" And the
boys worked hard and faithfully to follow his advice. Homeless cats,
stray, mangy dogs, ill-fed horses, neglected cows, street sparrows,
pigeons, bluejays, were watched and protected and relieved of their
sufferings all that winter through. Finally Benson's father arranged his
evenings so that he could spend an hour with the club at each meeting,
which time he devoted to "lecturing" on the habits and haunts of
animals and birds. Those lectures were the delight of all, for this
happy-hearted, boyish man would, in some marvellous fashion, discover
all the humorous habits and comical dispositions and actions of every
living thing. The little wiry-haired Irish terrier was a comedian, he
declared. The bull-moose was a tragedian, the black bear cub was a
clown, the lynx a villain, and the migrating birds a sweet, invisible
chorus. Then to each and all he would attach some fascinating story,
explaining why they resembled these characters. Often the entire club
would be roaring with laughter over animal antics and bird capers,
then the young faces would be very serious the next minute over some
pathetic, heartbreaking tale of hunted deer-mothers trying to protect
their pretty fawns, or some father fox lying dead because a swift bullet
had caught him as he raided the poultry yard in the endeavor to seize
food for the pretty litter of sharp-nosed little cubs, curled up with
their mother in a distant cave.
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