The other anonymous communication to which reference has been made, emanating as it does from the pen of a lady deeply alive to the interest of the subject, is pregnant with the most astounding truths. I cannot refrain from quoting it in its entirety. Read what she says:—
"Let me say a few words for the dear companions of my childhood. I live in one of the loveliest spots on earth, on the banks of the Hudson. Magnificent old forest trees surround me while I write, and the songs of many birds fill my heart with their melody. To my mind, their notes this afternoon have a pleading tone, and I feel compelled to answer their appeal by using my small influence against their enemies, the sparrows. Years ago our ears were delighted with the thrilling notes of the thrush, the meadow lark, the oriole, and many birds who find a welcome home in our grand old pines and oaks. We little thought when we welcomed as enthusiastically as any one the importance of the sparrow that they would destroy this pleasure for us; but sad experience has taught us a lesson regarding them. As they accomplished their work so well in the city, it was deemed advisable to try them here also; why, I know not, as I cannot remember that we were ever much troubled in our locality with the worms and caterpillars that did, I know, infest New York. But out they came in great numbers, and bitterly did we rue the day. One by one our dear little songsters disappeared, larks, thrushes, scarlet tanagers, orioles, all fell victims to the quarrelsome dispositions of the little sparrows. Even the robins could hardly hold their own against them. For three or four years we suffered the loss of our favorites, and then indignation overpowered
