STRANGE accidents happen to birds as well as to people, and some of them are as unexplainable as those that fall to our lot. I remember finding a meadow lark suspended from a barbed-wire fence several years ago, dead, its throat pierced by one of the sharp barbs. The bird had apparently attempted to fly between the wires and, miscalculating the distance, had dashed against the barb.

Another curious case which came under my notice was that of a small water bird. While walking along the bank of the river flowing through our place, I discovered the little fellow dangling from a willow, his head firmly wedged in one of the forks. He had been there some time, and how he ever got caught in that fashion is a mystery.

But the strangest mishap of all I ever witnessed occurred last summer. I was picking peas in the garden when my attention was attracted by the fluttering and half choked cries of a bird a little distance from me. Hastening to the place I found a brown field bird hanging from a pea vine. Around its neck was a pea clinger, which formed a perfect noose. As nearly everyone knows, pea clingers form into all imaginable shapes. The bird was feeding under the vines and, being frightened by my approach and in trying to escape, had thrust its head through the clinger with the above result. I soon freed it and saw it fly away but little the worse for the adventure.

To the Editor of Birds and All Nature:

I find your periodical most interesting and instructive, as it brings one into closer relation with all forms of life.

Better than a knowledge of Hebrew, Greek and Latin is it to know what the birds, the trees, and flowers all say, what the winds and waves, the clouds and constellations all tell us of coming events.

There is a world of observation, thought and enjoyment for those who study nature in all her varying moods that is denied those who, having eyes see not and having ears hear not.

In looking over Birds and All Nature I have noticed with pleasure some articles from the pen of Caroline Crowninshield Bascom that have particularly pleased me. Her interpretations of what her pet cats and birds have to say, their manifestations of intelligence, and the sentiments of affection, or envy, jealousy, and malice; their obedience and their moralities under her judicious training. A woman who can train a cat to live in harmony with a bird, to see each other caressed in turn by a beloved mistress, should be on the county school board as a successful educator. For boys and girls can be more easily trained than those in the lower forms of life. I trust Miss Bascom will not try to harmonize the cat with rats and mice, lest those natural-born thieves increase to such an extent that every municipality will be compelled to have traps and police in every nook and corner, in every cellar and garret of all our private and public buildings. There is a limit, dear Miss Bascom, to peace and good will on earth.

Elizabeth Cady Stanton.
New York, July 1, 1899.