Year: 1872

EbeneZer Webster, father OF Danlel,
was q farmer. The vegetables in his
garden suffered considerably from the
dcpredations of a woodchuck, whose
hold and habitation was near the prem
ises. Daniel, some ten years old, and
his brother Ezekiel, had set trap. and
at last succeeded in catching the tres
passer. Ezekiel proposed to kill the
animal and end ut once all further trouble
with him; but Daniel looked with COM
passion upon his meek, dumb captive,
and offered to let him go. The boys
could not agree, and each appealed - his
father to decide the case.


"Well, my boys" said the old gentle
man, 81 will be Judge and you shall be
counsel to plead the case for and against
his liberty"


EZEKIEL opened the case with strong
argument urging the mischievous nature
of the criminal, the great harm he had
already done, said that much time and
labor had been spent in his capture, and
now, if suffered to go at large, he would
renew his depredations, and be cunning
enough not to be caught again, and that
he ought now to be put to death; that
his skin was of some value, and that,
make the most of him they could, it
would not repay half the damage he had
already done. His argument was ready,
practical, and to the point, and of much
greater length than our limit will allow
us to occupy in relating the story.


The father looked with pride upon his
son, who became q distinguished jurist
in his manhood.


"Now, Daniel, It's your turn; I'll hear
what you've got to say"


It was bis first case. Daniel saw that
the plea of his brother had sensibly af-
fected his father, the judge; and his
large, brilliant black-eyes rested upon
the soft, tin id expression of the animal,
and he saw it tremble with fear in its
narrow prison house. His heart swellet
with pity, and he appealed with eloquent
words that the captive might go free.
God, he said, had made the woodchuck;
He made him to live to enjoy the bright
sunshine, the pure air, the fields and
woods. God had not made him or any
thing in vain. The woodchuck hid as
much right to live as any other living
thing; he was not destructive animal,
like the wolf; he simply ate few COM
mon vegetables. of which they had
plenty, and could well spare part; he
destroyed nothing except the little food
he ate to sustain his humble life; d
that little food was as sweet to him and
as necessary to his existence az was to
them the food on their mothers table.
God furnished their own food. He gave
them all they possessed, and would they
not spare little for dumb creature
who really had as much right to his small
share of Gods bounty as they themselves
had to their portion? Yea, more; the
animal had never violated the laws OF
his nature or the laws of God, as man
often did, but strictly followed the simple
instincts he had received from the hands
of the Creator of all things. Created
by Gods hands, he had right from
God to food, to liberty, and they had
no right to deprive him Of either. He
alluded to the mute but earnest plead
ings of the animal for that life, az dear
to him as were their own, and the jndg-
ment they might expect, if in selfish
cruelty and cold. beartedness they took
the life they could not restore again.


During the appeal the tears had start
ed in the old mans eyes, and were fast
running down his sunburnt cheeks.
Every feeling of a fathers heart was
stirred within him, and lie felt that God
had blessed him beyoni the lot OF com
mon men. HIS pity was awakened by
the eloquent words of compassion and
the strong appeal for mercy; and, tor,
getting the judge in the man and TIE
father, he sprang from his chair (whiIe
D.niel was in the midst of his argument,
without thinking he had already won his
case), and turning to his eldest son,
dashed the tears from his eyes, he ex-
claimed: 'Zeke, Zeke, you let that wood
chuck co."