of their holes. A horn neetie came out from the hollow Of the tree against which were press ed as flat as possible, rolled his great stupid eyes and almost turned ts stone with fright. And the sg< dragon flies, the bees, the butterflies the poor little animals everywhere were were all scared, even little cr1cksf With scarlet wings which rested quite near by, but I was too scared my self to profit from his fright.
 My old friend, however, was calTr all the time. He listened to everz baying of the dogs and to every hr. Ing, and when they came too neat signaled to me and we went on q lit tie farther, out of the scent of the dogs and well hidden by the foliage.
 One time, though, l thought that we were gone for sure. The uaJ where we had to go was watched q. each end by hunter in ambush. 4 one end was a tall, jolly fellow, wtfF black whiskers, who every time h. moved sounded like old iron clinking with his hunting knife, cartridgs box powder box, without mentioning hk nigh gaiters buckled up to his knees which made him seem even taller. 4 the other end was a little old man pipe happily, with his eyes partjt closed. as if he was going to sIeeD wasn't afraid of this one. It wal that tall fellow.
 You don't know much yet, Rou get" said my comrade to me, laugh we'll spread out he flew almost int the legs of the dreadful hunter w1tks whiskers. And the result was that the poor man was so encountered with all his hunting rig and so busy admiring himself from head to foot, that when he got his gun up to f1is shoulder we were already out of reach. Oh, if hunters only knew when they think they are alone in a quiet little spot in the woods, how many keen little eyes are watching them from the underbrush, how many pointed bills are trying not to laugh at their awkwardness!
 We kept on going, and we kept On going all the time. Knowing neth- ing better to do than to follow my old friend, my wings went with his and stopped when his did. can see still all the places where we wents the warren, purple with heather, ful5 of burrows at the root of the yellow tree with this great curtain of oaks where 1t seemed to me that l could see death hiding everywhere; the lft- tie green walk where my mother had taken her little ones in the May suns, where we used to skip about, pecking at the red ants which crawied up ca our feet and where we used to mees the little stuck-up pheasants, clumsy as hens, who never wanted to play with us.
 I saw it as in a dream, my little green walk, just as. "a hind crossed it, tall on its Ions thin legs with it's big eyes all open and ready to leap Then the pool where we came in par ties of fifteen to thirty all in one flight, flying up from the plain in second, to drink of the spring water and tc splash ourselves with the Iif~ tie drops which rolled of our shiny feathers
 There was in the midst of this pool some bushes, very thick. and here we took refuge. The dogs would have an extraordinary nose to find us hers- We had scarcely settled there before a deer came dragging along on thrss legs, and leaving a red trail on fn9 moss behind her. It was such sad sight to see that I hid my head In the leaves, but I heard the wounded one drink in the pool, panting and burning with fever.
 Day was going The shots sounc- ed farther away, and were not 90 often. Then all was quiet It w5s over. Then we came back quite d. rectly toward the plain to get news o4 our flock. As I went past the little house I saw something terrible
 At the edge of trench, the hares with their red hair, the little grey side. Their small paws were 5oin- ed together in death. which made them look as if they were asking Tor mercy. Their closed eyes seemed to weep. Then the red partrfdges. and the grey partridges, which had nalE young birds of this year, who had still. like me- some down in their feathers.
 Do you know anything sadder than a. dead bird It was 50 alive with it's wings! To see them folded and big roe seemed as if sleeping, vita her little red tongue hanging out or her mouth as if to lap still
 And the hunters were tnerey oSux over their slaughter, counting ana drawing towards their gamebags tae bloody paws, the torn WlHSSs " Wsesstt&~ respect for all those bleeding The dogs tied up along rns road, kept their mouths going ysr- as if ready to dart off again into the un- lerbrush.
 Oh, when the sun was setting and they had all gone, tired out, sending their lengthening shadows over the clods of earth and the pathways wet with the evening dew, how l hatest them, men and dogs, all of them. Neither my comrade nor myself had the courage to give our farewell as we usually did, to the day which wzs ending.
 On our way we met unfortunate It, lie animals, knocked down by chance shots and left there for the snts< some field mice with their noses full ,f dirt; some woodpeckers, soms swallows struck in flight flat on thefy packs, stretching their little stf8 claws towards the night, which wa coming down quickly as it aIvayB 1oes in the fall, clear, cosu and dama But the most heart breaking of a1 was to hear in the edge of the wood near the field and over in the wfIiovD ,y the river, the anxious calls. sad and scattered to which there was no 'eply.