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THE STRIKE AT SHANE'S. 



GOLD MINE SERIES No. 2, 
Sequel to " BLAOK BEAUTY." 




A PRIZE STORY OP INDIANA. 



WRITTEN FOE, AWD REVISED, COPYRIGHTED, 
AND PUBLISHED BY THE 

'AMERICAN HUMANE EDUCATION SOCIETY." 



For prices, etc., write Geo. T. Angell, President, 
19 Milk Street, Boston. 



COPTRIGHT, 1893, 
BY 

The American Humane Education Society, 



All rights reserved. 



TUFTS UNIVERSITY LIBRARIES 





I 



3 9090 014 545 947 



Seaverns 


SF 




301 




S77 




1893 





1^^ All humane persons who read and become 
interested in this book, and would like to aid in giving 
it a gratuitous circulation in schools and elsewhere, 
widely over our country, are respectfully requested to 
send checks or donations for that purpose to our 
treasurer, or to 

Geo. T. Angell, President, 

19 Milk Street, Boston. 



The American Humane Education Society, incorporated 
by the Legislature of Massachusetts in the spring of 1889, 
with power to hold half a million of dollars free from 
taxation, in addition to sending its monthly paper, ^'•Our 
Dumb Animals^"' to all editors in North America north of 
Mexico, and employing missionaries to establish "Humane 
Societies '' and " Bands of Mercy " in Eastern, Western, 
and Southern States and Territories, and a great variety of 
other humane vv'ork, has published and caused to be 
circulated (1st) nearly a million and a half copies of '•'•Black 
Beauty;'' (2d) many thousands of copies of "Autobiogra- 
phical Sketches " by its President, and now sends out this 
beautiful Humane Prize Story, written for it, and which it 
thinks may obtain as wide a circulation as '•'• Black Beauty .^'' 

It is intended to sell this, as all other of the Society's 
past and future publications, at about the bare cost of 
printing. All who wish infornaation in regard to prices, 
and all who are willing to aid its gratuitous circulation^ are 
kindly requested to write or send checks or remittances to 
Joseph L._ Stevens, Assistant Treasurer of the American 
Humane Education Society, or to me. 

GEO. T. ANGELL, 

President of the American Humane Education Society, the 
Massachusetts Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to 
Animals, and the Parent American Band of Mercy, 19 
Milk Street, Boston. 

On the last pages of this book will be found much 
information. 



The American Humane Education Society. 




GEO. T. ANGELL, President. 

JOSEPH L. STEVENS, Sec'y and Ass't Treas, 

Hon. henry O. HOUGHTON, Treasurer, 

(OF HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN <Sr CO.) 



THE AMERICAN HUMANE EDDCATION SOCIETY. 

^^ The first and only Society of its kind in the "World. 

The American Humane Education Society was incorpor- 
ated as a National Society by Act of the Legislature of 
Massachusetts, March, 1889, with power to hold half a 
million of dollars free from taxation. 

It received during its first year in its permanent fund real 
estate given by its president^ valued at over thr^e thousand 
dollars^ and for present and future use money given by 
persons in various States to the amount of over eight 
thousand dollars more. 

It has received much larger sums since. 

Its object is to carry humane education into all our 
American schools and homes, and to found " Humane 
Societies " and '•''Bands of Mercy " over the whole American 
Continent. 



] 



AMElilCAX HUM AXE EDUCATION SOCIETY, 

Its directors hold office for life; when one, dies the others 
elect another to fill his place. Its board of fourteen 
directors is made up of eight gentlemen and six ladies, 
three of whom are Catholics, and eleven Protestants, and 
all of w hom have been distinguished for their interest in 
questions of humanity. 

Among them are Hon. Henry 0. Houghton^ senior partner 
of the great publishing house of Houghton, Mifflin & Co. ; 
Hon. Edward H. Bennett, Dean of " llie Boston University 
Law School;" Hon. Daniel Needham, President of "The 
New England Agricultural Society;" Hon. George White., 
Judge of Probate ; Hon. Henry B. Hill., and Patrick Donahoe, 
Esq., who is well known to Eoman Catholics throughout 
our country. 

Among its vice-presidents and active life members are the 
Governor of Massachusetts ; the Most Bev. John J. Williams, 
of Boston ; the Bight Bev. William Lawrence, the Episcopal 
Bishop of Massachusetts ; Bev. Francis E. Clark, President of 
^'' The Societies of Christian Endeavor ; ^'' Mrs. F. W. Vander- 
bilt, of New York City ; Miss Sarah J. Eddy, of Providence, 
R. I. ; and other prominent gentlemen and ladies residing 
in various parts of our country. 

Among the w^ork already accomplished by it in the last 
four years has be^ the establishing, through its mission- 
aries and otherwise, of numerous " Humane Societies " in 
different parts of our country, and many thousands of 
branches of its '-'- Parent Band of Mercy ,^'' which now numbers 
over seventeen thousand branches, established in every State 
and Territory, and including probably more than a million 
members. 

It has printed and circulated and caused to be circulated 
about a million and a half copies of '•'•Black Beauty,'''' being 
probably the largest number ever circulated of any book 
in the world in the same length of time from publication. 

It has sent its monthly paper, ^'-Our Dumb Animals,"" 
regularly to the editors of every newspaper and magazine in 



AMEEICAN HUMANE EDUCATION SOCIETY, 

North America north of Mexico^ receiving iu return many 
thousands of copies of their publications containing 
articles taken from it. 

It has offered prizes to all the college students of America 
for best essays on the importance of humane education in 
our higher institutions of learning. 

It has oftered a similar prize to all American editors for 
best essay on the importance of humane education for the 
prevention of crime. 

It has offered prizes for the best stories similar to '•'•Black 
Beauty^'''' illustrating kindness and cruelty in our Northern^ 
Southern^ and Western States and Territories. Also for the 
best humane dialogues and songs for use in public schools 
and elsewhere. 

For the purpose of obtaining information on the following 
important subjects it has offered prizes for the most 
valuable essays and letters on Slaughtering^ Cattle Trans- 
portation^ Treatment of Cattle on the Plains^ Effects of 
Cruelties to Animals on Public Healthy and Vivisection. 

It has offered a prize for the best drama of '•'• Black 
Beauty " suitable for presentation in our theatres. 

It has corresponded with tJ^e presidents of all American 
colleges and universities^ supplied all their libraries and 
students with humane publications, and, offered a prize of 
$1000 to the first leading college or university which shall 
establish a professorship of social science and humane 
education. 

It has sent large numbers of its publications in the 
English, and translated into other languages, to various 
parts of South America, Europe, and Asia. 

It has printed in a single year over one hundred and nine 
millions of pages of humane literature. 

This is only a partial statement of the work already 
accomplished by the '''• American Humane Education Society " 
within the past four years. 

All persons wishing further information as to its plans 



AAIEIUCAX HUMANE EDUCATION SOCIETY. 

iiud purposes will receive prompt answers by writing the 
undersigned, and all wishing to send checks or remittances 
to aid its worlv, or any part of its work, can send them to 
its treasurer, the Hon. Henry 0. Houghton, 4 Park Street, 
Boston, or to the undersigned. 

All such will be most thankfully received and acknow- 
ledged in the columns of '■'■ Our Dumb Animals,-' which goes, 
among others, to the editor of every newspaper and magazine in 
North America north of Mexico, and will be sent regularly to 
all making such remittances. 

Geo. T. Angell, 

President of the American Humane Education Society, the 
Massachusetts Society for the Prevention of Cruelty 
to Animals, and the Parent American Band of Mercy, 
19 Milk Street, Boston. 




"THE STRIKE AT SHANE'S." 



INTRODUCTORY. , 

I I I HIS story is intended to point out in a homely way 
W I some of the mistaken ideas held by men in general 
®J^® in regard to the relations existing between the 
human race and the lower animals and birds. 

The popular remedy of the laboring classes of the pres- 
ent age, when the conditions of their employment become 
oppressive, is to inaugurate a strike; and in the following 
narrative sufficient intelligence has been accorded to the 
lower animals to enable them to employ the methods of 
human toilers in righting their wrongs. 

It is true the relation of employer and employee does 
not exist between man and his domestic animals, but rather 
that of master and slave ; and until the law-making power 
takes some measures to regulate and restrain man's domin- 
ion over them, it is left for the educators of the times to 
appeal to an awakened conscience for an amelioration of 
their condition. 

Men are often blinded by the glitter of gold to the bless- 
ings that God has given us, and forget that our dominion 
over the lower animals was given by a decree of the 
Almighty, and that that dominion should be exercised in 
the same spirit that God exercises his ruling power over us. 
The following pages are intended to show the results that 
would naturally follow if the support and assistance given u§ 
by the loioer animals and birds should be withdrawn^ as wozild 
J>e the case if they should exercise the same rights claimed by 

human toilers and go on a stnke. 

Author. 



s^ 




THE STRIKE AT SHANE'S. 



CHAPTER I. 




EE up, there, Dobbin ! Whoop ! " With a 
shout that rang through the forest Tom 
Shane let the heavy " black snake " whip 
fall on the flanks of the two willing horses. 
Again and again the heavy whip fell on the " o^'" 
horse, which was apparently unable to "pull even" 
with the younger liorse on the "near" side. The 
horses tugged at the traces, and floundered about in 
the mud, but were unable to move the heavy load to 
which they were hitched. 

"Be aisy there now, Tom, will ye? It's stuck ye 
are now, sure enough," said an Irishman who came 
up just then. 

"It's all on account of that lazy Dobbin," said Tom, 
"he didn't pull a pound." 

"Arrah, there now, it's forgettin' the age o' the 
horse ye are. Sure^ there icasn't a horse on the j>/«c6 
L'ould pull irid him u:hrn he was younger. It's gettin' 
along in the years I am mesilf , an' age will be wearin' 
the strength o' a horse the same as a man. Let 'em 
stand 'til I get a bit of a pry under the wheel.** 

He procured a fence rail, and proceeded to put it un- 



4 THE STBIKE AT SHANKS, 

der the wheel as a lever to lift it a little out of the 
''chuck hole "where it Jiad stopped. Those who are 
familiar with the ungravelled roads of Indiana in 
former years need not be told what a "chuck hole" is ; 
but to those not experienced in such matters it might 
be explained that heavy hauling over these roads will 
wear deep holes with sharp edges, and when the wheel 
of a loaded wagon drops into one of these holes it is 
very difficult to pull it out. Thanks to an increased 
population, such roads are not so numerous as they 
were in former years, and teaming is not necessarily 
such a horse-killing business as it used to be. 

"Now, will ye give 'em another pull?" said Mike, 
who had his " bit of a pry" under the wheel, and was 
dangling on the end of it doing his best to lift the 
wheel a little. 

"Give 'em a sclimall taste of the whip, to encourage 
'em a little," he cried. 

Again the whip was unsparingly used by Tom, and 
the two horses exerted all their powers, but only suc- 
ceeded in moving the wagon enough to let Mike's pry 
slip out, and he came sprawling down in the mud. 
But more serious results had followed. Old Dobbin was 
down, and Tom, in his anger, was cutting him with his 
whip to make him get up. 

"Hould on there, bye," shouted Mike, coming for- 
ward, covered with mud. "Ye wouldn't sthrike a man 
whin he's down ; thin why don't ye show the same 
dacency to a dumb brute ! Unhitch the chains there ; 
don't you see the ould horse is chokin' ? " 



THE STBIKE AT SHANE'S, ft 

*' Little do I care if he dies," said Tom, as he 
ungraciously assisted in extricating him. *' Here it is 
comin' night, an' this load stuck here in the middle of 
the road all on account of that old brute.'* 

"It's the fault o' yer feyther, it is; for if he'd be 
doin' the right thing by old Dobbin he'd give 'im the 
run o' the pasture for the rist of his days widout a bit 
of the work to do. It's goin' on twinty years since he 
was broke to the harness, an' that's afore you was 
borned," said Mike. 

" Come, old fellow, get up ;" and he assisted the old 
horse to his feet. 

"Hello, there, what's up?" shouted the driver of a 
team that had come up behind. 

" Sure, an' it's stuck in the mud we are," said Mike. 
"An' it's glad we are to see ye, Mr. Tracy, if ye'll 
give us a pull at the ind o' the tongue wid thim beau- 
tiful horses o' yourn." 

" Ah, it's Shane's team ! " said Mr. Tracy, "and old 
Dobbin has been down. Shane never will learn when 
a horse is used up. He's had twenty years good ser- 
vice out of that horse and isn't satisfied yet. That's a 
good load for four horses over such roads as these." 

"That's thrue," said Mike, '•''hut Shane niver slnds 
four horses to do the ivork he can get out of two.'* 

j\Ir. Tracy's team was soon hitched to the end of the 
tongue, and the four horses easily pulled the wagon out 
of the mud. 

"The old horse is winded," said Mr. Tracy, " and 
can never pull that load home. It's a shame to treat 



6 THE STBIKE AT SHANE'S, 

:i faithful old horse in that manner. You liad better 
pull out to the side of the road, and come back in the 
morning with a better team.'* 

Mr. Tracy's advice was taken, as it was evident that 
old Dobbin was about used up. 

About twenty-five years pre^ious to this time John 
Shane had moved to Indiana, and had bought a small 
farm, on which he built a saw mill; and by running 
the mill in winter and farming in summer he had added 
to his possessions- until he was now the owner of two 
hundred acres of fine farm land. He had been a hard- 
working man, and was now considered a well-equipped 
and prosperous farmer. He was a hard man to deal 
with, and always aimed to make a dollar where other 
people made a dime. 

It was a favorite maxim of his that nothing should 
stay on the farm that did not more than pay expenses. 

There was not a beast or fowl on the farm but what 
his careful eye was on it, and everything must bring in 
money or its fate was sealed. 

Avarice held full sway over his mind, and there was 
no room in his nature for kindness. Everything on 
the place felt the effects of his ill-temper — even his 
family did not always escape. His son Tom had, to 
a great degree, absorbed his father's sentiments, al- 
though a good boy at heart. A boy's character is 
often ruined by his early training, and Tom was guilty 
of many acts of cruelty to dumb animals which he 
did not know were wrong, simply because his father 
had set him that kind of example. He did not know 



THE STRIKE AT SHANE'S, 7 

that lie was violating any rule of humanity Dy such 
aqts, because his thoughts had not been directed in that 
channel. 

Altogether the animals on Shane's farm had a pretty 
hard time of it.' There were two redeeming characters 
on the farm, however, and they were Mrs. Shane and 
her daughter Edith. Invariably kind and gentle in 
their ways, they were loved by everything on the farm, 
and their righteous indignation would sometimes get 
the better of their judgment, and they would speak 
their minds about the cruelties practised by father and 
son. They would usually meet with the reply that 
"Women had better keep still about things that don't 
consarn 'em." And John Shane said, "Nothin' made 
him madder than for a woman to interfere when he was 
dealin' with his animals." 

Tom, ha^^ng arrived at home, and put the horses in 
the stable, came into the house, just as the family 
were sitting down to the supper table. 

*' You are late to-night, Tom," said Shane. "Has 
anything gone wrong ? " 

"Yes, everything's gone wrong," answered Tom, in 
a surly mood ; "and if I can't have a better team to 
work T\qth I won't do any more teamin'." 

"Come, sir," said his father, "none of that kind 
of talk — I won't have it. What's the matter with 
the team?" 

" Why, enough's the matter," said Tom. "We got 
stuck in the mud down by Ford's, an' old Dobbin 
choked down an' would'nt pull a pound ; " and Tom 



8 THE STRIKE AT SHAKE' 8, 

proceeded to tell the whole affair as it occurred, not 
omitting Mr. Tracy's remarks. 

"I think Tracy had better mind his own business 
and leave mine alone," said Shane, a little piqued. 

*' Well, if he had, your wagon would be standing 
down there in a mud hole yet," said Tom. 

*'That ain't what I mean," said Shane. "That's 
no more than I'd do for a neighbor ; but I know a 
good horse as well as Tracy does ; an' my horses don't 
take no back seat for his neither." 

*'He don't drive any wind-broken nor worn-out 
horses," retorted Tom. 

" No more would 1 if it wasn't for your mother, who 
makes me keep old Dobbin." 

"Well, John," said Mrs. Shane, mildly, " yo?« don't 
need to tcork old Dobbin if you do keep him. I am 
sure, as Mr. Tracy says, he has earned a rest for the 
balance of his life.'* 

"You know my principles, Mary, that nothin' shall 
stay on this farm that don't pay expenses." 

'•^ I brought Dobbin here ivhen I married yon, John, 
and here he is going to stay as Jong as he lives." 

Something in the tone of her voice touched a chord 
in John Shane's heart that caused his memory to turn 
back to the time when he married Mary. He was 
kind-hearted and happy then — but oh, those times 
were different. A man could'nt afford to be generous 
now or the world would get the best of him. But 
why? 

*'An' I say, father," said Tom, breaking in, "if 



THE STIiIKE AT SUANE\S. 

mother insists on keeping Dobbin, let's turn him out to 
pasture. It won't cost much to keep him, an' 1 won't 
drive a broken-down horse for people to make remarks 
about." 

'' Especially Cora Tracy's father," said Edith. 

"No, not 'especially' anybody," said Tom, bri- 
dling up, but blushing at the same time. 

"Well, we'll see about it," said Shane. " I don't 
want to hear any more about it to-night." 

Thus he put the matter off, hoping that the event 
would be forgotten by morning, and that nothing more 
would be said about it. 




CHAPTER II. 




H¥j events just told took place in the early 
spring, just at the time when the spring 
work was commencing on the farm. The 
trees were beginning to put forth their 
leaves, and the meadows and fields were green with the 
growing grass. The violets along the fence rows were 
turning up their little faces to the warm sun, and every 
"bird familiar to the climate had made its appearance. 
Their joyous songs rang through the woods as they 
flitted hither and thither, building their nests, or tiu*n- 
ing over the leaves looking for bugs and worms. 
There was no ill-temper displayed by these dwellers of 
the forest as they went about their work, seeking a 
living, or building their nests for the summer. Why 
should not the human family go about their work just 
as joyously as the birds of the forest? 

" Whistle and hoe, sing as you go, 
Shorten the row by the songs you know.'* 

No such an idea as this had ever entered John 
Shane's head, for with him everything was bustle and 
hurry. 

The day broke bright and clear on the morning after 
Pobbin's misfortune, and the Shane household was up 



THE STRIKE AT SHANE'S. 11 

with the sun to begin their daily duties. The conver- 
sation of the previous evening had been forgotten by 
Shane — or at least thrust into the background by more 
important matters ; and as he hurried to the barn to 
look after the feeding, his only thought was how to get 
the most work done that day. He walked down the 
row of stalls, throwing corn into the feed boxes, until 
he came to Dobbin's stall, w^hen he stopped as though 
thunderstruck. Old Dobbin was standing with his 
head down, wheezing like a man with the asthma. 

"Hello; here's a fine go, right in the busy season. 
Just my everlastin' bad luck!" he exclaimed, for the 
appearance of Dobbin indicated a severe case of lung 
fever. 

Shane never gave any thought to the comfort of his 
animals, and Tom followed in the footsteps of his 
father. He had brought Dobbin home wet with sweat, 
and tied him in his stall without rubbing him down, 
and such a thing as a blanket was never heard of in 
Shane's stables. Tom's ill temper had made him even 
forget to put in the usual bedding of clean straw, and 
the result was, as any good horseman might expect, 
that Dobbin had taken a severe cold. 

" How now, Tom," cried Shane, as Tom entered the 
barn, "here's a nice mess you've made of things." 

Tom stood with his hands in his pockets, staring at 
Dobbin ; and while his conscience compelled him to 
feel a little sympathy for the old horse's sufferings, yet 
he had the secret satisfaction of knowing that he would 
not have to drive him any m^ore for a few days, aiiv- 
how. 



12 THE STItIKE AT SHAXE'S, 

"You go down to town jin' bring up Hodges, an' 
see what lie can do for him," said Shane. 

Had he known what would be the result of this 
action, he would rather have said, "You take him 
down to the woods an' put a bullet in his brain." But 
he thought Hodges could doctor the old horse up so 
that he would be able to work again. 

Shane got Dobbin out of the stable in the meantime, 
although he was so stiff he could scarcely walk. 

Hodges, the veterinary surgeon, soon came and said 
he thought he could cure him, but that he didn't 
believe he would ever be worth much, or able to do 
much hard work again. 

"AYell, I'll spend no money on him," said Shane. 
"Here's your fee for this time, and you needn't come 
any more." 

" iV/r. Hodges j" said a voice behind them, ''you can 
give old Dobbin cdl the attention he needs, and I icill 
see that you are paid.'' It was Mrs. Shane, who had 
come up just in time to hear Shane's last remark. 

Shane growled out something about ' ' squandering- 
money," and turning on his heel, went to the barn. 

Hodges left medicine with Mrs. Shane, and she and 
Edith got the old horse into the yard and wrapped him 
up in an old quilt. They bathed his limbs with the 
ointment left by Hodges, and Mrs. Shane held his 
mouth open while Edith poured in the medicine for him 
to swallow. 

Dobbin's condition soon became known throughout 
the barnyard, and also the cause of it. There is no 



THE STUIKE AT SHANE'S. 13 

question but animals do have some means of communi- 
cating with each otlier. How it is done we do not 
know. All migratonj birds and foivls hare a piihUc 
meeting before starting on their Joirrrif^//.^ southward^ 
and go in Jlocks. It is interesting to watch a public 
gathering of crows, and see the dignified manner in 
which they will carry on the meeting until there arises 
a difference of opinion on some point, and then there 
commences such a chattering and cawing, and rising to 
points of order, or for personal explanation, as was 
never heard outside of a session of congress. But in 
the end they always come to some kind of a decision — 
ichich congress does not always do. 

It is said that the eagles of southern Indiana have 
a place of meeting where they hold an annual gathering, 
and make an apportionment of the country, assigning 
to each pair a certain territory over which they may 
hunt ; and this meeting of eagles has never been known 
to be guilty of making a ger^-ymander , thereby setting 
a good example to some of our legislatures. It is not 
necessary for me to enumerate the many acts of 
sagacity of our domestic animals to show that they 
have some means of communicating ideas from one to 
the other. 

Old Dobbin was a favorite with everything on the 
farm, and the news of his misfortune spread in a short 
time, and was a matter of general discussion by all the 
animals. Even the chickens missed him, for he never 
objected to their eating a few grains of corn out of his 
box ; but if they got in his way he would push them 
gently aside with his nose. 



14 THE STRIKE AT SHANE'S. 

Even John Shane missed him, but it was the result 
of a selfish interest ; for here was his team broken up, 
and not a horse on the place to take his place. There 
was no use of talking about breaking one of the colts ; 
and Bay Dick had such a temx)er that he couldn't be 
worked with any horse hut Dobbin. If he should 
hitch one of the colts up with Dick, everything would 
l)e kicked to splinters in fiye minutes. 

He w^ent among his neighbors and tried to hire or 
buy a horse, but it was the busy season, and none of 
them cared to part with any of their horses. In this 
way he spent the w4iole day and succeeded in doing 
nothing but get into a very bad temper. 

He w^ent down to the field w^here Mike was plowing 
with the only team on the farm, and told him not to 
spare the horses, but " put 'em through from daylight 
till dark." 

''■Not if I know mesilf," said Mike to himself, as 
Shane started away. "It's not such a fool I am to 
overtax me ow^n stringth for the sake of getting a 
little more work out of the horses." 

Shane searched far and wide for a horse, but could 
find none at that season of the year. His temper grew 
worse all the time. Tom didn't escape his wrath either ; 
but Tom had a way of getting even by taking out his 
spite on the cattle and horses, and even the dog and 
cat did not entirely escape his kicks and blows. 
And his leisure time was spent going about the fields 
shooting birds, as he said "for practise." 

Things w^ent on this way for a week or ten days, 



THE STRIKE AT SHANE'S. 15 

when Shane conchided to try breaking one of the colts. 
His idea of breaking a colt ivas by force, and the 
thought never entered his head that he could subdue it 
by gentleness. The strong-limbed, beautiful colt was 
enticed into the stable, and the door securely fastened. 
A rope with a slip-noose was then thrown over its 
head, and as it plunged away the rope tightened 
around its neck until it was choked almost into insen- 
sibility. A strong bridle was then placed on it and 
the noose was loosened. After being pulled around and 
whipped for about an hour the colt became too much 
exhausted to make further resistance, and Shane held 
it by the bit w^hile Tom fitted on the collar and harness. 
Bay Dick was then brought out and hitched to the 
wagon, and the colt was placed alongside of him. 
Dick resented the idea of being hitched with a colt, and 
evinced some restlessness. ^ ' Gettin' frisky, are you ? " 
said Shane, and he gave Dick a cut with the whip 
which raised a long welt on his side. 

Dick laid back his ears, as much as to say, '' Til get 
even with you for that." 

" All ready ; let go ! " shouted Shane, and Tom re- 
leased the colt's head, which he had been holding by 
the bit. It began to rear and plunge about in its 
efforts to get loose. Dick caught the excitement of 
the moment, and began plunging and kicking with all 
his might. The team then started to run, dragging 
Shane a short distance, when he let go, — and they 
sped down the lane like a hurricane. The wagon was 
torn to pieces, and the two horses, trying to jump a 



16 THE 8TBIKE AT SHANE'S, 

fence, went clown together, and were tangled up in the 
harness. Shane and Tom hastened to the place and 
extricated them. Dick was all right, hut the coJf's 
leg icas broken. 

" Go to the house and get the rifle," said Shane. 

Tom went; and when he came back Shane put a 
bullet in the colt's head, saying, " It's no use to fool 
with a colt with a broken leg." 

Such are the sentiments of many whose hearts are 
closed against the silent appeals of our dumb animals. 

How often have we seen the look of pain in a horse's 
eye after receiving cruel blows for failing to do what 
was impossible — a look which almost seemed to say, 
*' God forgive them, for they kriow not what they do!" 




CHAPTER III. 




NDER the kind treatment of Mrs. Shane 
Dobbin had improved rapidly, and was able 
to be turned out in the pasture ; but he was 
still stiff in the joints and short in his wind. 
Shane had succeeded in getting a man from the village 
to come with his team and work a few days, but he 
was far behind his neighbors in getting his corn planted. 
This soured his temper more than anything else, for he 
was always ahead of his neighbors in his work, and he 
blamed it all to " his everlastin' bad luck.'* 

From this time on he hardly gave his horses time to 
eat and sleep, and they were worked down almost to 
skin and bone. Dick's temper had not improved any, 
and he bore the marks of the whip frequently; for 
Shane said the only way to control a horse was to make 
him fear you. 

About this time it became known about the farm 
that Dobbin had called a meeting of all the animals on 
the farm to take some measures for the amelioration of 
their condition. This meeting was to be held on the 
next Sunday, as that was the only day when the horses 
could get off. 

Now, the animals did not know exactly what was to 
l)e done at the meeting ; but they had great confidence 



18 THE STBIKE AT SHANE'S. 

in Dobbin, and attended the meeting in full force. It 
was held under the old oak tree down in the pasture 
beside the brook. The gathering was rather a surprise 
to Dobbin, for he had not expected so many. He had 
given notice that all the useful animals and fowls of 
the farm should be present, and as the result all the 
horses, cattle, sheep and swine were there, and all the 
chickens, turkeys, ducks and geese had sent representa- 
tives. Towser, the dog, and puss, the cat, were there 
in person. All the birds of the forest had sent repre- 
sentatives, and there were also representatives from 
the snakes and toads. 

It was with some apprehension that Dobbin took 
charge of this great gathering, as it was the first time 
he had ever attempted to preside over a public meeting, 
and he would have found himself alflicted with a trem- 
bling of the knees if his knees had not been too stiff 
to tremble. More than that, he was doubtful if all the 
representatives present were entitled to seats in the 
convention ; but he concluded to take the matter in his 
own hands without appointing a committee on creden- 
tials—probably owing to the fact that he never heard of 
such a committee. He concluded to take the most 
difficult problem under consideration first, and called 
on the snakes and toads to state their claims to sit in 
the convention. 

''We are not animals," said one of the toads, 
" neither are we fowls ; but we do claim to be useful. 
We destroy many noxious insects that would injure the 
crops grown on the farm. In fact, we live entirely on 



THE STRIKE AT SHANE'S, 10 

insects — such as flies, roaches, mosquitoes, worms, aucl 
bugs, that would destroy agricultural crops. And we 
have been treated " — 

" Never mind how you have been treated," said Dob- 
])iu, "we will hear that further on, I believe your 
statements to be true, and will allow 3^ou to remain in 
the convention." 

"And we," said one of the snakes, "live on insects 
the same as the toad, and assist in protecting the crops 
from these pests." 

"Yes," said the toad, "you sometimes make a meal 
on one of my species." 

"I admit that such things have been done, but 1 
have never been guilty of such a crime," said the 
snake. 

" Is not your bite poisonous, and are you not a dan- 
gerous fellow to have about?" inquired Dobbin. 

"An entirely mistaken idea," said the snake ; '■^ there 
is but one poisonous snake in the State, and that is the 
rattle-snake. We do not associate with them at all. 
Although our teeth are sharp, we have no poison fangs, 
and our bite is no more dangerous than the prick of a 
needle. For the proof of this I refer you to any 
scientific investigator of the age." 

"Well, we will accept your statements as true, and 
allow you to remain in the convention," said Dobbin. 

"Bravo ! " shouted some one in the rear, and Dobbin 
looked around and saw a long-eared mule. 

' ' Hello ! by what right are you here ? " inquired 
Dobbin. 



20 TltE STlilKE AT SJIAXE'S. 

''By the right of my abiHty to get here," said the 
inule. " I am at present a free and independent char- 
acter in this community, and seeing you assembled 
here I thought I would come over and see what the 
caucus was about." 

"May I ask where you belong?" inquired Dobbin. 

"I was formerly emplo^^ed by a street car company 
of Indianapolis. I received too many kicks and blows 
and too much hard work for the amount of food I got, 
so I escaped from the stables and came out in the 
country for a vacation," said the mule. 

" Well," said Dobbin, "if you stay here j^ou will not 
be likely to find your condition any better." 

"Nevermind about me," said the mule. "It's just 
as easy to jump out of the field as it was to jump in ; 
and if farmer Shane tries to capture me, he'll find I'm 
something of a kicker." , 

"That maybe," said Dobbin, "but you will find 
that farmer Shane is something of a kicker too, as all 
the animals on the farm can testify." 

' ' We will now proceed with the business of the meet- 
ino; ," said Dobbin, "and will call on all the assembled 
company to state their grievances and make suggestions 
for the remedy." 

The cow was called upon. 

' ' My troubles are not as serious as those of some 
others on the farm ; but I don't think I have been 
treated fairly," said the cow. " I give all the milk for 
the family, and don't begrudge them any of it, yet 
when they took my calf from me I couldn't help but 



THE STRIKE AT SHANE'S, 21 

worry about it, and once I jumped the fence to get to 
it. Then Tom came with a ckib and beat me, and set 
Towser on me. I don't think that Towser is a bit bet- 
ter than Tom." 

" Mr. Chairman, I want to. say a word here," said 
Towser, coming forward. "I admit that I have 
chased all the cattle, horses and hogs on the farm ; but 
I have to do what my master commands me to do, for 
if I don't I will get kicks and blows. I haven't 
inflicted any serious injury on any of you, for my bark 
has alwa^^s been worse than my bite." 

"AYe must not always judge each other by our 
actions," said Dobbin, " for we are sometimes com- 
pelled to do things that we would not do if left to our 
own free wills." 

"More than that," continued the cow, "that good- 
for-nothing Tom beats me and kicks me when he comes 
to milk me. He puts my neck in a stall where I can't 
turn my head around, and if I switch my tail to keep 
the flies off he gets mad and beats me. Why, last night 
he tied my tail to my leg so that I could not switch the 
flies, and a fly got on my back and bit me terribly. I 
couldn't switch it off with my tail, nor scare it off with 
my head. I stood it as long as I could, and then I 
kicked up with both of my feet. I only aimed to scare 
the fly away, but some way I kicked Tom over and 
spilled the bucket of milk all over him, and I'm carry- 
ing the bruises on me where he beat me for it. I don't 
give down my milk very well sometimes, but what en- 
couragement is there for a cow that is tx'eated in that 
manner ? '* 



22 THE ST HIKE AT SHANE'S. 

When the cow had finished, Bay Dick was called on. 

"I don't intend to stand this treatment any longer," 
said Dick. "A horse don't get anything but blows on 
this farm, whether he does right or wrong. I know I've 
got a fiery temper, and always aim to take my own 
part. I'm sorry I ran away the other day and broke 
the colt's leg, but that's done and can't be helped. But 
one thing is certain, I don't intend to submit to this 
treatment any longer." 

The other horses all said "bravo," and "that's 
right." 

' ' I'd be willing to do my share of the work if I was 
treated right," he continued ; " but I get nothing but 
kicks and cuffs, and never a kind word. And there's 
that Tom has been driving me every Sunday night 
down to Tracy's place. He ties me to a strong post 
out in the road, imth my head 2mlled away hack with 
the check-rein^ so that I can't get my head down to 
rest it. Then he goes into the house and stays until 
ten or eleven o'clock^ ivhile I stand there and shiver 
ivith the cold. If he would just put a blanket over me 
I wouldn't suffer so much ; but it's little he ever t»hinks 
of our comfort. I tried to break loose and come home, 
but I couldn't. You all know what old Dobbin has, 
suffered at their hands, and that's what we'll all come 
to in the end." 

This speech was indorsed by them all. 

' ' I don't know that I have any grievance to speak 
of," said a pig. "I have a pretty good time. It's 
true I sometimes get through a hole in the fence, and 
then Towser — 



THE STBIKE AT SHANE'S. 23 

''There it goes again," said Towser. "Always 
blaming me for something I can't help." 

"As I said," continued the pig, "I haven't much 
to complain of, but if I can do anything to help the 
rest of you I will do it." 

' ' There's a hole in the garden fence w'here my chick- 
ens would get in last summer, and then I would have to 
go in and watch them," said a hen. Then some of the 
other hens would get in, and Tom would come and 
throw stones at us. He killed tw^o of my chickens and 
broke my wing. Sometimes he w^ould set Towser on 
us — " 

"There now, I won't stand it any longer," said 
Towser, bristling up. 

"Order, order!" shouted Dobbin; and Towser lay 
down again. 

"I'm kicked and cu.ffed day in and day out," mewed 
Puss. "I try to catch all the rats and mice I can, but 
it don't do any good." 

"Am I allowed to speak?" asked a quail which had 
hopped up on the fence. 

"What reason can you give for appearing in this 
meeting," asked Dobbin. 

"For the reason that I live on insects, and bugs, 
and worms, which would be destructive to the farmer's 
crops. I speak for all classes of birds. It is true that 
w^e eat a little fniit and grain, but that is nothing in 
comparison to the great benefits the farmer receives 
from us. We have added greatly to the prosperity of 
the farm, yet our nests are destroyed, our^oung killed, 



24 THE STllIKE AT SHANE'S. 

and the merciless guns of both Shane and his sou are 
popping away at us all the time." 

"That being the ease, all birds that destroy trouble- 
some insects are admitted to the convention," said 
Dobbin. 

There being no more speakers, Dobbin said the con- 
vention would take a recess for five minutes, and go 
down to the brook and get a drink, after which they 
would discuss the matter as to the best and most con- 
venient remedy for the evils existing on the farm. 




<^*^ 




CHAPTER IV. 




HE meeting hriving re-assembled, Dobbin 
called for suggestions as to the proper 
remedy for their misfortunes, and the 
proper course to pursue. All were silent 
but Bay Dick^ who was in favor of kicking everything 
to pieces on the farm, and to show how it w^as to be 
done he wheeled around and kicked the top rail off the 
fence. 

"If you wdll allow me to make a suggestion," said 
the mule, "perhaps I could give you some ideas on this 
subject." 

" We will hear what you have to say," said Dobbin. 

"I have been in the service of the street car com- 
pany for several years," said the mule, "and I know 
when the street car drivers got dissatisfied with their 
wages they went on a strike. That is, they quit work 
until their difficulties were fixed np in some way, and 
they got what they wanted. I know we mules had an 
easy time of it while the strike lasted. Now, why 
couldn't you all go out on a strike and refuse to work 
until you get better treatment ? " 

"That would probably result in more blows and 
worse treatment instead of better," said Dobbin. 



20 THE STRIKE AT SIMILE'S, 

*'No," said the mule, *'if farmer Shaae had to do 
without you for a while he would perhaps begin to 
appreciate your services, and would come to his senses 
and treat you better.'* 

After some further discussion this plan grew in 
favor and was adopted, and the mule which had been 
in the street car strike gave them full instructions how 
to proceed. 

"I'll not do another day's work,' said Dick, "and 
I'll kick everything to pieces they hitch me to." 

"Hold on there," said the mule, "no violence to 
persons or property. That was the rule in the street 
car strike. Just quit work and let farmer Shane get 
along the best he can." 

"That's right," said Dobbin, "no \dolence in this 
strike." 

"Well, I'll do the best I can to keep cool," said 
Dick, "but they mustn't push me too far." 

"Now, we will hear from each member as to the 
course they intend to pursue," said Dobbin. 

"As for my part," said Dick, who was highly 
delighted with the plan, "I shall pretend to be very 
lame, and stiff in my shoulders." 

"Considering your high temper," said the mule, 
"perhaps it would be better for you to locate your 
lameness in your hind legs." 

"Not much," said Dick, "I may have occasion to 
use my heels before I get through this if they use me 
too severely." 

" I shall stay in the farthest corner of the pasture, 



THE 8TBIKE AT SHANE'S, 2T 

and make Tom come after me every night instead of 
going up to the barn to be milked, as I have always 
done," said the cow, "and I shall give just as little 
milk as possible." 

The other horses all agreed to feign some kind of 
sickness to avoid work. 

"I will not do anything that I can get out of," said 
Towser, "if I have to chase any of you, you needn't 
get scared, for I'll not hurt you. There is one thing 
that I have always done, and that is, kill the moles in 
the yard and garden. They burrow under the ground, 
where puss can't get at them, and I have always made 
it a point to watch for them and kill them. I will not 
kill another mole if they destroy all the garden." 

"I will not kill another rat or mouse on the farm, if 
they eat up all the grain," said Puss. 

"Thank you for that," said a big rat, that came up 
out of a fence corner, where he had been hiding and 
listening. 

^ ' I want you to understand that it is not out of any 
consideration or respect I have for you that I made 
that statement," said Puss, and she walked over 
towards the rat, who immediately dropped back into 
his hole. 

"Quite right and proper," said Dobbin ; "we want 
no such characters in this convention." 

The snake and toad said they would move over to 
the next farm. 

* ' I shall move off the farm just as soon as my mate 
gets well of a wound received the other day from a 



28 THE STBIKE AT SHANE' 8, 

shot from Shane's gun," said the quail, '* and I prom- 
ise you that no quail shall come on this farm this 
summer." 

" I have a grievance against farmer Shane myself," 
said a hawk, that had perched unseen on the top of the 
oak, '' and I will agree to kill all the chickens on the 
farm." 

' ' Put him out ! put him out ! " screamed the hen ; 
and the other birds quickly sought cover. 

"I'll fix him," said the kingbird, and he made a 
quick dash at the hawk, and struck him in the back 
with his sharp beak. 

"I'll help," said the crow; and between them they 
soon drove the hawk away. 

"I spend almost the whole of my time catching 
worms and bugs," chirped the robin. "It is true, 
that is the way I make my living, but those worms 
would destroy many dollars' worth of crops. Last 
summer almost my whole family was killed by Shane 
because we took a few cherries, and I promise you 
there shall not a robin remain on the farm nor catch a 
worm on it this summer.'* 

So said all the birds ; and it was then and there 
arranged that there should be a general emigration of 
birds from the Shane farm. 

" Am I in this?" asked the crow, who had returned 
from driving the hawk away, which he had chased 
clear over to the adjoining farm. 

"Well, that's questionable," said Dobbin. But owing 
to the fact that the crow had chased away the hawk, 



1 



THE STB IKE AT SHANE'S. 29 

Dobbin was disposed to look more kindly on him than 
he otherwise would. 

"Ah! you black rogue," said the hen, "you stole 
an egg out of my nest yesterday. I saw you fly away 
with it." 

" I admit it," said the crow; " but I drove away a 
lat that was just about to steal it, and I thought I 
might take the egg as a reward for driving the rat 
away. Besides, I drive away hawks which would steal 
chickens, and I kill a great many grub worms, and cut- 
worms, and ground mice," continued the crow, " and 
if I'm a part of this strike I'll not kill any more such 
pests, and more than that, I'll move off the farm and 
let the hawks kill all Shane's chickens." 

"Oh! come now," said the hen, "let's compro- 
mise ; you stay here and keep the hawks away, and 
I'll give you an egg now and then." 

" All right," said the crow ; " I'll agree to anything 
to get into good society." 

"I have a few words to say," said the blackbird; 
" I'm black hke the crow, but I don't steal eggs." 

" Yes ; but I saw you pulling up corn down in the 
field yesterday, which is just as bad," said Dobbin. 

" Quite mistaken, I assure you," said the blackbird. 
Sometimes I pull up a sprout of corn, but it is to get 
at the grub worm which is at the root. If I did not 
pull it up the grub would destroy it anyhow, so in the 
end no harm is done by me, but much good, for I 
destroy a worm that would have destroyed many stalks 
of corn before the season is over. We cannot destroy 



30 THE STRIKE AT SHANE'S, 

all the grubworms and cutworms that are in the corn- 
fields, for they are imder ground and we cannot get at 
them. We follow the plow in the spring and get all 
the worms that it turns up. We follow in the summer 
and get all the worms that the cultivator brings to the 
surface. Thousands of crickets and grasshoppers are 
destroyed by us which would injure the wheat and grass 
crops. Hundreds of my species have been killed by 
Shane, and I will promise you that not a worm nor an 
insect shall be killed by a blackbird on the farm this 
summer. More than that, all the blackbirds in this 
section will join me, and each one will carry a few 
grubworms and cutworms and drop them on Shane's 
fields." 

Dobbin thought that carrying worms on the farm for 
the purpose of destroying the crops was contrary to 
the arrangement that no violence should be done to the 
person or property of Shane ; but the birds all insisted 
that it was no more than right that they should have 
this privilege. They thought that was the best way to 
prove to Shane the great amount of damage done by 
these pests. 

Everything being now arranged, the convention 
adjourned to meet again on the following Sunday at 
the same place, and report what had been done. 

^''Wonder tchat all them beasts are gathered around- 
that tree forV said Shane, as he and Tom sauntered 
across the field, laying their plans for the next day's 
work. '' Must be somethin' wrong." 

*' They're just standin' in the shade of that tree, I 



THE STUTKE AT SHAKE'S. 31 

guess," answered Tom; "but it does se^m kind of 
strange, for there's Towser among 'em, an' he don't 
often go very far away from the house." 

" Yes, an' there's some other critter there, too, that 
don't belong to this farm," said Shane. 

" It's a mule," said Tom. " I wonder where in the 
nation he cam^ from ? " 

Shane and Tom having come close enough for the 
animals to see them, the mule started across the field 
to the point whei-e he had jumped the fence. Towser, 
seeing the turn affairs had taken, started after the mule, 
as though chasing it, and made a bee-line for home as 
soon as he was out of sight of Shane. The other 
animals scattered in various directions, and Shane and 
Tom proceeded in the direction the mule had taken to 
see where it had gotten in. 




CHAPTER V. 




ONDAY morning came bright and fair, and 
Shane was up at dawn. He fed the horses, 
and seeing the sorrel horse lying down, he 
thoiighu the horse was still sleeping, and 
threw a corncob at him. 

"Come, wake up there, lazy bones," he shouted, 
but the only response was a groan. 

" What in the nation is the matter now? " he asked 
himself, as he went around in the stable and gave the 
horse a poke with the fork handle. 

" Get up here," he shouted, and gave the horse 
another poke with the fork handle. The sorrel got up 
on his feet, but stood with his head down. 

"He'd better not try that with me," said Dick, to 
himself, in an undertone, as he munched his corn. 

"Looks like a sick horse, sure," said Shane. "I 
never knew that horse to refuse to eat before. Fire 
and thunder ! " he exclaimed, as he looked in the gray 
mare's stall, and saw that she had not touched her corn. 
" Somebody must have poisoned these horses." 

He led the sorrel horse and gray mare out in the 
l)arn-yard, where they rolled around and made a great 
show of having the colic. 

"Tom, come here!" shouted Shane, as Tom came 



THE 8TBIKE AT SHANE'S, 33 

sauntering down the path with his milk pail. " You 
put the saddle on Dick, an' go down an' get Hodges 
as quick as you can." . 

Tom did as he was commanded ; but when he at- 
tempted to bring Dick out of the stable he pretended 
to be so stiff that he could not get out. Shane was 
called up and made acquainted with the state of affairs. 

"What in the nation do you suppose is the matter 
with 'em?" he asked, still more astounded. " 'Tain't 
no founder, for they haven't been overfed." 

''I've an idea that it's some of that mule's work," 
said Tom. "Like as not he's been kicked." 

" I reckon one mule wouldn't kick all the horses on 
the place," said Shane, as they examined him for hoof 
marks and found none. 

"Well, you'll just have to walk down to town an' get 
Hodges, an' be quick about it." 

"It does beat all," said Shane, as he returned to the 
house. " There's no misfortune flyin' that don't 'light 
on this farm." 

" What is the matter now?" asked Mrs. Shane. 

' ' Why, every horse on the farm is disabled in one 
way or another," said Shane. 

' ' Well, I thought you were working those horses too 
hard," said Mrs. Shane. "You should remember, 
John, that horses are not machines that can go on for- 
ever. You should judge their feelings something by 
your own. You raised Mike's wages for working over 
time, hut tvhat have you given these horses for their 
overwork'^ Have you given them any better care or 
better food?" 



34 THE STRIKE AT SHANE'S. 

*'0h, you have foolish uotious about such things, 
an' yon and me will never agree on them pints," said 
Shane. 

"It is true, nevertheless, that if you would give 
your horses better care, and lighter work, you would 
be the gainer in the end," said Mrs. Shane. 

"How can I help it," said Shane ; " here's only three 
horses left on the farm, an' I've got to get all the work 
I can out of 'em." 

"It was overwork that put Dobbin in the shape he is 
now in," said Mrs. Shane. "If he had been properly 
cared for, and not been given work he couldn't do, he 
would have worked all summer." 

"Well, what's done can't be undone ; an' I've got to 
get them horses on their feet again. Them foolish 
notions of yours won't make any money on the farm ; 
so there's no use discussin' 'em." 

"Time will show," was Mi-s. Shane's parting shot. 

Hodges soon arrived, and worked on the horses all 
day, and at night they did not seem any better than 
when he began. He said they were the most peculiar 
and stubborn cases he had ever seen. Dick had sev- 
eral quiet laughs at the expense of the other horses 
because they had to take nasty medicine, while his 
treatment was external. Hodges said he couldn't see 
what was the matter with the horses, unless their con- 
stitutions were entirely broken down by overwork. He 
left in the evening with instructions that if the horses 
were not better by morning to let him know. 

"Did you see that big flock of blackbirds down in 



THE STRIKE AT SHAKE'S. 35 

the lower field," inquired Shane of Tom at the supper 
table that evening. 

"Yes," said Tom ; "there must have been hundreds 
of 'em." 

' ' You must get out early with the shot-gun in the 
mornin,' or there won't be a grain of corn left in the 
ground." 

" Mr. Tracy says that blackbirds do more good than 
harm," said Edith. "He says that all birds destroy 
bugs and worms." 

' ' Tracy has got lots of fool notions in his head that 
there ain't any money in," said Shane. 

"Well, I think it's cruel to shoot birds that don't 
know they are doing any harm. I'm sure you wouldn't 
want to be shot for doing something that you didn't know 
was wrong," replied Edith. 

The further discussion of the matter was postponed 
by Shane, who said he had more serious things to think 
about. 

"Mornin' to ye, Tom," said Mike, as he met Tom 
in the lane, gun in hand, bent on destroying blackbirds. 

' ' What be ye goin' to shoot this mornin' ? " 

"Blackbirds," replied Tom. 

"Begorra, there's plinty of 'em," said Mike. 

" It looks like I would get a chance to use my gun," 
said Tom. 

" Thim's quare birds, now, Tom. I was watchin' 
'em yisterday an' begorra, do ye know, I think they're 
plantin' corn instid o' takin' it up ; for I see 'em a 
droppin' somethin' white all over the field, and there be 



36 THE STBIKE AT SHANE'S. 

hundreds of 'em at it. But how is thim horses this 
mornin'?" 

"No better ; an' the old man is as mad as a hornet," 
said Tom, as he passed on down the lane in search of 
blackbirds. There was abundance of them, and Tom 
thought he would have fine sport killing them, but they 
were on the alert, and not a bird did he succeed in kill- 
ing, although he tramped around the fields until he was 
tired out. 

"Tom, you surely didn't milk that cow dry," said 
Mrs. Shane ; "you didn't get half as much milk as you 
usually do." 

"She wouldn't give down her milk," said Tom. 
"The old brute needed a good beating — and she got it, 
too." 

"You must not ill-treat that cow," said Mrs. Shane. 
* * Nothing will ruin a good cow as soon as cruel treat- 
ment. If you won't treat the cow right I will have to 
do the milking myself." 

"It ain't my fault that she is so mean," said Tom, 
as he walked out in the yard, and discovering a bird's 
nest in the cedar tree, picked up a long pole and began 
to punch at it, when Edith came out and saw him. 

"Tom Shane, what are you doing ? " she cried ; " you 
leave that bird's nest alone." 

"I won't," he said. "It's a nasty old robin's nest, 
and I don't want 'em here." 

"They don't hurt anything, and do lots of good, 
and sing so nice." 

"They steal cherries, and don't do any good," said 
Tom ; "an' who cares for their singin' ? " 



THE STB IKE AT SHANE'S. 37 

"I do, and Cora Tracy does, and so does mamma. 
Cora and I watched them building that nest day before 
yesterday. They didn't come back to-day ; and I 
believe you have done something to them. I'll tell 
Cora if you tear it down," she said, as Tom made 
another vigorous punch at the nest. 

"Don't care if you do," said Tom, as he gave an- 
other punch at the tree with his pole ; but- he was care- 
ful, however, not to strike the nest, and laid down his 
pole and walked away. Tom was just at the age when 
the influence of the gentler sex was most powerful 
over him, and he hesitated to do anything that might 
bring him into disfavor with Cora Tracy. 

"Oh ! mamma, do come here and see," cried Edith, 
the next day, as she was walking around in the yard. 
"The moles have eaten up all the tulips." 

Mrs. Shane came out to see the wreck of her beauti- 
ful tulip bed. 

" Here, Towser ! come and hunt the moles," called 
Mrs. Shane to Towser, who lay on the porch. He came 
down slowly and walked up to Mrs. Shane, and licked 
her hand. He then started down the path, barking as 
though he saw some one, • 

"Here, Towser! come back now, and hunt the 
moles." Towser came back, and Mrs. Shane pointed 
to the burrow and told him to hunt, but he hung his 
head and walked away. 

"Why, what ails the dog?" said Mrs. Shane, "I 
never saw him act so." 

"Towser, you naughty dog," cried Edith, "why 



38 THE STBIKE AT SHANE'S. 

don't you mind ? " — but Towser was gone. He remem- 
bered his promise, and kept it, but he felt so mean that 
he went around in the back yard and growled at Tom, 
until he received a kick, and then he felt better. 

The next day the pigs were in the garden, and Edith 
called Towser to run them out. He lay still with hW\ 
nose between his paws, and apparently paid no atten- 
tion to her. 

"You naughty, lazy dog. You shall not have any 
supper for that," cried Edith, as she went after the 
pigs. 




CHAPTER VI. 




N the following Sunday the beasts and birds 
of the Shane farm met at the appointed 
place under the oak tree. Some of them 
looked rather the worse for the past week's 
experience ; but all had a determined air, and looked 
willing to add a little more to the usual amount of suf- 
fering, if it would assist them in bettering their condi- 
tion. 

Dobbin called the meeting to order and stated that 
they would now hear from each one as to their experi- 
ences of the past week. Owing to the fact that Mrs. 
Shane had insisted that Dobbin should not be worked 
any more, he was an independent character on the 
farm. He had not been expected to work, and, as a 
consequence, had not been ill treated. 

Bay Dick pranced forward, and said he was not so 
lame as he had been. "However, I am liable to be 
lame in good earnest if they give me much more of the 
treatment that I have received for the past week. I 
tell you it is hard to keep my heels down and not kick 
things to pieces. I haven't kicked any this week, 
though I don't promise for the future, for I have put up 
with about all the abuse I can stand without striking 

D8(C£* sq 



40 THE STRIKE AT SHANE'S. 

''Keep cool," said Dobbin; ''let us all work to- 
gether and be patient." 

"Patience is a virtue I don't boast of,** said Dick ; 
*'but I will do the best I can." 

The sorrel said that playing sick was about as hard 
as working, for he had been going hungry all the week, 
a sick horse, of course, not being expected to eat. 
He could get along all right as long as they would turn 
him out in the pasture, where he could crop the grass 
without being seen ; but when they shut him up in the 
stable they could tell how much he ate. 

The gray mare had the same experience, but they 
both promised to hold out to the end, if it took all 
summer, and they got so thin that they had to stand 
twice in the same place to make a shadow. 

"I have had a pretty rough time of it," said the 
cow. "The only way I could get even was by not 
giving milk, and the only way I could keep from giv- 
ing milk was not to eat. I have had to starve myself 
for the whole week, but I have the satisfaction of know- 
ing that they have not had enough milk in the family ; 
and that good-for-nothing Tom has not had any milk 
to drink for one week. No doubt I am looking pretty 
thin, but I am determined not to give any milk if I can 
help it. I have received several beatings from Tom, 
because he says I won't give down my milk, and I 
kicked him once." 

"That is quite heroic on your part," said Dobbin. 
"Who is the next?" 

* ' There never was a dog hac^ as hard a time as I 



THE STBIKE AT SHANE'S, 41 

do," said Towser. "I have tried not to do anything, 
but I get so many kicks and blows that I have to pre- 
tend to do something to keep them from beating me to 
death. By 'them' I mean Mr. Shane and Tom, for 
Mrs. Shane and Edith are as kind as they can be. I 
haven't killed a mole this week, and they ate up all of 
Mrs Shane's flowers. I was awfully sorry about that 
for I haven't anything against Mrs. Shane. And then 
when Edith told me to drive the hogs out of the garden 
I wouldn't go, and she had to go and drive them out 
herself. I licked her hand afterwards and tried to 
make up with her, but she wouldn't, and said I was a 
lazy dog. I'll make it all up to her when this strike is 
over." 

"I just had to lay an egg every day," said the hen, 
"but I made a nest away back under the barn where 
they couldn't find it, and then went up in the hay-mow 
and cackled. I know they haven't found any eggs for 
they are all there, except what I gave the crow, and I 
think he earned them, for I haven't seen a hawk for a 
week." 

"The rats and mice are about to take the place, for 
I haven't bothered them this week," said puss. ' ' When 
I get hungry for a mouse, I go over to the next farm 
to get it. Shane said I ought to be starved into catch- 
ing mice. Humph ! there are mice to catch in other 
places than here. I won't starve." 

"I have done my part," said the crow. "The hen 
has been giving me eggs to eat, and I have spent my 
spare time in carrying worms and dropping them on the 



42 THE STRIKt: AT SHANE'S, 

fields, and I have had about a hundred of my friends 
at the same work. No wonder the hen has not seen a 
hawk this week, for no hawk will ever come around 
where a hundred crows are." 

"You have no doubt seen the result of my work,", 
said the blackbird. "I have had some hundreds of | 
my friends at work carrying worms and insects on toj 
the farm and dropping them. There will be enough 
worms on the farm within the next week to eat up all 
the crops this summer." 

"I don't think that is right," said Dobbin, "for; 
Shane may change his mind before the season is over, \ 
and then we would be sorry for what we have done." 

"Oh! don't worry about that," said the blackbird. 
' ' I have explained the matter to them, and they have \ 
all agreed to assist in carrying all the worms and insects ^ 
off again, if events should take a favorable turn for us. 
We'll make that all right." 

"With that understanding, I consent that the work^ 
go on," said Dobbin. 

" Tom has been chasing us all the week with his gun, \ 
but we keep out of his way. It's open war between 
us from now on, and we'll see which wins,'* said the 
blackbird. 

The other birds said they had been engaged in simi- 
lar work, and that there was not now a single bird of 
any kind on the farm. 

While this meeting was going on, Shane had gone 
over to the Tracy farm to see if he could not get Mr. 
Tracy to help him out with his work. 



THE STRIKE AT SHAKE'S. 4S 

"it seems like fate is agin me this year," said 
Shane. "What little crops I have got in are about to 
be taken by the birds. It keeps Tom all the time to 
keep 'em out of the corn.'* 

"You and I have different views about such things," 
said Mr. Tracy. " / consider the birds my best friends; 
I wouldn't part ivith them for any money, and I don't 
allow a bird shot on my farm." 

"I never could see it in that light," said Shane. 
' ' I know they pull up the corn and there's enough 
blackbirds on my farm to take all the corn I can 
plant." 

"Why, there's just as many on my farm and they 
follow the plow and pick up every worm and bug they 
can find. I'm satisfied that the work done for me this 
spring by blackbirds alone is worth fifty dollars to me, 
and they are not half done yet. I have a great deal 
more work for them to do for me before the season is 
over. Why, the birds are one of God's best gifts to us, 
and we ought to give Him thanks for sending them. 
They are not only a benefit to us in money, but their 
songs brighten our lives and make our homes more 
pleasant." 

"I never have time to listen to their singin'," said 
Shane, "and as for their usefulness, I think they 
injure us more than they do us good." 

"Well, I hope you will see things in a different light 
some time, and be able to understand what a good gift 
they are to us." 

"I never can see things like you do," said Shane ; 



44 THE STB IKE AT SHAN^e'S, 

'*an* it's no use for us to argy for we can't agree. 
When luck begins to run agin a man there's no stoppin' 
it. Now there's all them horses of mine cKsabled, an' 
I don't know what to do." 

" Now to be candid, friend Shane, don't you think you 
are in a measure responsible for the condition of your 
horses ? Now there's old Dobbin would have been able 
to do light work all summer if he had not been over- 
worked, but he is not fit for any work now." 

"Yes ; an' I'd get rid of him if it wasn't for Mary. 
I don't believe in keeping useless animals just out of 
sympathy." 

"Oh! come now; you don't think God gave man 
dominion over the lower animals just that we might 
tyrannize over them, and abuse them? There is no 
record of any crime they ever committed against the 
laws of God, or any disobedience to His will that 
should lead Him to give man dominion over them as a 
means of punishment ; but, on the contrary, it seems as 
though He has given them to us to be useful to us, 
and make our lives happier. There is a limit to our 
dominion, and that limit has been exceeded by you, in 
the case of old Dobbin, at least. You had long years 
of service from him, and he had grown too old for the 
work you put on him. The same reason would proba- 
bly hold good with the other horses, for I think you 
have overworked them this spring. I say it in all 
kindness to you ; but I think you have got into the 
habit of looking at things in the wrong light, and 
are measuring things by a fslse standard." 



THE STBIKE AT SHANE'S, 45 

*' You may be right about the matter," said Shane ; 
' ' but I don't see how a man is to get along in the 
world if he don't push things." 

"That depends on what you mean by pushing things, 
and getting along in the world. If the getting of 
money is the aim of life it might be to our interest to 
^^-ring the last pound of strength from our beasts that 
could be got out of them, but I believe it is a good 
policy Dot only to get happiness for ourselves, hut to 
make them happy too ; and I don't think I ever lost 
anything by that policy." 

"Well, we can't agree on these questions," said 
Shane, "and what I want to know is if you will help 
me out a little with my work, when you get your crop 
in." 

"Why, certainly, I am always willing to help a 
neighbor when he is in trouble. Let me see : the boys 
will have that lower field broke up by the middle of the 
week, and then I will send you one team on one con- 
dition, neighbor Shane." 

"What is that?" asked Shane. 

' ' That you will apply my principles in regard to the 
lower animals to my horses. That you will treat them 
as kindly as I would treat them, and be as merciful to 
them as you would to me, if I went over to help you." 

"I agree to that," said Shane, "an' appreciate 
your kindness, I am sure." 

Shane took his departure and went on to Abner 
Smith's, who lived on the next farm. Abner Smith 
was a bluff old fellow who always spoke hi§ mind, and 



46 THE STBIKE AT SHANE'S. 

was always free to criticise anything that did not suit 
him, but his criticisms always had a ring of sincerity, 
as being the result of honest conviction. Justice to 
all things, both man and beast, was the ruling princi- 
ple of his life. Shane's errand here was the same as 
at Tracy's, and he related his troubles and asked for the 
use of a team in getting his corn planted. 

"Well, I'm always neighborly," said Smith, "an' I 
think I can spare you a team by the middle of the week, 
an' I'll send my boy John along to drive it for you." 

"That is not necessary," said Shane; "I have 
plenty of hands. What I want is horses ; Tom can 
drive the team, if you will let me have it." 

"I'd rather my boy John would go along with the 
team," said Smith. " It shan't cost you nothin'. You 
see the team is used to John, an' then they do say that 
you are a ha^'d man on bosses, neighbor Shane, an' 
mine ain't used to bein' ill treated." 

"Well, suit yourself about that. By the w^ay, I'll 
send Tom over to work in John's place, if you insist 
on sending John with the team." 

"That's fair," said Smith. "If you don't need the 
boy, just send him over an' I'll find work for him." 

Farmer Shane returned home feeling more cheerful 
than he had for some days ; but he didn't feel right 
about the way Tracy and Smith had talked about his 
treatment of his horses and other animals. 

"The idea," he soliloquized, "that I don't know as 
much about how to use a horse as Abner Smith. Why. 
I*ve owned two horses to his one, an' have wore out 



THE STRIKE AT SHANE'S. 47 

more fiorses than he ever owned. I'd get more work 
out of the horses if he'd let Tom drive 'em, but then 
I'll have to do the best I can. An' then there's Tracy's 
horses ; I'll use them m^^self , an' may be John will get 
ashamed of himself if he don't do as much.asldo 
with Tracy's team ; but then I promised Tracy that I 
wouldn't use his team hard, an' if I did he would nevei; 
forgive me. John would just be mean enough to go 
right away an' tell Tracy if I did get a full day's work 
out of 'em. Well, I'll just have to do the best I can, 
but I do hate to have to work with people who have 
such cranky notions. It's strange they can't see that 
it pays better to work a horse for all there is in him, 
an' when he's wore out shoot him or give him away. 
I tell you time is worth more than horse flesh." 

Such were the thoughts of a man who was intent on 
money getting. He forgot that the same God who 
created him created the lower animals, and that the 
dominion God gave him over them was a trust to be 
executed mercifully. 




CHAFPER VII. 




HE days went by, and Tracy and Smith sent 
their teams, and the work went merrily on 
at the Shane farm, and it looked like the 
corn would be planted in pretty good time 
yet. Shane's horses were not improving in appearance 
any, and he had spent the price of a horse in fees to 
Hodges to treat them. He hoped to get them cured 
by the time the corn was ready for the cultivator, but 
the first thing was to get the corn planted. 

The work went steadily on, and by the middle of the 
next week the last hill was in the ground, and Shane 
was astonished at the amount of work that could be 
done by two teams, when they were worked according 
to Tracy's and Smith's plans; for he had kept his 
promise to Tracy to treat the team well. He had given 
them proi)er rest during the day, proper care at night, 
and had worked them a reasonable number of hours. 
He remarked that " Smith an' Tracy had two might} 
good teams. They just go right along an' do what 
they are told to do without any fuss or trouble.'* Yet 
he could not understand that it was the kind treatment 
that these horses received that made them work so 
cheerfully. 

"There's an awful sight o' grubworms in this soil," 



4-^ 



TRE 8TBIKE AT SHANS'S. 49 

said John Smith, as he and Shane were breaking up 
the ground for corn. "If them blackbirds that's, a 
hangin* around in the woods would come down an' pick 
'em up it would be many a dollar in your pocket." 

"I ain't got any use for blackbirds," said Shane. 
"The pesky things will be around when the corn's 
planted to pull it up. I'd rather take my chances agin 
the worms than the birds. If I bad a gun, I'd start 
them black rascals out of there." 

"They'll pick up a sight of worms if you'll let 'em," 
said John. " Father don't allow us to kill birds. He 
says they more than pay their way." 

"Maybe they do for some people, but they don't 
for me," said Shane. 

The birds were confining their work to the fields, and 
were not seen about the house. This was observed 
soonest by Edith, who was very fond of birds. 

"How strange it is, mamma, that there are no birds 
this summer," said Edith. 

" I have noticed it," said Mrs. Shane. "Perhaps 
they have not come yet." 

" Oh ! 3^es they have," said Edith, "there's just lots 
of them over at Tracy's, and lots of nests. I don't 
see why they don't build any nests here. It seems so 
lonesome here without them. I think papa and Tom 
are cruel to shoot them and drive them away, and I 
told papa so." 

"Don't worry your papa anymore than you can 
help, Edie," said Mrs. Shane. "He has had a great 
deal of trouble this spring." 



50 THE 8TBIKE AT SHANE'S. 

*'Well, mamma, don't you thiDk he has brought a 
great deal of this trouble on himself ? " 

"Perhaps so, Edie ; but your papa has ideas about 
things that are different from ours. He looks at ever}^- 
thing from a money point of view." 

' ' I don't think that people who look at things only 
from a money point of view," said Edith, "get much 
happiness." 

"Your papa is doing what he thinks is for the best, 
and is looking ahead to save up something for you and 
Tom." 

"Well, I don't want him to make himself miserable 
all his life to save up money for me. I would rather 
he poor and he hapx^y^ and have people and animals 
and hirds to love me. If papa would read the books I 
borrowed from Cora Tracy he would find out that birds 
are useful, and instead of trying to kill them and drive 
them away, he would be glad to have them come." 

' ' Your papa has so many cares that he don't have 
time to read," said Mrs. Shane. 

Edith sat for some time in silence, gazing out over 
the fields, and up in the blue sky. 

' ' It seems to me like something dreadful is going to 
happen," she said. "Everything seems so gloomy 
around here ; it doesn't seem like the same place." 

"The bad luck your papa has had this spring makes 
us all feel down-hearted. Perhaps it is all for the best, 
and we can only hope that it will come out all right." 

"I don't think it will come out all right," said Edith. 
"I don't think papa is doing right to drive away the 



THE STRIKE AT SHANE'S, 51 

birds, and work the horses to death ; and Mr. Tracy 
thinks the same thing, for Cora told me so, and I'm 
going to have a talk with papa about it." 

"It is quite useless to annoy him about it," said 
Mrs. Shane. "His mind is made up, and he will not 
change it." 

This reply did not settle the matter with Edith, for 
she was determined to talk with her father about the 
matter, but she did not expect the opportunity to come 
in the manner it did. 

The days slipped by and the corn was coming up, 
but the difficulties on the Shane farm had not improved 
any. The horses were still not fit for use, and Hodges* 
could not tell when they would be. 

"I don't believe there's anything the matter with 
that bay Dick," said Shane, "and I'm not going to 
fool with him any longer. He eats as hearty as ever, 
and I saw him down in the pasture trotting around as 
limber as any horse. I'm goin' to hitch him up an' 
make him work or break his neck. Here's the corn 
comin' up an' some of the horses have got to go in the 
field pretty soon." 

Having come to this conclusion, he said he would 
hitch Dick up to the cart and drive him to town, and 
see if he couldn't limber him up under the whip. 

"Do be careful," said Mrs. Shane, "you know that 
horse has a bad temper." 

" Oh ! I guess Dick knows me by this time, and he 
knows I won't stand au}^ nonsense. If he's as lame as 
he pretends to be, it won't be much trouble to handle 
him." 



52 THE STRIKE AT SHANE'S. 

Accordingly the harness was put on Dick, and he 
was hitched to the cart. He stumbled around like a 
very lame horse, and made a very bad show of getting 
along. No one but Shane would have undertaken to 
drive him in the condition he appeared to be in. 

"Poor Dick," said Edith, as Shane stopped at the 
house; "I don't think papa ought to drive him when 
he is so lame," and she i)atted his neck and smoothed 
out his long mane. "Don't drive him hard, papa," 
she continued, "and I'm sure he'll do the best he 
can." 

Shane made no reply, but drove away toward town. 
The drive to town and return was a slow one, for even 
Shane's hard heart would not permit him to drive a 
lame horse out of a walk. Shane was rather proud 
of the fact that he had succeeded in driving Dick, and 
said that all the horse needed was exercise, and he 
would be at work in a few d?.ys. He thought, per- 
haps, a little exercise would do the rest of the horses 
good. 

The next day Shane proceeded to hitch Dick up 
again for the purpose of driving him. 

" There's no use talkin'," he said to Mike, " 1 have 
got to put these horses to work." 

" Bether go slow," said Mike, "for if ye put thim 
sick horses to work too soon ye may have dead ones." 

"It is better to have dead horses than useless ones, 
just standin' round eatin'. A /lead horse don't eat 
anything. It would be money in my pocket if they 
were all dead," and he gave Dick a sharp cut with the 



TH:^ 8TBIKE AT SHAKE'S. 53 

whip to start him. Dick laid back his ears and hob- 
bled away ; hut his looks appeared to indicate that a 
very little of the ichip ivoidd limber him up too much 
for the good of Shane's hecdth. Edith being away 
there was no one to give the horse a kind word to put 
him in a better humor. Shane mounted the cart and 
clacked to the horse to start, but Dick stood still. 
He had, evidently, made up his' mind that he did not 
want to work that day. Shane gave him a cut with 
the whip, but Dick laid back his ears and shook his 
head, as much as to say, "there is trouble coming 
for somebody." 

"You won't go, eh?" said Shane, and he gave the 
horse blow after blow with the whip, almost cutting the 
hide open. Dick made a lunge forward, but Shane 
pulled with all his strength on the reins, and the hard 
bit cut the horse's mouth until it bled, and threw Dick 
back on his haunches. The sudden halt threw Shane 
forward, and the reins were slackened. This was 
Dick's opportunity, and he seized the bit in his teeth, 
a trick horses learn when they are abused, and which 
they practise to save themselves from punishment by 
the bit. Before Shane could recover himself, Dick 
bad started down the road, forgetting all about his stiff 
legs. Shane pulled on the reins until his arms ached, 
but it was the strength of a man against the strength 
of a horse. It was the steel bit against the teeth of 
the horse, now, and the teeth won. Down the road 
they flew with the speed of the wind. They neared 
the bend in the road, and Shane knew that the end would 



54 THE STBIKE AT SHANE'S. 

come there, for he never could make the turn without 
upsetting the cart, but he was helpless. Straight at 
the fence went Dick, paying no attention to the turn 
of the road, and with a bound he went over, and the 
cart was smashed to splinters. Shane lay beside the 
road unconscious, and to all appearance dead. 

Dick kicked himself free from the harness and sped 
across the field, thankful that he had the privilege to 
use his legs once more. Shane had spent his life 
among horses, but had never learned until now that he 
could not subdue a high-spirited horse by force. 

Mrs. Shane had seen the horse start and feared the 
result. An elevation in the road had cut off her view, 
after the horse had passed down the road a few rods, 
and she knew nothing of the result. She called Mike 
and Tom from the barn and told them what had 
occurred. 

"Oh! that's all right, mother; I guess father can 
manage him, as lame as he is," said Tom. "He won't 
run very far before he will get tired." 

"Begorra, I'm not so sure of that," said Mike ; "it's 
a fiery temper the horse has, an' whin his blood's up 
he's hard to manage." 

"I would rather you would go after him and see if 
anything has happened," said Mrs. Shane. 

"Why, how useless that would be, mother; there 
ain't a horse on the farm we could drive, an' we 
couldn't catch him on foot." 

" I shall not rest until I know," said Mrs. Shane. 

"Don't worry about that. Father knows too much 



THE STUIKE AT SHANE'S, 55 

about horses to let Dick get away from him that way," 
said Tom. "Come, Mike, let's go back to work." 

Shane still lay beside the road unconscious. He had 
ti-ied to manage the horse by brute force, and here was 
the result — the horse prancing over the field, exulting 
in his freedom, and the man lying unconscious beside 
the road. The horse had not expended a tithe of his 
strength, and the man was as helpless as the dead. 

At the time of the accident Edith was visiting Cora 
Tracy, and in the afternoon Mr. Tracy had occasion 
to hitch up his wagon and drive down the road on an 
errand to another farm, and as he was going by the 
Shane farm he told Edith she could ride with him. ' She 
gladly accepted his in\itation, for it would save her a 
long walk. 

"I always like to ride behind your horses," said 
Edith, as they drove along ; "they look so happy and 
contented." 

"That's the way I want them to be," said Mr. 
Tracy. "They deserve to be happy just as much as 
I do, or any of my family." 

* ' Do you think animals know anything about happi- 
ness or unhappiuess ? " said Edith ; "that is, I mean do 
they know when we love them, and can they love us 
in return ? " 

"That is a hard question to answer," said Tracy; 
"but I think their actions indicate that they appre- 
ciate love and kindness as much as a human being 
does ; but whether they understand such things as we 
do or not, I cannot tell. I have always made it a rule 



56 THE STRIKE AT SHANE'S. 

to treat them as though they did. This is especially 
the case with horses and dogs. I find that I can get 
much better service out of them by treating them 
kindly ; and then I feel better myself when I have 
treated all the brute creation fairly, and have dealt 
justly by them." 

"I wish papa would look at things as you do, and 
would take more interest in the welfare of his dumb 
animals," said Edith. 

' ' I should think a good little teacher like you could 
teach him something about such things," said Tracy. 

"He won't listen to me," said Edith. "He says I 
am too young to know much about such things." 

"Why, how is this?" exclaimed Tracy, as they 
passed along the road in the vicinity of the wreck, and 
saw Dick over in the field. "Here is a horse running 
loose with a bridle on and part of the harness. Why, 
it looks like" — he paused in his remark, for he recog- 
nized the horse as Mr. Shane's. 

"It looks like Dick," said Edith, taking up the sen- 
tence and finishing it for him ; "but it can't be, for 
Dick is lame and this horse is not." 

" It looks like some one has been in trouble, but I 
don't see any indications of it on the road. That is 
one way that high-spirited horses have of retaliating 
for ill-usage on the part of their masters," he con- 
tinued, as they drove along the road. On nearing the 
turn of the road he saw evidences of the wreck made 
by Dick ; but Edith's bright eyes had seen it before he 
did. 



THE STBIKE AT SHAXE'S. 57 

.**0h! Mr. Tracy, there has been a runaway, and 
there is a man lying beside the road. Oh ! I know it 
must be papa. Do please drive faster and let us see." 

Mr. Tracy needed no urging on this point, for he had 
already started his horses into a trot. As they neared 
the place the cause of the trouble was apparent. 
Edith leaped from the wagon and was at her father's 
side in a moment. 

" Oh ! dear, dear papa, speak to me," she sobbed, as 
she lifted his head in her arms. " Oh ! Mr. Tracy, is 
he dead?" she asked, between her sobs. 

"He is not dead, my dear girl, but very badly 
injured, I am afraid," he answered. " Can you stay 
here with him until I go for assistance ? " 

" No, no, don't go away ; I can help you lift him in 
the wagon and we will take him home." 

"Why, my dear girl, you have not strength to help 
me lift him." 

" Oh ! yes I have, Mr. Tracy ; I am strong. Come, 
let me help." 

"Well, if you insist, we will try it," he said; and 
they lifted him up and succeeded in getting him into 
the wagon, and drove as rapidly as possible to the 
Shane farm. When they arrived Edith hastened to the 
house and met her mother on the porch. Edith's 
swollen eyes told the whole story to Mrs. Shane, and 
she clasped her daughter in her arms and sobbed : " Is 
he dead, Edie? is he dead?" 

"No, mamma; only hurt," she replied, trying to 
keep up a stout heart. 



B8 THE STBIKE AT SHANE'S. 

Mrs. Shane hastened out to the wagon, and Edith 
hurried away in search of Tom and Mike, who came 
and carried Mr. Shane into the house. Mr. Tracy 
immediately went for the doctor. 

" Now, Jerry and Tom, you'll have to trot," he said 
to his horses, as he touched them lightly with the whip. 
"It's a case of life and death, old boys, so skip along." 
And the good horses skimmed over the ground in the 
best of humor, and soon returned with the doctor. 

On examination Shane was found to have a broken 
leg, and a contusion on the head. He remained in a 
semi-unconscious condition for the rest of the day. 
On the following morning he rallied, but had no recol- 
lection of the accident until Mrs. Shane explained the 
matter to him. The bitterest pang to him now was the 
thought of the two long months of enforced idleness 
and suffering that were before him. 




CHAFrER VII r. 




HE story of the accident was soon spread 

abroad over the farm, and was commented 

on by all the animals ; but the general 

opinion seemed to be that there would be 

one person less to abuse them — for a w^hile anyhow. 

" I'm sorry Tom wasn't fixed somehow so that he 
couldn't get out here to beat us," said the cow. 

"I don't like that w^ay of doing," said Dobbin to 
Dick. "You went too far in that matter. Of course 
everybody will know now that you were playing off, 
and they may see through the whole thing, and that 
will result in more violence." 

"Well, what is done can't be undone," said Dick, 
my temper got away with me, and I was tired of sham- 
ming. If I had been really lame Shane would have 
driven me just the same. I was lame for all he knew 
to the contrary, and when he whipped me I started to 
run before I had time to think. I knew I might as 
well make a complete job of it while I was at it ; for 
Shane would know I was shamming anyhow, and I 
would have to fight it out with him sometime. You 
see, I had put myself in a position where I had to fight 
or surrender, and I preferred to fight," '^ 



60 THE STBIKE AT SHANE'S. 

"It's a very bad piece of business," said Dobbin, 
"and may make trouble for all of us. You should 
have kept your temper." 

"I tried to and failed, as you see," said Dick. " I 
have neither your age nor experience in such matters, 
and make bad breaks sometimes." 

"We will have to take some other means of protect- 
ing ourselves when Shane gets about again," said Dob- 
bin ; "but that won't be for a good many days, so 
Towser says." 

"It's open war with me now," said Dick. " I don't 
intend that the harness shall go on my back again until 
this matter is settled. Towser was saying the other 
day that Shane said if ever we did get able to work 
he would make us pay dear for our vacation." 

The days were long and tedious for Shane as he lay 
on his bed and brooded over his troubles. To his 
physical suffering was added the worry about the con- 
dition of things on the farm. Mrs. Shane and the 
children tried to keep all further trouble from him by 
putting the condition of things in their most favorable 
light, but he understood his business too thoroughly 
to be deceived. 

"Tom, how long before that corn will be ready for 
the cultivator?" asked Shane, as Tom was passing 
through the room. 

"I don't know," said Tom, "but when it is the 
neighbors will all come in and plow it over for you." 

"Did the blackbirds take much of it?" 

"I don't think they took any of it," said Tom. 

" Is it a good stand ? " 



TBE STRIKE AT SHANE'S. 61 

*'It is good enough," replied Tom ; "don't worry 
about that ; it will come out all right." 

"But I do worry about it. There is something 
wrong about it; I can tell it by your actions. Come, 
out with it. One more misfortune won't kill me after 
I've gone through what I have." 

"Well, if you must know," s?id Tom, "the corn 
is not a good stand." 

" Not a good stand? What is the reason?" 

"If you must know about it I might as well tell you 
all about it. The corn crop is a failure. The worms 
have taken every stock of it, and it will have to be 
planted over. Now there ain't any use to worry over 
it, for Mr. Tracy said that the neighbors would come 
in and plow up the ground and replant it ; but he was 
afraid you would not raise much corn there on account 
.of the worms." 

"Was Tracy's corn destroyed by the worms?" 

' No. " 

"Nor Smith's?" 

"No." 

"Nor anybody's else ? " 

"Nobody's around here." 

"Then fate is agin me, an' I give up the fight," 
said Shane. 

"Mr. Tracy says there is something peculiar about 
your corn, an' he says he can't account for it unless it 
is because there ain't no birds here to take the worms. 
Mother an' Edie have been talkin' about there bein' no 
birds here ; but I never noticed it particular till Tracy 



62 THE STBIKE AT SHANE'S. 

spoke about it. But I don't believe that had anything 
to do with it." 

"I don't go nothin' on them foolish notions of his," 
said Shane; "but it does look like there's a kind of 
a fate follerin' me this spring." 

" Well, don't worry over it, an' we'll plant it over 
again, an' may be it will come out all right in the 
end." 

"There'll be nothin' in it this year. If the worms 
took it once they'll take it again, an' we'll get nothin' 
out of the corn crop this year." 

Tom left Shane more despondent than ever, and he 
spent the remainder of- the day in a very bad mood. 
As the shades of evening crept around him he felt the 
burden of his misfortunes more severely than ever. 
This, in connection with his broken limb, was more than 
he could bear, and caused him to groan aloud. The 
sound reached Edith, who sat in the adjoining room. 
She crept silently into his room and approached his 
bed. 

"Poor papa, are you suffering miUch?" she asked. 

"Oh! 3^es, my girl; it seems like everything is 
goin' to ruin." 

"Why, papa, how you talk," and she knelt down 
by his bedside. "Haven't you a good home, and a 
loving family, and kind neighbors?" 

"Yes, yes, I know; but then there'll be nothin' 
made on the. farm this year." 

"What if there isn't ; we will be just as happy." 

" You don't understand, girl ; you are not old enougli 
to understand these things." 



THE STItIKE AT SHANE'S. 6^ 

"Yes ; but I do understand them, papa. I'm seven- • 
teen, and I know that you have been wearing out your 
life trying to lay by money and buy more land. It 
isn't making us any happier, but instead it is making 
you and all of us unhappy ; and papa you are not so 
kind as you used to be. You don't love us like you 
did when I was a little girl." 

"Not love you, Edie? why, of course I do. It is 
for you I am trying to save up money. What better 
proof do you want of my love ? " 

"Why, I want a little of this kind of love," and she 
drew his arm around her neck and kissed him for the 
first time in years. 

This was a new experience for John Shane. The 
sunlight of such love had not penetrated the dusty 
recesses of his heart for years, and the dust would 
have to be cleared away before its genial warmth could 
reach his soul. 

"You are a good daughter, Edie; but you do not 
understand how necessary it is to have money to get 
along in the world." 

"Oh! yes I do, i^apa ; but I know that money 
alone will not bring happiness. Let us be happy and 
not worry about money." 

"But how can we live without money, child?'* 

"Why, you dear old papa, I know you have money 
enough in the bank to live on for a year if we didn't 
raise any crops at all." 

" And what would you do when that was gone?" 

"Why, then you \^ill be well, and the horses will be 



64 THE 8 f BIKE AT SHAKE'S, 

well, and we will all go to work with willing hands and 
happy hearts. We will be kind and loving to every- 
body and everything, and we won't think so much 
about making money." 

"It sounds good to hear you talk that way, Edie, 
but I'm afraid it won't work. A man must look out 
an' provide for his own family, for if he don't nobody 
will." 

"Yes, but if he allows his love for his family to be 
driven out by the love of money it seems to me he has 
made a bad bargain." 

"Well, good night, daughter; you've cheered me 
up for a while, anyhow. My misfortunes worry me 
most on account of those who are dependent on me. I 
want to put them above want." 

"There now, papa ; no more about that. Let us 
encourage love and kindness toward one another and 
trust in God. Good night, papa," and she gave him 
another kiss and left him. 

John Shane was restless ; as the hours dragged their 
weary length along the loneliness of his situation 
pressed itself c n him . The conversation with Edith had 
aroused the latent energies of his soul, and his heart 
yearned for human sympathy. He had lived a lonely 
life ; his whole soul had been possessed by the one idea 
of making money. He did not think that anyone else 
was suffering while he was following this false light, 
but here was Edith, who had been yearning for her 
father's love and had been denied it. Her face 
haunted him ; her voice was ringing in his ears. Her 



THE STRIKE AT SHANE'S, 65 

words were present iu his memory. Her face and 
voice reminded him of one that he had known long 
ago — one that he had loved in the years gone by. 
Who could it be? Why, Mary his wife, of course, 
whom he had almost forgotten that he ever loved, and 
when he married her she looked like Edith ; why to be 
sure, and he had almost forgotten it. He felt an 
indescribable desire to tell her that he loved her yet, 
and called her to him. When she came and stood 
beside his bed the vision created by a sick man's fancy 
faded ; for it was not Edith's bright and sunny face 
that bent over him, but his wife's, and the twenty 
years that she had toiled by his side had left their 
mark there. The youth and beauty had gone, and her 
hair was streaked with gray. It was Mary Shane that 
stood beside him, and not the vision of Mary Malott 
that Edith's face had recalled ; and he was John Shane 
again with wrinkled face and stooping shoulders. The 
vision had faded and the words of affection that his 
lips should have uttered were left unsaid. 

"Did you want something, John?" 

"Only a little assistance in changing my position," 
he replied. 

That done, she started away. His conscience smote 
him and the vision came back. He recalled her and 
she returned to his bedside. 

"What is it, John?" she inquired. 

"I am lonely to-night," he replied; "can't you sit 
with me a while?'* 

"Why, yes ; all night if you need me." 



66 THE STRIKE AT SHANE'S. 

She sat clown by him, and he told her how he was 
beginning to see that his life was not what it should bo. 
That he had neglected his duty as- a husband and 
father, and had lived too much alone, and that hence- 
forth he wanted to take his family more into his confi- 
dence. He would have told her that he loved her as of 
yore, but it had been so long since he had spoken such 
words ( f affection to her that the words came but 
awkwardly to his lips, and he left them unspoken. 
She replied, with tears in her eyes, that she knew that 
their thoughts had been drifting apart, and she hailed 
with joy the dawn of a brighter day, T^^hen their lives 
would flow in the same channel. 

Soothed by these thoughts he soon fell asleep, and 
his tired and worn out wife retired to rest, hoping that 
the future might not dispel the bright hopes raised that 
night. 




m 



CHAPTER IX. 




HE thoughts of the night vanished with the 
gleams of the rising sun, and the good 
resohitions that John Shane had made in 
his conversation with his wife were soon 
The coming of day always meant more to 
' him, and the habit of being up with the sun to engage 
; in his daily toil was of such a fixed character that it 
angered him to think that he was confined to his bed. 
. Edith's tenderness had led his fancy back twenty years, 
r and he felt again the hopes that had inspired him in 
i former years when Mary Malott became his wife ; but 
[ the light of day brought back the thoughts of his busi- 
: ness, and he was even a little ashamed that he had 
'-.. allowed himself to indulge in such thoughts and words 
as he did the night before. 

The breath of mammon had dissipated the perfume 

of holiness that had penetrated his heart, and he was 

again the man of business, blinded by the glitter of 

gold, unable to see the beauties of a trusting wife and 

^ a loving daughter. 

f Time passed on until two weeks had elapsed since 

f the accident, and the strike was strictly maintained by 

all the animals. Their lot had been a little easier since 



68 THE STRIKE AT SHANE'S. 

Shane had been confined to the house and they had 
only Tom to contend with, for Mike was not a hard- 
hearted fellow, but had only done the bidding of his 
employer. He never abused the dumb animals on the 
farm when he could avoid it. 

"I'll tell ye, Tom," said Mike, one day, "let's thry 
a little different plan wid thim horses, an' see if we 
can't build 'em up a bit." 

"Bother the horses ; they're goin' to destruction like 
everything else on the farm," said Tom. 

" Be aisy, now, 'til I tell ye how we'll do it. Let's 
clane out the stables, an' put clane straw in the stalls 
for beddin'. Thin we'll make a nice warm mash for 
'em to ate, an' thrate 'em like gintlemen, begorra, an' 
see if we can't put some life into 'em." 

"You can try it if you want to, but I shan't fool 
away my time that way," said Tom. 

"By your lave I'll thry that same plan mesilf, thin," 
said Mike. 

Mike was as good as his word, and brought the 
horses up at night, and had bedding of nice clean straw 
for them to sleep on. He curried, brushed and rubbed 
them, until their neglected coats began to shine again. 
He saw that they were properly fed w^th good whole- 
some food, and closed the openings in the stable, that 
the night winds might not blow on them. 

"What's up now, do you suppose?" said Dobbin, 
after Mike had gone away. "This begins to look like 
things were turning our way." 

"I don't like favors coming from the hand of the 



THE 8TRIKE AT SHANE'S. 69 

enemy," said Dick. "Let's go slow until we find out 
if there isn't some trick in it." " 

"Well, no matter what the cause of the change is, 
I'm going to get all the pleasure I can out of my im- 
proved condition for one night, anyhow," said the sor- 
rel horse ; and the gray mare said ; ' ' Them's my senti- 
ments.'* 

Mike followed up his plan by giving them the same 
attention the next day, and the horses began to think 
that a change had come for the better, but Dick main- 
tained that it was because their old enemy Shane was 
laid up. Mike never was a cruel master, and he 
thought Mike was taking advantage of his employer's 
sickness to give them a little better treatment. 

" Well, if Mike is going to be fair with us, let's be 
fair with him," said the sorrel. "I'm kind of tired of 
pla^dng sick, anyhow." 

"I don't object to working for anybody that will 
treat me fair," said Dick; "and if Mike is going to 
treat us right I am willing to work." 

About this time Mike went up to the house to see 
Mr. Shane. 

"Mornin' to ye, Misther Shane ; an' how are ye this 
mornin'?" said Mike. 

"Bad, Mike, still bad," said Shane; "everything 
is goin' to ruin on the place I suppose." 

"Faith now an' they're not. I've been tindin' to 
thim horses mesilf for a few days ; I'm tindin' to 'em 
rigular, and ye ought to see the improvement in 'em. 
Why, they'll all be at work again in a few days." 



70 THE STBIKE AT SHAKE'S, 

*'Well, that's some eucouragement anyhow," said 
Shane. "What are you doing for the horses?" 

"I'm just tratin' 'em like gintlemen. Pm doin' 
unto tliim horses as I would have thim do unto me. I 
ain't much of a scholar, and maybe not so good a 
Christian as I ought to be, but I belave that's a good 
rule to go by. Just trate 'em kindly an' dacently, an' 
that's the whole sacret of it all. Just lave me alone 
wid 'em, an' I'll have 'em at work again in a few 
days." 

Edith came in shortly after Mike took his leave. 

" Good morning, Edie ; I believe I feel a little bet- 
ter this morning," said Shane. * 

"I'm glad to 'hear that," said Edith. "I'll just 
open the window so that you can see out. I'm afraid 
mamma is going to be sick ; she is scarcely able to 
be up." 

"AVhy, what is the matter with her?" inquired 
Shane. He had been so engrossed by his own selfish 
thoughts that he had not noticed that his wife was 
wearing out under the increased duties put upon her 
since his sickness. 

Sure enough Mrs. Shane was tkken sick that day, 
and Towser carried the news to the barnyard. 

"Well now, that's bad," said Dobbin. " Some one 
of us will have to go for a doctor." 

"I'll go," said Dick. 

" I hope they'll take me," said the sorrel. " I am 
tired of staying at home, anyhow." 

Mike was called up to go for a physician. "Time 



THE STRIKE AT SHANE'S, 71 

is money," he said; " an' I'll just take one of these 
horses. I wonther which one of the lazy rogues I'd 
bether take." 

Dick whinnied, as much as to say, "I'll go.'* 

"Ah! ye rogue, would ye thry yer ould thrick an' 
run away wid me ? But ye're the fastest one of the lot, 
an' I'll thry ye anyhow." 

He harnessed Dick, and hitched him to the bugg3\ 
Once in the highway, Dick skimmed over the ground 
like a bird and soon brought the physician to Mrs. 
Shane's bedside. 

" It was just a case of overwork and lack of sleep," 
said the physician. "Too much hard work in the day, 
and sitting up of nights, and all she needed was com- 
plete rest." 

Mr. Tracy came over that day to see Shane. 

" Things are worse than ever, now, neighbor Tracy," 
said Shane, and he related his new misfortune in his 
wife's sickness. "Wh}^, I never thought about her 
overworkin' herself," he said. 

"Well, if you'll allow me to speak plainly to you, 
neighbor Shane, you should have seen that your wife 
was breaking down under the strain of increased duties 
that have been put upon her since your sickness." 

"I admit it," said Shane; "but I had so many 
things to think of that I never thought of it." 

"Why, my dear friend, is there anything more im- 
portant to 3^ou than the health and happiness of your 
family? The happiness of those who are dependent 
upon you should be the uppermost thought in your 



72 THE STRIKE AT SHANE' 8. 

mind. The wife who has confided her life to your 
keeping should be the first in yonv thoughts." 

"I really had not thought about her being over- 
worked," said Shane. 

' ' You have a false idea of the powers of endurance 
of both man and beast. There is a limit to the ph^^si- 
cal endurance of both, which can be and often is 
exceeded. You have the proof of that statement 
before 3'ou. Y(^ur wife is down sick from overwork, 
and your horses are disabled from the same cause." 

"There, I don't agree with you," said Shane. "It's 
just a streak of bad luck I have struck, and I couldn't 
help it." 

"If you would just stop and reason about the mat- 
ter you would see it in a different light. I don't want 
to intrude upon your private affairs, but I feel that it 
is my duty to present some things to you in the light 
that I see them, for I think that you are blinded, and 
do not see things that are to your interest. You have 
sacrificed your own happiness and that of your family 
to get money, and what have you got in return? Why, 
nothing ; while I, who have followed the other rule of 
seeking happiness, have more of this world's wealth 
than you have, and I do not want to say it with any 
thought of boasting." 

"You always was lucky," said Shane. 

"There is no luck about it," said Tracy. "The 
word of God is true, and if a man tries to follow its 
teachings I believe he will be prospered." 

Edith had come in and sat down by Shane's bed- 
side, and taken his hand in hers. 



THE STBIKE AT SHANE'S. 73 

"Papa," she said, "I think Mr. Tracy is right, and 
I wish you would heed his words." 

' ' There is something peculiar about the condition of 
things here on the farm," continued Tracy, " which lam 
unable to understand ; and while I don't think that God 
ever singles out one individual on which to inflict pun- 
ishment, yet it does not seem to me that the situation 
of things here is a matter of chance. Why, if you 
have not noticed it I will call j^our attention to the 
fact that there is not a bird on your farm." 

"Yes, papa; if you will just listen there is not a 
bird's voice to be heard, and they used to sing so 
sweetly," said Edith. "It is so lonely without them, 
and makes me feel like some great misfortune is hang- 
ing over us." 

"I think my attention had been called to their 
absence," said Shane ; "but I thought I was lucky to 
get rid of 'em." 

"Quite the contrary," said Tracy, " it is the most 
unfortunate thing that has occurred to you. Those 
birds that you have been trying to kill all your life, 
and which you have succeeded in driving away, would 
have saved your crop, which has been destroyed by 
worms and insects. Why, there have been hundreds 
of them in my fields all the spring, and see what a fine 
prospect I have for a good cro]). If you would take 
time to study these matters you would see that birds 
are one of the best gifts God has given us. They 
destroy immense numbers of insects that are injurious 
to trees and plants, and I think that all the vegetation 



74 THE STBIKE AT SHANE'S. 

on your farm shows the absence of what would be your 
best friends. Whether you drove them away or 
whether some superior intelligence directed their flight 
I cannot tell, but they are gone, and your farm is suf- 
fering from their absence." 

"That is true, papa. The birds were your friends, 
and you drove them away," said Edith. 

"There may be something in that," said Shane, half 
con-sinced ; "an' I'll think about it." 

"God gave us the beasts and birds for our use and 
benefit. He gave man dominion over them, and he 
has not withdrawn or changed his law ; but he can 
remove them from our presence, as he has removed 
the birds from this farm. He can disable the dumb 
animals so that they cannot work for us, as is the 
case with your horses, although I think the condi- 
tion of your horses is the result of overwork. You 
will have to admit that you have overworked your 
horses this spring. It is a remarkable fact that they 
all became afflicted at the same time, and one that I 
can't understand. You must realize, friend Shane, 
that horses have a physical construction similar to our 
own, and that their strength can be overtaxed the 
same as a man's, and if overwork will break down 
your wife's health, as you now see that it has, why 
will it not do the same to a horse ? " 

' ' I begin to see that I may have been mistaken in 
regard to these matters," said Shane, and Edith gave 
his hand an encouraging clasp. 

"Why, kindness goes a long way with dumb brutes 



THE STBIKE AT SHANE'S. 75 

in helping them to bear up under hard work," con- 
tinued Tracy, '''•and I fear that you haven't given your 
animals the encouragement of kind icords even. Love 
and kindness are the powers that govern the world. 
You may control a horse by force for a while, but if he 
has any spirit it will breakout sometime, and the horse 
by his superior strength will be master, as was the case 
with Dick when he ran away with you. Mike said he 
never saw a horse drive nicer than Dick did when he 
went after the doctor. Why, you wouldn't know your 
own horses, Shane, since Mike has been applying the 
'golden rule' to them, as he says. If they keep on 
improving they will be at work again in a short time." 

"Won't that be nice, papa?" said Edith. 

"I just give you these points to think about, and 
when you get up put them into practice, and see if it 
don't prove more profitable than the old way. I'll get 
the neighbors together and we'll replant that corn and 
see if you can't make a crop yet. I'll send Cora, over 
to help Edie with the work until you can get some one 
else. So good bye, friend Shane, and don't worry 
about your business, for your neighbors will help you 
out." 




CHAPTER X. 




HANE thought seriously about the conver- 
sation he had with Tracy, and came to the 
conchision that perhaps he had been fol- 
lowing a false light —that he had not 
gotten as much happiness out of life as he might. He 
recalled many acts of unkindness towards the wife and 
daughter who loved him, and he resolved to lead a dif- 
ferent life. 

AVhile these thoughts were in his 'mind Edith came 
into the room and sat down beside him. 

*'How is your mother now, Edie?" he said. 

*'I think she is better, papa." 

*'Edie, I've been thinkin' that I haven't done right 
by her. I haven't made her life as happy as I might, 
an' I'm goin' to change things when I get well.'* 

**I'm sure mamma never complains, jDapa, but we 
would all be so much happier if you would give us the 
same love you used to," said Edith, " and give up this 
struggle for money and try to be happy." 

*' That's what I'm goin' to do, Edie." 

*'0h! papa, I'm so glad," and she put her arms 
around his neck. 

''And, Edie, you spend a good deal of time readin' 
])ooks ; what do you think of Tracy's ideas in regard to 
animals ? " 

76 



THE STBIKE AT SHADE'S. 77 

"They are true, papa, they are true," she said. 
"God gave us the bh'ds aud ammals, and I think 
it is a sin for us to abuse them. He will certainly hold 
us to account for our treatment of his creatures." Her 
bowed head bent over his face, and a tear-drop from 
her eye fell on his cheek. "And oh! papa, if you 
would be loving and kind, not only to mamma and 
Tom and me, but to all the living creatures that God has 
given us, I would love you so much, and we would be 
so much happier." 

"There, now, daughter, don't cry. I beheve you 
are right about it, an' I'm goin' to change things an' 
try a new way. It may come a little awkAvard at first, 
but I think I can get used to it." 

"Oh! papa, I'm so glad. I'll go and tell mamma, 
and it will help her to get well," said Edith. 

"Just send Tom in ; I want to talk to him awhile," 
said Shane. 

Tom sauntered into his father's room wondering what 
was up, for he had seen by Edith's face that some- 
thing important had happened. 

"Tom," said Shane, after a pause of a few seconds, 
"I've come to the conclusion that we haven't been 
runnin' the farm on the right principle. I know you've 
been follerin' in my footsteps an' doin' things as I do 
'em, which is quite natural for a boy to do ; but I guess 
Ave've been mistaken in a few things, an' we'll just take 
a square turn an' make a new start in another direction. 
There's somethin' wrong on the farm, an' if it's a judg- 
ment sent on us for some of our shortcomings, why, 



78 THE STRIKE AT SHANE'S, 

let's try an' git iu the right path agiu. We'll try kind- 
ness toward our dumb animals, an' the birds, an' each 
other, an' see if that ain't a better rule to live by.** 

"I'm agreed to that," said Tom, much to his father's 
surprise, "for I've been thinking some that way my- 
self, since Mike has been takin' care of the horses an' 
applyin' the 'golden rule' to 'em, as he says. It has 
helped 'em more than all of Hodge's doctorin'." 

"Well, we'll try the rule of kindness from now on," 
said Shane, and so the matter was settled. 

Towser, who had been lying under the window, got 
up and capered about the yard for pure joy, and the 
next morning, before daybreak, he was out in the 
barnyard and had related the whole story of Shane's 
new resolutions, which created quite a sensation among 
the animals. 

"I think we have reason to believe that it is all true, 
for we have had much better treatment in the past 
week than ever before in our li\i>s," said Dobbin. 

"I feel quite well this morning, and if 1 had a good 
feed I think I could pull a plow," said the sorrel. 

"Under the circumstances I'm ready to go to work 
again," said the gray mare. 

"I wish I could lay two eggs to-day," cackled the 
hen, and as an evidence of her good intentions she 
made a new nest on the barn floor, where Edith could 
not help but find it. 

Dobbin called another convention of all the birds 
and animals for the purpose of declaring the strike 
ended, and Towser volunteered to carry the news all 



THE STBIKE AT SHANE'S, 79 

around ; and at noon, when they met at the oak tree, 
there was not one absent. Towser related what he had 
heard under the window, and they all accepted the 
matter as a settled fact. 

Dobbin declared the strike ended, and requested 
them all to go to work in good earnest to help Shane 
out of his troubles. The horses all agreed to go to 
work the next day. The cow said she would astonish 
everybody by the amount of milk she would give. 

Towser told them that farmer Tracy had promised 
that the neighbors would come and replant the corn the 
next day. 

"Then I will have a few hundreds of my friends 
here to kill all the worms in the field if they will let 
us," said the blackbird, and all the other birds volun- 
teered their assistance and promised that the farm 
should be immediately inhabited by an army of birds. 

The meeting adjourned sine die, and then there was 
great rejoicing over the success of the strike. 

"Why, there's a robin in the cedar tree,** said 
Pxlith, in surprise that afternoon. "It seems like a 
promise of better times to hear its welcome voice. 
Why, mamma, just listen, there is a host of them 
coming." 

The trees were soon filled with birds of all kinds, 
which chirped and sang with all their power. 

"Papa, just listen to the birds," said Edith, entering 
her father's room. "Isn't it delightful to have them 
back again?" 

"It does seem more pleasant to have 'em here," said 



80 TBE STRIKE AT SHAKE'S. 

Shane; *' but it's the strangest thing lever heard of 
that they'd all come back at once." 

''''Perhaps God sent them back on account of your 
good resolutions to he kind to all his creatures " said 
Edith, and she knelt down by his bedside and put her 
arms around his neck. ' ' Promise me here in His name, 
papa, that you will keep that resolution.** 

''I do," he answered. 

*' Well, I never seen the like," shouted Tom, as he 
came bolting into the house. "Them horses are just 
prancin' an' runnin' all over the pasture, just like they 
never had anything the matter with 'em. Seems like 
Mike's treatment was purty good to cure 'em up so 
soon. I think old Hodges had better take a few les- 
sons from him." 

" Tes, and don't forget to take a few lessons your- 
self, Tom, for you may have to practice in that line. 
Listen to the birds, too," said Edith. 

"By gracious I hadn't noticed *em. It begins to 
look like the old place was coming back to itself, don't 
it ? " and he caught her around the waist and whirled 
her away in a fantastic dance, until she broke loose 
from him to go to her mother's room with the good 
news. 

In the morning, as Tom went out to the barn he 
saw three or four cats running about the barn, and 
picked up a stone to throw at them. *■ 

" 5e aisy there ^ noic" said Mike; ^ ifs agin the 
rules to do that noio,'* 

"Right you are," said Tom ; " but I can't get used 
to it. What arc they doing here, anyhow?" 



THE STB IKE AT SHAKE'S. 81 

*'Begorra, they're killin' all the rats in the barn, an' 
the divil a rat can get away from all thim cats." 

"Good luck to 'em, then, for the rats were about to 
take us," said Tom. "How were the horses?" 

"Now, look ye, Tom; do ye mind how lame thim 
horses was?" 

"Yes." 

"Well, the di^^l a stiff leg is there among 'em at all, 
except Dobbin." 

"How do you account for it?" asked Tom. 

" Ifs the tratement I give 'em. Tve got a resati 
for it^ an* it's good for man an* baste, an' ivery other 
living crayture. Ye' 11 find it in the Good Book, an' its 
like this : ' Do thou unto others as thou loouldst have 
them do unto thee^' an' that's a good resate, hegorra" 

"Why, Mike, you're getting poetical." 

" Sure an' I'm feelin' poetical, an' if me voice wasn't 
out of tune I'd sing ye a bit of a song." 

"Never mind your voice ; give us the song." 

' ' Thin here goes wid a song I composed mesilf to 
suit the occasion : — 

I'm Michael McCarty, 

So hale and so hearty — 

I work ivery day in the year ; 

The horses all know me, 

The cattle all show me 

They know they have nothing to fear. 

Stan' up for the brutes, 
An' the birds, if it suits 
An' the chickens an' turkeys alone, 



82 THE STBIKE AT SHAXE'S. 

For God made 'em all, 

'An they came at his call, 

An' he gave 'em to man for his own. 

We shouldn't abuse 'em. 
Nor cruelly use 'era ; 
Begorra, I know I am right, 

An' before ye shall do it, 

I'll have ye to know it, 

'Tis Michael M'Carty ye'll fight.'' 

** Bravo! Mike," shouted Edith, who had entered 
the barn unperceived just as Mike commenced his 
song. 

"Faith, I didn't know I had such an ilegant audi- 
ence, or sure I'd have been blushin' all the time." 

" Quite unnecessary, I am sure," said Edith ; "your 
audience appreciates j^our song, and will encore you on 
the slightest provocation." 

"Thin I could only bow me thanks, for sure 'tis the 
only song I know," said Mike; "an' 'tis that swate 
voice of yours we would like to hear, if ye'll be so 
kind as to sing us a song." 

"Oh ! excuse me, please," said Edith. 

"Oh! come, now," said Tom, " you slipped into our 
entertainment an' you can't get off so easy. Give us 
a song or I'll lock you in the barn." 

"An' I'll let ye out," said Mike, "but sing us a 
song, because ye're a nice, swate little girl an' want 
to plaze yer f rinds." 



THE STBIKE AT SHANE'S. 83 

"AVell, if T must, I will," said Edith, and she sang 
the foUomng lines to the tune of "Auld Lang Syne" : 

This earth was ouce inhabited 

By birds and beasts alone, 
AVho held dominion over it, 

And ruled it as their own 

'Till God created man and made 

Him ruler over all ; 
And then the birds and beasts at once 

Fell prostrate at his call. 

Restrain the hand in anger raised 

To treat them cruelly ; 
He gave them as a precious gift 

In trust to you and me. 

He gave them for our benefit. 

And not to be abused. 
And he who violates that trust 

Stands before God accused. 

Then do to them as thou wouldst wish 

That they should do to thee. 
And do not violate the trust 

God placed in you and me. 

** Thank ye. Miss Edith, thank ye; it's a beautiful 
song, it is. I'm not much at the singin' like ye are ; 
but I can be doin' them things ye sung about, an* I'll 
not be forgettin' 'em soon." 

''Now, come on, bye, an' let's be gettin' ready for 
the work. The neighbors mil all be comin' in purty 
soon to replant the corn, an' won't they be surprised 
to see us wid a good team goiu' out into the field to 
work ? Begorra they will.** 



CHAPTER XI. 




OHN Shane's neighbors came promptly to 
his assistance, as they always do in farming- 
communities. They came with their teams 
and tools, prepared to put in the corn, and 
the work of plowing up the ground and replanting the 
corn went merrily on. The birds came and did their 
share of the work. They followed the plows all day 
long and caughf every worm that came to view. The 
men plowed the ground and harrowed it and stirred it 
all they could, so that the birds might get the worms. 
Shane's horses went to the work with a will, and did as 
much as any team on the farm. It was a glorious day, 
and a jollier crowd of men never got together than 
these same farmers. They felt happy because they 
were doing a generous deed, and they worked with a 
will until noon. The dinner bell rang and they went 
to the house to meet a fresh surprise. Every man's 
wife and daughter was there, and they had spread a 
long table under the trees, and put on it a feast that 
would tempt the appetite of an epicure. 

They had gotten Mr. Shane in a chair and placed 
him at the window where he could see it all ; and 
Mrs. Shane sat by his side, husband and wife, happier 



THE STRIKE AT SHANE'S. 8$ 

than they had been in many years. What a great 
feast that was there under the trees. What appetites 
the men had, and how eager the women were to satisfy 
them. They laughed and joked and ate, and there 
never was such a jolly time as they had on the Shane 
farm. 

They worked all day and came back the next day, 
and worked until every hill of corn was planted again. 
The next day the rain fell and moistened the ground, 
and the sun came out and warmed it, and the corn 
sprouted and grew, and there was a great prospect for 
the future. 'Tis true the worms took some of it, but 
they had put an extra grain in each hill for the worms. 
The birds could not get all the worms, but they got 
most of them. The Shane farm was getting in accord 
with the plan of the universe, and prosperity was smil- 
ing on it. 

Shane felt that he was in the right path now, and he 
studiously followed it. During the time he was con- 
fined to the house with his broken limb Edith had 
induced him to read the books loaned her by Cora 
Tracy, which treat of animals and birds and their 
uses. 

In a few more weeks Shane recovered so much that 
he could walk about the farm on crutches. He could 
not help but mark the difference in the appearance of 
things. There was a look of content about every- 
thing. 

The first time he went to the barn Dick came up to 
him, and putting out his nose touched Shane's hand. 



86 THE STRIKE AT SHANE'S. 

* ' I actually believe the horse is trying to ask my 
pardon," said Shane. "It would be more proper for 
me to ask his pardon for mistreating him so long." 

He patted Dick's neck and said, "I think we under- 
stand each other now, old fellow." 

"I tell ye, Misther Shane, I never see horses work 
nicer than these same horses of yours," said Mike. 
"I think we'll have Dobbin prancin' around again 
purty soon." 

"Poor old Dobbin. I'm afraid he'll not get much 
more enjoyment out of life, but he shall have an easy 
time of it as long as he lives." 

But ere another year had gone by old Dobbin found 
a resting place beneath the sod, and the question was 
again asked, " Who knowefi that the sjnrlt of man 
goeth upivard and the spirit of the beast goeth down- 
ward .^ " God created him and made him subject to the 
will of man, and in the end God took him. The part 
that was mortal went back to the earth. If there was 
any immortal element in him God took it and knows 
what to do with it. 

The work went on merrily on the Shane farm, and 
everything prospered. The birds did their duty nobly, 
and the crops were looking splendidly. Shane com- 
pletely recovered from his broken limb, and people 
remarked that Shane didn't seem like the same man he 
used to be. He had learned that the birds were his 
friends ; he had watched them in their work during the 
summer, and noticed how diligent they were in 
searching for insects. They took a few cherries and 
berries, it is true, but when he came to estimate the 



THE 8TBIKE AT SHANE'S, 87 

value of the fruit taken he saw that its vahie was 
greatly overbalanced by the benefits he received. 

He had been accustomed to employing men to work 
for him, and he estimated the wages he would have to 
pay these men in comparison with the profits he could 
make out of their labor. If the balance was on his 
side of 'the account he employed them, and if not he 
didn't. He estimated the same way in regard to the 
birds. 

The corn crop destroyed by the worms in the spring 
was worth more than all the fruit on his farm, and the 
second crop planted, which he believed now was saved 
by the birds, was worth all the fruit he would raise in 
several years. So he reasoned the matter with Edith. 

"But, papa," she said, "isn't there something 
grander and nobler in this question than the mere 
money side of it?" 

"Oh! yes, Edie ; I see that side of the question, 
too. / recognize now that they are God's creatures, 
sent for our benefit, and that as he has given them to us 
he can take them away.'* 

* ' And isn't there something more than that ? " asked 
Edith. 

' ' Yes ; I appreciate their sweet songs now as I never 
did before. There are a great many beauties in nature 
that I never saw before. I begin to appreciate the 
gentleness and docility of our domestic animals. I 
don't blame Dick for running away with me ; he only 
retaliated for the ill-usage I had given him. I do not 
intend that any dumb animal shall ever be mistreated 
on this farm again.'* 



88 TtiE STBIKE AT SHAJ^JS'iS. 

"Faith an' I don't think there's iuy body on the 
farm now that wants to mistrate 'em, Misther Shane,'* 
said Mike, who had come in with Tom. 

"I can trust you, Mike, for you always was opposed 
to mistreating the animals, but I didn't know but what 
Tom might have some of the old ideas yet," said 
Shane. 

" Niver ye fear for that bye, Misther Shane. Be- 
gorra, he's a bigger crank than Misther Tracy himsilf , 
an' I think it's a young leedy of that name that's having 
a dale of influence wid 'im on tliim points^ eh 9 " and he 
gave Tom a vigorous poke in the ribs. 

"Oh ! shut up," said Tom, " that rattle-clap tongue 
of yours is always clattering about something." 

"All right, me bye, 'tis Michael McCarty knows a 
thing or two, an' he has the tongue to tell yQ of it wid. 
Arrah, I've been kapin' me two eyes open mesilf, 
this summer, an' I've changed the song I sung ye in 
the spring like this : — 

Tom Shane's a bye of some good sinse — 

He's goin' to use it all, 
An' from the looks of things just now, 

Bedad he'll marry this fall, 

Bedad he'll marry this fall, 
An' from the looks of things just now, 

Bedad he'll marry this fall. 

That is, ye know, if he can get his feyther's consint." 
The laugh was at Tom's expense, and they retired 

in good humor. 

"Mike's surmise was correct, for Tom Shane and 



THE STBIKE AT SH AXE'S. 89 

Cora Tracy were married the next winter, and it was 
her influence which had worked a cliange in Tom's 
thoughts and actions towards the lower animals. 

The summer wore away and the winter was coming 
on. Shane's corn crop was in the crib, and had yielded 
far beyond his expectations, and his horses were sleek 
and fat and happy. He had brought the carpenters 
up from the village to repair the stables so that no cold 
blasts of winter winds would blow on his horses. He 
had bought blankets for his horses — something he had 
never done before. 

The cold weather came on apace, and about the mid- 
dle of November there came a snowstorm. The piti- 
less blasts of wind drove the snow in blinding sheets 
across the fields, and made the warm fireside in the 
Shane household seem doubly dear to all who love a 
home. 

Edith was standing at the window watching the 
gusts of wind drive the snow about. 

" Oh ! say, papa, there is some animal down at the 
gate," said Edith. "Are any of ours out?" 

"I think not," he said, coming to the window. 
* ' Ah I it is that old mule that has been living in the 
highway all summer." 

" Whom does it belong to, papa?" 

"I don't know ; it is a stray. It looks hke a shame 
to let the old fellow stand out there and starve," said 
Shane. 

"Let's take him in until the storm is over, anyhow," 
said Edith. 



90 THE STlilKE AT SHANE'S. 

" Well, it shall be done," said Shane. "Tom, you 
an' Mike go an' put that old mule in the back stall an' 
give him something to eat." 

The mule, much to his astonishment, was driven into 
the stable and put in a warm stall. Corn and hay 
were put in for him to eat, and he proceeded to fill his 
empty stomach without any thought of saying grace. 

' ' How is this ? " he cried to Dobbin ; ' ' there's been 
some changes since I was here before." 

"Well, I should say so," said Dobbin. " We have 
everything heart could wish for now." 

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," said the mule, "and 
if I can get a job here I'm going to stay." 

"I hope you^ will," said Dobbin, " for we all feel 
kindly towards you for instructing us how to carry on 
the strike." 

"Well, there's one mule thoroughly surprised," said 
Tom, after they had returned to the house. "1 never 
saw an animal look so surprised as he did when we put 
him in the stable ; an' the way he shook the snow off 
his old faded hide and went for that corn was a sight 
to see." 

"Well, it won't cost much to keep him, an' I guess 
we'U just let him stay this winter," and the mule got 
his job. 

" That's right, Misther Shane ^ an' the good God xmll 
give ye cridit for it in the nixt world," said Mike. 

' ' A nd all God-fearing people will give you credit for 
it in tMs world," said Mrs. Shane, 



THE STBIKE AT SH AXE'S. 



01 



"The satisfaction of a good easy conscience is all 
the rcAvard I want," said Shane. 

Prosperity smiles on John Shane's farm, and no con- 
sideration would induce him to return to the old way 
of li\ing. May the time soon come ivlieii all memoill 
recognize the fact that the laws of God and himianity 
require us to be merciful to the dumb animaJs, and to 
grant the same justice and mercy to them ive loould ask 
for ourselves. 




W' 



*'WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY HUMANE 
EDUCATION, MR. ANGELL?" 

I answer. 

(i.) That which tells the ill effects on htimaii being!', of the ill treat- 
ment of dumb animals — how it poisons meats and milk — how even fish, 
killed mercifully as soon as they are caught, are better and more whole 
some food than those that stcffer h&ioxe. they die — how important bisect 
eating birds are to agriculture — how important that they and their nests 
be protected. 

(2.) That which teaches how atiimals should be cared foi as to tight 

check reins, blinders, docking, proper food, rest, protection from the 
weather, exercise, kind words, and a merciful death. 

(3.) But infinitely more important, that which 
tends to prevent all cruelty y both to our own a?id the lower 
races, 

(4.) Through over sixty years of my own life I can remember the 
songs and stories of my boyhood. They have influenced mv rvhole life. 

(5.) While all the other ■A7nerica7i Colonies rvere at war with the 
Indians, the Colony founded by William Penn rested t7i perfect peace. 

(6.) In 1S78 I called upon President Hayes, at Washington, to ask him 
to put in his annual message to Congress something in regard to the 
cruel transportation of animals. He said : " Wheti I was at school I once 
heard a sermon in regard to animals, zvhich I have never f org otte7i " / and 
he put into his 7nessage to Co7igfess al77iost verbatim what I wrote. 

(7.) In 1S75 I addressed the Faculty and students of Dartmouth Col- 
lege, 07t the relation of a7iimals that can speak to those that are diiittb. 

In 1885, ten years later, at the close of an address to the Faculty and 
students of a university in New Orleans, a gentleman rose in the audi- 
ence and said: '^ Some tenyears ago I was a stude7it in Dartmouth Col- 
lege, whe7t Mr. A7ig ell gave a7i address there 07i this subject. I had 7iever 
thought of it before. Whe7i I left college no 07ie thought was more 
strons^ly impressed 07i my mind tha7i that of 7ny duty to the lower ani- 
mals." He was the superintendent of the public schools of Minneapolis. 

(8.) In iS7oand'7i I spent about six months, and about six hundred 
dollars, founding, at Chicago, the Illinois Hiuna7ie Society. Although 
every daily paper in the city helped me, and printed columns I wrote, I 
should have failed to raise the necessary funds but for 07ie mati vjIw had 
been taught, whe7i a little boy in New Hampshire. kind7iess to animals. In 
the great stock yards of Chicago alone 7niirions of du7nb animals are now 
properly fed aiid watered, a7id largely protected from cruelty every year, 
because that little boy was taught kindness to ani7nals. 

Fathers may be cruel, mothers may be cruel, brothers and sisters may 
be cruel. It may be impossible in many instances to teach kindness 
through the7n. But even in the homes of crime, hearts may be made more 
tender by kind acts and words for the dumb creatures that always retur7i 
love for love, Geo. T. Angell. 



What is Overloading a Horse, and How 

Proved ? 

By GEORGE T. ANGELL, 

President of Uie A merican Humane Education Society, the Massachusetts 

Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, and the Pare fit 

American Band of Mercy, 19. Milk Street, Boston. 

The following, taken from " Bishop on Statutory Crimes,^'' edi- 
tion of 1873, P^ge 689, is believed to be sound law, the -world 
overy on the above subject. 

It was written by Mr. Angell in reviewing a decision of a 
Massachusetts Court in 1868 that there was no cruelty because 
other horses of the same weight were able to draw the load in 
question. // was the first and last decision of the kind ever ren- 
dered in Massachusetts. 

"Must an animal be worked until he breaks a blood vessel or 
drops dead, before the law takes cognizance .? Is the horse to 
be strained, or worked to the extreme limit of his strength, be- 
fore such straining or working becomes a cruelty (that is, before 
the act of his master becomes 'overloading').'' Can an ex- 
pert, or any number of experts, say what is the limit of strength 
or endurance of any horse, simply by knowing his weight,'* It 
seems to me that these questions can be easily answered. 
Horses, like men, are of different ages, constitutions, tempera- 
ments, formation, and degrees of strength. One horse, just like 
one man, may be twice as fast, twice as tough, twice as strong, 
as another of precisely the same weight ; and, inasmuch as horses, 
like men, are liable to a great variety of sicknesses, and suffer, 
just like men, from previous overworking and from heat, want 
of proper rest, food, water, shelter, and care, it follows that the 
same horse, like the same man, may be able to perform without 
injury more labor in one day than another. 

" Can a thousand experts prove that all men of a given weight 
or size are equally competent, on every day of the year, to per- 
form a given labor ? Can their testimony establish how much 
load a man of given weight should carry, and how far he should 
carry it on a given day, without regard to whether the man is old 
or young, sick or well, strong or weak, tough or tender, already 
tired or rested, full-fed or starved, or the day hot or cold } And 
does not precisely the same reason apply to the horse, — that 
what one horse can do one day has no force in showing what an- 
other ought to do 071 another day, unless you show the weather, 
age, strength, toughness, and bodily condition of the two to 
be precisely similar.'' I say, then, that it is just as impossible 
for any number of experts, knowing only the weight or size of a 
horse and nothing of his age, health, strength, toughness, and 
"bodily condition, to establish what is, or is not, overloading 



Overloading a Horse (concluded^. 

him, as it would be, knowing only the size or weight of a man, 
and nothing of his age, health, strength, toughness, or bodily 
condition, to establish what is or is not an overload for him. 

" How, then, are we to determine when a horse is overloaded? 
Just exactly and precisely as we determine when a man is over- 
loaded. First, -we are to take his own evidence. If a man stops 
and says, ' I am overloaded, I am working too hard, I feel that 
the task put upon me is too heavy,' that is evidence. So when 
the horse, ordinarily kind and willing to pull, comes with a 
heavy load to a rise of land and, after one or two efforts, stops 
and says, as plainly as words can speak it, ' I am overloaded, I 
am working too hard, I feel that the task put upon me '. too 
heavy,' that is evidence; and there is no court or jury, oi man 
with the heart of a man, who will not recognize it as such. Be- 
sides, the signs of overwork are just as visible in the hor \ as 
the man. No magistrate or juror would have any difficui y in 
deciding in his own mind whether a case to which his attention 
might be attracted in our public streets was or was not a case of 
cruelty. 

"Is not, then, the testimony of competent, intelligent, and 
credible bystanders, who see how the horse looks and acts, and 
his bodily condition, health, and capability to perform the labor 
required, the best evidence that can possibly be obtained? 
Where can you get better? And when disinterested and intel- 
ligent witnesses, who are present and see and hear all that is 
said and done in a given case, voluntarily leave their ordinary 
avocations and come into court to testify that they are fully sat- 
isfied that the case is a clear case of cruelty, can such evidence 
be overbalanced by that of any number of experts who are not 
present, see nothing that occurs, know nothing of the age, 
health, strength, or bodily condition of the horse at the time, 
and who base their calculations simply upon the avoirdupois 
weight of the animal ? It is perfectly evident, then, I say, that the 
highest and best evidence which any court or jury can ask or pos- 
sibly obtain in a case of overloading, overworking, or overdriv- 
ing, is the evidence of the horse himself, as interpreted by those 
present when the cruelty is inflicted. 

" Cruelty begins very far short of taking the extreme strength 
of the animal. God has given to men and animals an excess of 
strength, to be husbanded carefully and used occasionally. But 
to task that strength to its full limit unnecessarily is against na- 
ture, breaks down the man or the animal before his or its time, 
and is a cruelty against which men, having speech and reason, 
may protect themselves, but against which animals, having neither 
speech nor reason like men., t?iust look to them for protections"^ 



Extract from Address of Mr. Angell to the 
Annual Meeting of "The American Social 
Science Association," in New York City, 
May 21, 1874. 

EASY TO INTEREST CHILDREN. 

" It is very easy to enlist the sympathies of children in the 
animal world. Take, for instance, the history and habits 
of birds : show how wonderfully they are created ; how kind 
to their young; how useful to agriculture; what power 
they have in flight. The swallow that flies sixty miles an 
hour, or the frigate bird which, in the words of Audubon, 
* flies with the velocity of a meteor,' and, according to Mi- 
chelet, can float at an elevation of ten thousand feet, and 
cross the tropical Atlantic Ocean in a single night ; or those 
birds of beauty and of song, the oriole, the linnet, the lark, 
and, sweetest of all, the nightingale, whose voice caused 
one of old to exclaim, 'Lord, what music hast thou pro- 
vided for saints in heaven, when thou hast afforded such 
music for men on earth ? ' 

'• Or, take that wonderful beast of the desert, the camel, 
which, nourished by its own humps of fat, and carrying its 
own reservoirs of water, pursues it toilsome way across 
pathless deserts for the comfort and convenience of man. 

^^ Is it not easy to carry up the minds and hearts of chil- 
dren by thoughts like, these from the creature to the infi- 
nitely wise, good, and powerful Creator ? 

" I believe there is a great defect in our systems of edu- 
cation. I believe that in our public schools it is quite as 
possible to develop the heart as the intellect, and that when 
this is required and done, we shall not only have higher 
protection for dumb creatures, and so increased length of 
human life, but also human life better developed and better 
worth living. I believe that the future student of Ameri- 
can history will v/onder, that in the public schools of a free 
government whose very existence depended upon public 
integrity and morals, so much attention should have beeyt 
paid to the cultivation of the intellect, and so little to the 
cultivation of the heart J^ 



Extract from Address of Mr. Angell before 
the " International Congress of Educators," 
at New Orleans, Louisiana, Feb. 26, 1 885. 

"The wonderful growth of societies for the prevention 
of cruelty to animals is a subject with which probably some 
of you are familiar ; how they have stretched out their pro- 
tecting arms, not only in this country, but in Europe, Asia, 
Africa, and many islands of various oceans, numbering 
among their members many of the noblest, best, and most 
illustrious of the world's citizens. In England the Royal 
Society is under the patronage of the Queen, and its Presi- 
dent a member of the Queen's Privy Council. 

" The first audience I had the pleasure of addressing 
there some years ago was presided over by one of the 
most learned men in England, the Lord Bishop of Glouces- 
ter and Bristol, and the gentleman who moved the vote of 
thanks was Field Marshal Sir John Burgoyne, very near 
the head of the British army; the second was at the house 
of the Baroness Burdett-Coutts — probably, next to the 
Queen, the most highly respected woman in England. 

" In France, Germany, and elsewhere, wherever I have 
traveled in Europe, I have found the same. One German 
society numbers among its members twenty-three generals 
and over two hundred officers of the German army. 

"In my own State of Massachusetts, I think that no 
charitable society of the State has on its roll of officers and 
members more distinguished and influential names than 
Ae Massachusetts Society for the Prevention of Cnte/fy 
to Animals. I think that no society in the State is better 
known, or more popular. 

" But, in the limited period allotted me, one thing I do 
have time to tell you; and that is, that we long ago found 
that the great remedy for all these wrongs lies, not in laws 
and prosecuting officers, but ^ in the public and private - 
schools ; that a thousand cases of cruelty can be prevented 
by kind words and humane educ^jtioJi, for every one that 
can be prevented by prosecution.^^ 



Extract from Mr. Angell's Address to the 
Annual Meeting of "The National Associ- 
ation of Superintendents of Public Schools," 
at Washington, D. C, Feb. 14, 1884. 

"Nearly all the criminals of the future, the thieves, 
burglars, incendiaries, and murderers, are now in our 
public schools, and with them the greater criminals who 
commit national crimes. They are in our public schools 
now, and we are educating them. We can mould them 
now if we will. To illustrate the power of education: We 
know that we can make the same boy Protestant, Roman 
Catholic, or Mohammedan. It is simply a question of 
education. We may put into his little hands, as first 
toys, whips, guns, and swords, or may teach him, as the 
Quakers do, that war and cruelty are crimes. We may 
teach him to shoot the little song-bird in springtime, with 
its nest full of young, or we may teach him to feed the 
bird and spare its nest. We may go into the schools now 
with book, picture, song, and story, and make neglected 
boys merciful, or we may let them drift, until, as men, 
they become sufficiently lawless and cruel to throw our 
railway trains off the track, place dynamite under our 
dwelling houses or public buildings, assassinate our Pres- 
ident, burn half our city, or involve the nation in civil war. 

" Is it not largely., if not wholly., a question of education ? 

" I am sometimes asked, ' Why do you spend so much 
of your time and money in talking about kindness to ani- 
mals, when there is so much cruelty to men > And I 
answer, */ am working at the roots.'' Every humane pub- 
lication, every lecture, every step, in doing or teaching 
kindness to them, is a step to prevent crime — a step in 
promoting the growth of those qualities of heart which 
will elevate human souls, even in the dens of sin ana 
shame, and prepare the way for the coming of peace on 
earth and good will to men. 



Mr. AngeWs Address {concluded^. 

"There are hundreds of thousands of parents among 
the depraved and criminal classes of this country whom 
no child can be taught to love, or ought to be. There 
are hundreds of thousands of homes where the name of 
the Almighty is never heard, except in words of blas- 
phemy. But there is not a child in one of those homes 
that may not be taught in our public schools to feed the 
birds and pat the horses, and enjoy making happy all 
harmless creatures it meets on the street, and so be doing 
acts of kindness forty times a day, which will make it not 
only happier, but better, and more merciful in all the rela- 
tions of life. 

" Standing before you as the advocate of the lower races, 
I declare what I believe cannot be gainsaid — that just so 
soon and so far as we pour into all our schools the songs, 
poems, and literature of mercy towards these lower crea- 
tures, just so soofi and so far shall we reach the roots ?iot 
only of cruelty but of crime. ^^ 

Mr. Richards introduced the following, which was 
adopted : — 

^^ Resolved, That we heartily approve of the ^American 
Bands of Mercy^ and welcome their introduction into the 
public schools of our country to aid in the moral education 
of our people.^'' 



In the winter of 1885-6, by tmanimous vote of the Boston 
School Committee, Mr. Angell addressed the sixty-one 
large Normal, Latin, High, and Grammar Schools of Bos- 
ton one hour each. In March, 1887, by unanim,07is vote 
of the School Co}?i7nittee, he caused about sixty thousand 
copies of the Massachusetts Society's humane publica- 
tions to be distributed to the pupils of the Boston Public 
Schools. 




Founders of American Band of Mercy. 

GEORGE T. ANGELL and Rev. THOMAS TIMMINS. 

Ofl&cers of Parent American Band of Mercy. 

George T. Angell, President; 

Joseph L. Stevens, Secretary. 

Over eighteen thousand branches of the Parent American Band of 

Mercy have been formed, with probably over a million 

members. They are in every State and 

every Territory except Alaska. 

PLEDGE. 
"I will try to be kind to all harmless living: Creatures, 
and try to protect them from eruel usage." 

Any Band of Mercy member who wishes can cross out the word harmless. 
from his or her pledge. M. S. P. C. A. on our badges mean " Merciful Soci- 
ety Prevention of Cruelty to Ally 

We send without cost, to every person asking, a copy of " Band 
of Mercy " information and other publications. 

Also, without cost, to every person who writes that he or she 
has formed a '■^ Band of Mercy'''' by obtaining the signatures of 
thirty adults or children or both — either signed, or authorized 
to be signed-^ to the pledge, also the name chosen for the '■'■ Band,^^ 
and the name and post-office address [towTi and state] of the Pres- 
ident : 

I. Our monthly paper, "Our Dumb Animals," full of inter- 
esting stories and pictures, ybr one yecir^ 



American Band of Mercy {concluded'). 

2 . Copy of Band of Mercy Songs. 

3. Twelve Lessons on Kindness to Animals^ containing many 
anecdotes. 

4. Eight Humane Leaflets, containing pictures and one hun- 
dred selected stories and poems. 

5. For the President, an imitation gold badge. 

The head officers of Juvenile Temperance Associations and 
teachers and Sunday-school teachers should be Presidents of 
15ands of Mercy. 

Nothing is required to be a member, but to sign the pledge or 
authorize it to be signed. 

Any intelligent boy or girl fourteen years old can form a 
Band with no cost, and receive what we offer, as before stated. 

To those who wish badges, song and hymn books, cards of 
membership, and a membership book for each band, the prices 
are, for badges, gold or silver imitation, eight cents; ribbon, 
four cents ; song and hymn books, with fifty-two songs and 
hymns, two cents ; cards of membership, two cents ; and mem- 
bership book, eight cents. The " Twelve Lessons on Kindness 
to Animals" cost only two cents for the whole, bound together 
in one pamphlet. The Humane Leaflets cost twenty-five cents 
a hundred, or eight for five cents. 

A Good Order of Exercises for Band of Mercy Meetings. 

1. Sing Band of Mercy song or Hymn, and repeat the Pledge together. 
[See Melodies.] . 

2. Remarks by President, and reading of Report of last Meetmg by Secre- 
tary. 

3. Readings, Recitations, "Memory Gems," and Anecdotes of good and 
noble sayings, and deeds done to both human and dumb creatures, with vocal 
and instrumental music. 

4. Sing Band of Mercy song or hymn. 

5. A brief address. Members may then tell what they have done to make 
human and dumb creatures happier and better. 

6. Enrollment of new members. 

7. Sing Band of Mercy song or hymn. 

Everybody, old or young, who wants to do a kind act, to make the 
world happier or better, is invited to address, by letter or postali 

GEORGE T. ANGELL, 

President of the A merican Humane Education Society, the Massachusetts 
Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to A nimals, and the Parent 
American Band of Mercy, 19 Milk Street, Boston. 



OUR DUMB ANIMALS. 

Monthly Organ of the American Hiwiane Education 

Society and the Massachusetts Society for the 

Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. 

What the Press say about it. A Few from Hundreds of Recent Kotioes. 

1. All who sympathize with kindness will be delighted with a copy of 
Giir Dumb Animals. No more entertaining or more useful reading can 
be put into the hands of children. The pictures are as good as the 
text. — Nezv 2'ork Tribune. 

2. Always a welcome guest to our editorial table. — Bangor Daily 
Commercial. 

3. Attractive sheet — should be in every household. — Atiffusta Age, 

4. Illustrated and attractive monthly. — Springfield Republican. 

5. Admirable publication. — Burlington Ha-vkeye. 

6. A beautiful paper. — Southern Cultivator (Atlanta, Ga.). 

7. Its attractive pictures catch the eye, and its short pathetic stories 
toucli the hearts of readers, young and old. — Zion's Herald (Boston), 

8. Excellent monthly,- always readable, and its anecdotes and stories* 
always point a wholesome moral. — Bostoji Times. 

9. It is a pleasure to call attention to Our Dumb Aftimals. It is suit-- 
able for children and adults, the home, and the Sunday-school. — The 
Beacon (Boston). 

10. Full of entertaining reading. — -Boston Pilot. 

11. No journal more cleverly conducted ever pleaded a worthy cause. 
— Lyceum (Washington, D. C). 

12. Worth five times its price, and should be found in every home. — 
West Virginia Argus. 

13. Its every page is animated by a loving spirit, which makes it inval- 
uable in a family where there are children. — Daily Herald (Norris- 
town. Pa.). 

14. It should be on every library table. — Germantorvn (Pa.). Gazette. 

15. Publication in every way worthy of encouragement. — Baltimore 
Nezvs. 

16. We advise every parent and teacher to send for it. .We do not 
know of any other publication so full of things to keep the hearts of the 
young tender towards all that breath. — School Education (St. Paul and 
Minneapolis). 

17. One of the most interesting exchanges that come to our table. — 
Catholic Knight (Cleveland, Ohio). 

18. Of all the publications which reach this office, Our Dumb Animals, 
of Boston, is the one which inspires the purest and tenderest thoughts. — 
The Pui7iam (West Virginia) Democrat. 



For p7'ices see last cover. 
TEACHERS AND CANVASSERS. 

Teachers can have '■'■Cur Diunb Animals''^ one year for 
twenty-five cents. 

Canvassers can have sample copies free, and retain one half 
of every fifty cent subscription. Address, 

GEORGE T. ANGELL, 

President of the A merican Htmiane Educatio7i Society, the Massach^tsetts 

Society for tlie Prevention of Cruelty to A ?iimals, and the Parent 

American Band of Mercy, 19 Milk Stkeet, Boston.