"No, none at all. Think of that, ye maiden of New England, where the
males are nearly all migrants and do not return! The only chance for a
bird-bachelor is to console some widow whom accident has bereaved of her
mate. Widowers also are ready for an immediate second marriage. Birds and
beasts of prey and boys--hey, Alf--bring about a good many step-parents."
"Alf don't kill any little birds, do you, Alf?" asked his mother.
"Well, not lately. You said they felt so bad over it But if they get over
it so easy as the doctor says--"
"Now, doctor, you see the result of your scientific teaching."
"Why, Mrs. Leonard, are you in sympathy with the priestcraft that would
keep people virtuous through ignorance?" said the minister, laughing.
"Alf must learn to do right, knowing all the facts. I don't believe he
will shy a stone at a bird this coming year unless it is in mischief."
"Well," said Squire Bartley, who had relapsed into a half-doze as the
conversation lost its practical bent, "between the birds and boys I don't
see as we shall be able to raise any fruit before long. If our boys
hadn't killed about all the robins round our house last summer, I don't
think we'd 'a had a cherry or strawberry."
"I'm afraid, squire," put in Webb, quietly, "that if all followed your
boys' example, insects would soon have the better of us. They are far
worse than the birds. I've seen it stated on good authority that a
fledgling robin eats forty per cent more than its own weight every
twenty-four hours, and I suppose it would be almost impossible to compute
the number of noxious worms and moths destroyed by a family of robins in
one season.
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