Evening star., 1925-11-17

I could quote you poem upon TINS
| matter-animal trapped, looking with
tragic eyes at the cold stars, bleeding,
| starving, dying, meeting the gentle
Jesus, face to face, at last-but to
what end?
Gentle fur wearers. the rolling tides
of fashion will end this slaughter for
your sake.
Fur dealers, coat manufacturers, do
| not be alarmed. There is nothing that
I or any one else can say or write
| that will cut into your profits one Jot.
The women. want fur on their coats.
| and that settles it. After the fur
| mania maybe 1T will be feathers-but
there are plenty of birds.
And we have airplanes. Say the
word, ladies. and hundreds of men will
go flying through the air for your
| sake. swinging huge nets. to supply
| the decorations for your coats next
| season.
Birds are fond of food. We will
| sprinkle the ground with the choicest
of seeds, and when the silly things
| fly down to partake of our hospitality
we will gather them in--for you.
| For you, sweet mothers, who tuck
your little children into their safe
beds at nights-for you, women In
black, who have met and known death
and its sorrow-for you, young girls,
| tender and sweet, who Shudder at the
| mere sight of blood.
| X X *
There is little dog I know, a fur
| bearing animal, too, cousin to the
funny raccoons and bright opos-
sums.
He has straight forelegs and up
right ears and a big black spot over
his left eye which gives him the most
comical aspect.
| To see him is 20 love him.
| His counterpart Is in IL thousand
and one homes. His name Is Spot,
and he sports all day with little Billie,
| the pride of the household.
He is Bills pet.
| The day is never too long, or the
demands of Billie too insistent, for
Spot. He will play until his tongue
hangs out, and his bright eyes seem
to be calling quits; but he never
waGs his tail nay-never once.
lie IS one of the family. His dinner
is second only to the more elaborate
meal of the young hopeful of the
| family. His cute ways are spoken of
in the same breath with those of
| Billie.
He is only a dog. but he has wound
| himself around the hearts of all who
know him, in that persistent. intimate
way that good dogs have, since they
| have been with us on this globe. with
which we all spin for our little time
out of nothingness and the dark
Dear old Spot
! When he got lost, one day, and was
! gone for two nights and three days,
| the family life was blighted. Billie
was disconsolate. The family adver-
tised. and inquired, and searched for
| blocks and blocks.
| Dull depression sat in the minds of
| the entire household
| Have you found Spot yet?" friends
| called up.
The virtues of the lost one We're
| spoken of in hushed tones. along with
| little fellow for running off
THAT rascal, Spot" said the oldest
member of that household, but his
/ heart was not in it.
What JOY reigned when Spot was
| found, 1t seemed as if load was
| suddenly lifted from all hearts. The
| temperance of that comical fellow,
with his black eye, was better than a
| fortune.
There was nothing too good for the
| little animal friend. who was lost, and
was found, WHO had come backbone
back
May we not. without undue senti-
rnent, give a moments thought-that
| is all I ask-to the thousands upon
| thousands of little animals that go out
| from their own homes-but do not
come back?
| They love life, too.