She shook her head.  “I’m not so sure of that.  I think there are some women in this very town just cranky enough to endorse such foolishness.  There’s Mrs. Judge Jenkins for one.  I’ve never yet been able to sell her a real stylish hat.  She won’t wear birds, because she thinks it’s wicked.  I hope to goodness she won’t consider it her duty to start an O’Dobbin society here.”

From the depths of my heart I blessed those kind women who had shown their disapproval of the nefarious traffic in bird life, and had pledged themselves to our protection.  True, they were but a handful compared with the millions whom the god Fashion still held in bondage, only a handful who were fighting the good fight; but would not the influence of their noble example and their pledge of mercy be spread abroad till all the women in Christian lands would join in the crusade against the wrong?

In my joy at the thought I chirped so loudly that the lady looked up from her reading.  She seemed suddenly to recall a thought as she glanced at my cage, for she said, “I must not forget to ask Katharine if she can take the bird home with her next week and keep it while Polly is gone to the country.  I’ll be sure to forget to feed it.  Anyway, I haven’t time to bother with it.”

The day before Polly left for the country I heard her inquiring for the “Daily,” which I remembered was the name they called the newspaper containing the account of the noble city ladies who had pledged themselves not to wear us any more.

“Tuesday’s paper?” her mother asked; she was busy at the time fastening a poor, little, mute swallow on a rich hat.  “Perhaps it was thrown behind the counter.  Did you want it for any special purpose?”

Polly replied that she wanted to read something in it.

“Well, it is probably torn up by this time,” said her mother.  “If it isn’t on the table in the back room, or on the shelf by the window, or behind the counter, I’m sure I don’t know where it is.”

The young clerk who was arranging the goods on the counter had heard Polly’s inquiry, and she now asked if it was the newspaper that told about the women who thought it wrong to wear birds.  It seemed to me that Polly hesitated a little as she replied that that was the very paper she wanted.

“Goodness, child, is that the piece you want to read?” Her mother’s voice sounded rather sharp, as if she were vexed.  “I hope that subject hasn’t turned your head too,” but she said no more, for just then a customer coming in, she laid down her work and went forward to greet her.

Polly looked troubled, but she confided to Miss Katharine that she wanted very much to read the account.

“Fortunately I cut the piece out to give to my sister.  I knew she’d be interested in it, but I have always forgotten to give it to her,” said the clerk.  She seemed to be very much in earnest as she continued, “I do wish something could be done to save the birds.  If women must have feathers, why can’t they content themselves with wearing ostrich tips and plumes?  There is nothing cruel or wicked in the way they are procured.”