The Hounds of Hastings: The Welfare of Animals in a Small Town 9780231894463

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Table of contents :
Editor’s Preface
I. Here Is a Problem
II. Who Cares?
III. Mobilization
IV. Faith and Work
V. Making It Legal
VI. Give a Dog a Bad Name
VII. Telling the People
VIII. Bending the Twig
IX. The Wherewithal to Do
The Practical Humane Worker’s Book Shelf
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T h e Hounds of Hastings NUMBER OF








by S A M U E L



Professor of Social Legislation Columbia University

The Hounds of Hastings THE





By M A R I O N S O E T E M O N K R O W S With a Foreword by SYDNEY H A I N E S C O L E M A N

New Y o r k : M o r n i n g s i d e COLUMBIA



1 938




1938 PRESS,



Foreign agents: OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS, Humphrey Milford, Amen House, London, E.C. England, AND B. I. Building, Nicol Road, Bombay, India; K W A N G HSUEH PUBLISHING HOUSE, 140 Peking Road, Shanghai, China; MARUZEN C O M P A N Y , L T D . , 6 Nihonbashi, Tori-Nichome, Tokyo, Japan

Manufactured in the United States of America

To the Memory




















Foreword THE humane movement has had its great leaders. Here in America we may well revere the names of Henry Bergh, Elbridge Gerry, George T . Angell, and William O. Stillman. But, for a movement to grow, to gain force, to wax strong there is required also the support and sacrifice of workers in the towns and cities throughout the nation. This book truly represents an unselfish career in that morelimited but none-the-less important field. Those of us who have been officially connected with the humane movement in America have long had the comforting assurance that Mrs. Arthur Edwin Krows has been doing an exemplary work in animal relief. Her location had something to do with it, because her home village of Hastings-on-Hudson, which is about twenty miles north of New York City, in the County of Westchester, has a community which might be anywhere in the United States. In other words, her problems there have been typical. One might almost call them universal. But this is not to deny credit to the author. Nor does it lessen her accomplishment to say that it has resulted from the promptings of a compassionate heart with which she merely happened to be bom, for with all the interesting location and all her compassion she has brought voluntarily to bear upon her work an unusual understanding of the humane purpose. By means of that, primarily, the work has been given direction and point which, in ordinary



hands, it probably never would have acquired. Consequently this book is not limited in its lessons either by a village situation or by an author with village horizons. I take especial pleasure, as president of The American Humane Association and Executive Vice-president of The American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, in congratulating Mrs. Krows on this newest development of her notable humane service and in urging all true lovers of animals to purchase for their libraries and for themselves, to read and to re-read to their profit, these illuminating chapters. SYDNEY H . New York City September 7, 19)7




THE application and administration of laws in any field of social action is just as important to the student of legislation as the enactment of legislation itself. This is particularly true of humane work in general and still more so of laws for the protection of animals. For many years a need has been felt for just such a guide and handbook as Mrs. Krows has supplied in the following pages. The pioneer in humane work in communities large and small has been from the time of Henry Bergh a more or less isolated and lone performer. Even with present-day organization and publication methods in every field of activity and with meetings and conferences demanding a large share of the social worker's time and energy, the humane workers of America have remained more apart and aloof from the currents of social life and interests than have those engaged in many less worthy efforts. They have had good leadership, excellent publications, and stimulating conferences on both a state and national basis, but in large areas of the country humane organization and even humane workers are nonexistent or weak and inefficient because they are not coordinated with the social life and needs of the local community. Mrs. Krows's simple and interesting record of what one person did with the aid of a few friends whose interest was aroused, and of how such activities can be related to the vital forces and life of the community may have as great significance for the American humane movement as improvement of standards and legislation for the protection of children and animals. It is also not without significance for


Editor's Preface

the student of legislation, because it is out of such experiences as those recorded by Mrs. Krows that good legislation and better administration are evolved. T h e Bulletin of Social Legislation is glad to include among its publications the book by Mrs. Krows, believing that it will be a valuable aid to the individual practical worker and that it will serve as a means of bringing such workers into more intimate relation with the social and educational forces upon which the development of sound policies in public affairs depend. While the author assumes the sole responsibility for all statements of fact in her book and for the soundness of the advice deduced from the experiences she relates in the solution of humane problems, the manuscript has been critically read and checked for accuracy by the editor with the assistance of graduate students. Professional advice and critical examination have also been secured from Miss Frances E. Clarke, Director of Humane Education for T h e American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals and for T h e American Humane Association, who in turn consulted the enforcement officers of The A.S.P.C.A., and from Mary Rodgers (Mrs. Daniel E.) Lindsay, then associated with the Research Bureau of the Welfare Council of New York City. Many valuable suggestions were received from these and other sources, which the author has cheerfully incorporated in the hope and expectation of making the book more readable and helpful to the large audience it seeks to serve and to enlist in more effective humane work. SAMUEL M C C U N E LINDSAY

Columbia University, New York August )o, 1937

Acknowledgments THE author thanks Professor Samuel McCune Lindsay, of Columbia University, Director of the Henry Bergh Foundation, for his editorial overview and his extended efforts for the publication of this book. Acknowledgments for friendly and practical cooperation are made also to Mr. Sydney Haines Coleman, President of the American Humane Association and Executive Vice-president of the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, to Miss Frances £ . Clarke and Mr. William £. Bevan, respectively Director of Humane Education and General Manager of the last-named organization, and to Miss I. M. Lynn, of the Columbia University Press, for valuable assistance in editorial revision. Last, but not least, the author bows to Mr. Victor A. Smith, who suggested the inspired title. All sums accruing from the sale of this book, beyond those required to defray the actual costs of publication and distribution, are directed to go unconditionally to The American Humane Association for animal work. In all instances, save a few in which identifications will matter to readers in general, fictitious names have been substituted for real ones. The purpose is, of course, to avoid undue conspicuousness for any person mentioned. Those who wish to lift the masks will have little trouble doing so, but what they discover will make small difference, for the intended message of this book is above and beyond all personal considerations. MARION SOETEMON Knows Hastings-on-Hudson, September



N. Y.

Contents Foreword, by Sydney Haines Coleman .



Editor's Preface, by Samuel McCune Lindsay




i Here Is a Problem


ii Who Cares?


in Mobilization


iv Faith and Work


v Making It Legal


vi Give a Dog a Bad Name


vii Telling the People


viii Bending the Twig ix The Wherewithal to Do

146 172

The Practical Humane Worker's Book Shelf .





Here Is a Problem "A RIGHTEOUS man regardeth the life of his beast"—so says the Old Testament (Proverbs XII. 10). I thought I knew my Bible fairly well, but I had not heard that quotation until one Humane Sunday, when a local minister chose it for his text. Since that time I have found that the same idea was expressed by Mohammed. It is in the thirteenth sura of the Koran: "A merciful man will be merciful to his beast." And I doubt not at all that Zoroaster also stated it, for as leader of a pastoral people he was a lover of animals. THE HUMANE POINT OF VIEW

It does not follow, however, that a man who is not righteous is therefore cruel. O. Henry once wrote a detective story on the theory that a wife beater usually loves horses and dogs, and in real life many and many a woebegone sinner, faithless to family and self, has been known to go out of his way to succor some poor, friendless little pup or a bedraggled kitten. This is additional proof that there is yet hope for the souls of humanity. Ethnologists tell us that primitive man looked upon animals as his brethren. It is true that he killed them to meet certain needs, but he usually apologized elaborately for the act and sometimes yielded human sacrifices in propitiation. In those days man returned from the hunt with no more game than he actually needed—not in a motor


Here Is a Problem

car laden with proofs of wanton slaughter. He and the animals were of a common lot in the sense that they were miserable together, both fighting fiercely for the survival of the fittest, although neither was well equipped to fight. In the thousands of years since then sentiment has changed mightily. Man has become the resident ruler of the earth, while his once-respected relatives which crawl and walk and swim and fly have stayed much as they were, save where man has encroached upon, or wholly appropriated, their domain. Being kind because one wants to be kind is the theme of this book. Whether or not we like animals does not matter. What does matter is our treatment of them. And everybody must admit the desirability of fair play—certainly everyone who concedes the tightness of the Ten Commandments. Such was the view of that distinguished actress and remarkable woman, Mrs. Minnie Maddern Fiske. Many times in her splendid career she said that she was not especially interested in animals themselves; the fine work she did for them was because her experience had proved conclusively that they generally get a very shabby deal. The writer wishes to describe a fair-play movement which has grown up in a typical, small American community, where just a few years ago it was not wanted. TIME AND PLACE

In 1920 America was still suffering from the enforced idleness of the building trades, and unoccupied houses were difficult to find. After a summer's vacation in the country, my husband and I had just come back to the city where we had lived for several years and were casting about

Here Is a Problem


for a home. We found everything full and were obliged to take what we could get within an hour's commuting radius from my husband's office. As luck would have it, we discovered a comfortable house in a suburban community with a population of about seven thousand, and having transported our lares and penates from the storage warehouse into that new home, we found ourselves entering upon the curious adventure which I am about to relate. Moving into a strange place, even when relatives and friends are only an hour away as the trolley rocks, is, for a woman, at least, pretty much of an ordeal. In this village, which we were to learn to call our home town, I knew nobody but a next-door neighbor. She was and has consistently remained a friendly soul; but all else seemed strange and forbidding. There was a warm feeling soon to come—a feeling of indignation—which ultimately resulted in the making of more friends than enemies. Typical of the way the adventure worked out is an incident which was recalled to my memory by a woman friend the other day. She was a stranger to me then, off visiting her relatives in the Far West, and the first she heard of me was when she received a note reading: "Your cat, which you left for a neighbor to feed, has been picked up starving. Do you want it boarded somewhere, or shall the authorities dispose of it?" It happened that Lola, being a common-sense little person, always just, was appreciative rather than resentful, and her answer, which happily decided that poor old Tammany should be put out to board, was the beginning of our long friendship. During my first few weeks in the new home I was too busy to pay much attention to surroundings, save as they forced themselves upon me. Painters and decorators and


Here Is a Problem

rearrangement of furniture, in addition to routine household duties, occupied me steadily indoors, and when I did manage to get out it was just to try to lessen my homesickness by short calls on friends in the nearby city where I had been "born and raised." T o reach the train I had to go into the village proper— "down-street," as so many folks in such places put it. Here, in spite of my certainty that I never would come to care for this village or the people in it, I began to make social observations. T h e policeman who stood beneath the big advertising umbrella at the crossing and beckoned the trolley in and out of the village gradually revealed himself as three respectful officers serving in turn; the vicious-looking Italian with the ferocious mustache who ran the greengrocery became a mild, benevolent figure when he played paternally with the little children of the neighborhood; and I made other humanizing observations such as are possible for every stranger in a strange town. T H E INSPIRED


These were involuntary observations. T h e things which I looked for quite naturally, considering my major interest, were the animals of the place. I say I looked for them. T h a t is not precisely true. Somehow or other animals in trouble usually show themselves, if they are able, when I pass. My husband first called my attention to this, but looking backward I can see that it has been so since I was a child. In childhood I was always distressing my parents by bringing unfortunate animals home. In the grown-up time my husband and I would be coming home late at night from the theater, perhaps, through streets empty and desolate, when suddenly a cat would appear on a fence to

Here Is a Problem


rub against my shoulder or a dog would cross the street to trail us. A t the playhouse, the chances are that I watched most of the performance with the theater cat curled in my lap. I used to think that this was mere coincidence; but now I know it is not. Wild things which no one else can entice often make me happy by coming to me—and this, no matter where I am. A few years ago, at far-off Lake Louise, in the Canadian Rockies, the little rock rabbits scampered to my call, and at Banff a disconsolate eagle in a cage, which had neither look nor utterance for anyone else, winged heavily down beside me and told me his troubles volubly in language which was unintelligible but in accents which were clear. What I am most grateful for is that most of the creatures which do come to me so strangely are those which are friendless and in sore need of attention. T o be sure, there are exceptions. T h e other night I had to return home unescorted through a dark village street. Midway I encountered a rough-looking fellow. W e both hesitated. Suddenly there appeared beside me a bull terrier which belonged nearby, but which I never had noticed before. He nuzzled my hand gently, and then, with a low growl, approached the man, who quickly moved to the middle of the road. T h e dog left him and accompanied me as far as the well-lighted highway, where he watched me awhile and then trotted back into the shadow. In my wanderings around our little village I found an extraordinary number of stray animals. Homeless dogs would come down to the railroad station in the morning in packs, following the commuters. Nearly all were racks of skin and bone, and they were in desperate condition.


Here Is a Problem

Particularly there were many dogs suffering from mange. Now mange is an affliction of which the jokesmiths make light, but to animal creation it is a scourge. When permitted to run its course it often results in blindness. Even in its early stages it is highly infectious to other animals. Then there were cats. I am likely to say much about cats, because among animal pets cats get by all odds the worst of it. They are rarely subjects of legislation; no licenses are required for them; and litde may be done to punish those who abuse them. T o all but the trained observer their maltreatment is unbelievable. "NICE PUSSY"

T h e village cats were just typical cats—sick, neglected, abandoned. You may see cats just like them anywhere. We first heard some of them during the night as they knocked covers off the refuse barrels and foraged within. Famished dogs have the same trick, but we knew that these marauders were cats because we could see them in the moonlight from the upper windows. They were the wildest I have ever known. When cornered, they would spit and scratch, as if in retaliation for human abuse. They would growl and bolt any food thrown to them—pieces of dry bread, potatoes, anything edible. I have seen them gnawing even bits of a cardboard box which chanced to be soaked with grease. You could no more get near them then than you could touch the tail of a startled deer. Yet before many weeks of eating decent food had passed, a few would submit to reassuring pats on the head, and one, at least, consented to take up winter quarters in our cellar. Stray cats are the rule—and the rule clearly obtained in the village to which we had come—largely because all the

Here Is a Problem


world loves kittens. They are so cute, folks will tell you, that no one has the heart to do away with them; but I have noticed that most of these persons are so consistently tender hearted that when the novelty wears off they will take the poor, helpless little things miles away and drop them at the roadside. Without going into their excuses, let it be said here and now that the cat does not "always come back," as the saying has it, and that there is not always somebody in the far-off place where the kittens are abandoned who will shelter them. T h e persons who might have taken them in probably are miles away, in some other direction, dropping kittens of their own. All of which is merely to say that on the thoroughfare which passed our door I began to find kittens which had been dropped, some with their eyes still unopened, but all unweaned, which I knew because they had not yet learned to eat. Stray cats and dogs are problems for all true animal lovers, who are distinguished from casual animal lovers just as faith and works are separated. T r u e animal lovers practice what they preach. As a true animal lover, therefore, I accepted these stray cats and dogs with proper resignation and tried in my small way to feed them, to find homes for them, to relieve their suffering, and, when all constructive measures failed, to dispose of them humanely. THE J O L L Y


T h e rarer cases of cruelty, so unexpected among decent people, were what finally outraged me. These first came to my attention when I saw a sight which is usual in the suburbs, I find—the man who, shouldering his gun, walks blithely into the free country to shoot birds of any de-


Here Is a Problem

scription whatsoever which he can see. Our cheerful robins are an especial lure to him. It must be confessed that in times immediately succeeding the Civil War robins on toast were to be had in almost any American restaurant. But the marauder in question has what must be, from his viewpoint, a stronger precedent, for in countries bordering the Mediterranean, song birds are shot by the inhabitants for food. From this you may gather that the usual hunter of this description hails from the south of Europe or Asia Minor, "the cradle of civilization." He really does not know any better, for his training and background have inculcated the habit in him; but this excuse does not help the birds he brings down. In their interest I was bound to think, whenever I saw one of his ilk, of laws which require licenses for hunting, which define seasons, which specify game, and in the case of New York State, which forbid shooting within the limits of an incorporated village. I wish I had known then that by our statutes every robin brought to earth in this manner calls for a fine of one hundred dollars. This is a splendid new twist for the ancient query, "Who killed Cock Robin?" There is less excuse for the American boy whose doting parents present him with a rifle and encourage him to use it, careless of the fact that our cowboy-and-Indians life is pretty well gone and that good markmanship is today no particular sign of manly character. T h e boy with the gun, shooting at everything he sees and ignorant of the suffering he causes, was Longfellow's celebrated analogy for the young critic of literature. I met this boy, in one guise or another, on the roads around the village; but, at that period of my history, I caught him only once with his game. If he managed to hit any other creatures, no doubt he did

Here Is a Problem


it badly and left them in helpless agony, able to escape him, but not to escape a slow, relentless death. In this case the boy had a gray squirrel. He denied killing it, but the body was still warm and so was the rifle, and there was a bullet hole where the life had slipped through. T h e boy went off, after a lecture, which he probably ignored, and my husband buried the squirrel in our back yard. But I made up my mind that the time was coming when such things would stop in my little part of the United States, at least. SHAME IN T H E M A R K E T


T h e n there was the case of the grocery which now and then undertook to sell live poultry. I was particularly watchful for storekeepers who were callous to suffering, because I had just returned from a neighboring city, where I had witnessed a horrible incident. Passing a kosher fish market, I had seen a sickly looking woman within lift a good-sized live carp from a tank in the window. She struck the fish on the head with a mallet, but so weakly that it only wriggled the more, and then she proceeded to cut it up, still struggling, with a huge pair of shearsl I hurried in and made her hit it again—this time to kill it; and again I delivered a lecture, which she undoubtedly dismissed with a shrug of her shoulders as soon as I had turned my back. But, to return to the village incident, which was not quite so horrible, bad as it was, and which had to do with the sale of live fowls. T h e daughter of the proprietor was merely doing as she had often seen her father do—keeping the chickens out of mischief by locking their wings one over another. Their feet were already tied. Thus secured, they awaited customers and their doom, with the added


Here Is a Problem

torture of being deprived of food and drink. T h e middleman, who had brought them to the store, had given them grain and water in accordance with some law or other that governed him, but as to further provisions—why bother? They were only chickens, and besides, they had to die anyway. I do not mean to linger over these instances. Indeed, I want to forget them. I am just listing the small events which combined to spur me "to do something about it." But, to make that list complete I must add just one more example of thoughtless cruelty which I then encountered in the village—that is, the maltreatment of horses. THOUGHTLESS CRUELTY

My qualification of the cruelty as "thoughtless" calls for comment. It is proof of the humanizing influence on man in the past quarter-century that there is, in this country at least, so much less out-and-out viciousness. Most of the cruelty which exists here today is unwitting, and that is why the need for special departments of humane education, of which I will have something to say later, is looming larger and larger as time goes on. T h e case of the village horses occurred in early winter. T h e song birds had gone southward, their hunters had put up their guns until the return of spring, and the blankets for the patient horses were beginning to feel quite comfortable around the legs of the driver as he sat upon his seat. T h e particular horses of this story drew the village ash wagons—and in their case there were no blankets even for the drivers. T h e horses belonged, amazingly enough, to the village corporation itself; and who can protest to the village which,

Here Is a Problem in the eyes of the timid soul, is the visible power of the land? One could complain to the drivers, however, and that I did. Once, twice, thrice did no good. T h e fourth time I threatened them with arrest, and on this occasionperhaps because the idea of the village police locking up their own department of public works was so preposterous— they procured blankets. T o please me they put the blankets on the horses; and having pleased me, they took them off again as soon as I had turned the corner. They insisted upon working one horse despite a lameness so serious that the animal could scarcely bear to touch one hind foot to the ground. They rested that animal only when my complaints on several successive days culminated in a threat to call in from New York T h e American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. They seemed to fear The A.S.P.C.A., and this was unfortunate, too, because that organization, was then as it is now, really a friendly force working for their good. There were other cases of cruelty, many thoughtless and many wanton; but I have mentioned enough cases, I think, to explain my growing distress at not being able to cope single-handed with the animal situation in the village. I was simply overwhelmed with the multiplied instances of cruelty, and consequently I was obliged to go outside my own domestic world for aid. Stray dogs and cats I had tried to reestablish in their original homes whenever I could find the homes. I had scanned lost-and-found columns in newspapers of outlying towns for the all-too-infrequent appeals of anxious owners. I had answered many of these on the remotest chances of bringing separated friends together, attested handsomely by the large number of out-of-town calls listed with the


Here Is a Problem

receipt-stubs of our telephone bills covering that period. When the rightful homes could not be identified and when the owners could not be shamed into taking back unwanted animals, I sought new homes; but the vast majority of cases I was obliged to dispose of finally with the aid of the lesser Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals in my old home city, where it was struggling hard for useful existence. I cannot forego mentioning here just one telling illustration of the almost complete lack of understanding on the part of the village folk when I first encountered them. Coming from the local market one day, I found a cat, dying from starvation and neglect, lying on a sidewalk outside a house with an open door. Taking the animal up, 1 asked some children playing there whether the cat had a home, and I received the expected reply that it had not. At that moment a friendly woman who had been watching through the doorway called out to me: "Don't take that one. If you want a cat, I can give you a good one." She meant well, and I thanked her. I did not try to explainnot just then. WHAT A STRANGE IDEA!

Finding myself unable to care for all the cases which 1 just stumbled upon, I thought that the police ought to know what to do, so I asked them. No, they did not know who took care of animals hereabout. Indeed, there was no need of any person to care for them. Animals can always take care of themselves. They are often seen getting a good feed out of the refuse barrels. T o which I countered with my usual query, "Do you, in these days of the high cost of living, throw away any good food?" And when they nat-

Here Is a Problem


urally answered "No," I dropped the discussion. But I satisfied myself concerning an important point, that is, that the local police knew nothing of the state laws dealing with animals, principally because the laws were never invoked for village use. Nevertheless, the police must have felt something of the justice of what I was trying to accomplish, for they excused themselves on the entirely reasonable grounds that they were only a small force and had about all they could do, in day and night shifts, directing the heavy automobile traffic which streamed steadily along the two great highways. Those roads, incidentally, connected more progressive places which once had been villages, too. T h e policemen had no time to attend to their proper functions of patrolling the residential districts, much less to bother with animals. A place to impound the strays was out of the question. There was no appropriation for the purpose, no convenient corner of the village stables for it, and (here again was the trump card) not enough occasion for a pound to justify the political and other machinery necessary to maintain one. I may add, however, that only five years later our little group was able to point to more than two thousand cases of animal relief in our little village alone! My next move was to seek the nearest humane officer, for I was then of the belief that each district throughout the country must be represented by at least one efficient arm of that splendid humane service which I had seen operating in large cities. I found him presently in the person of one of my own neighbors. He it was who gave me the first inkling that it is hard to find S.P.C.A. rural and suburban workers. Money for this work is far below require-


Here Is a Problem

ments, and most of the workers are volunteers who sandwich their service as best they can between duties incident to making a living. Such was this neighbor. He had once worn the badge of the society; but a few years before he had resigned. He could not endure the inconvenience of answering long-distance emergency calls (often unjustified) at all hours of the day and night while earning his bread and butter. He said quite frankly that I should profit by his experience and give up, too. He was sincere. He had tried and failed. But I closed my ears to reason and went on.


Who Cares? W H E N our government of federated states proved the expediency of getting together they set a noble example. In numbers there is not only strength but also comfort. That truth came to me with especial force when, after having fumed with indignation at finding the home village indifferent to the welfare of the many animals in it, I began to find other residents who seemed indignant, too. They were indignant for the same reason—and that is a fact of great importance to this record.

Yet I am especially anxious not to make too much of the indignation of the others, because there are in all outrageous circumstances some persons who merely profess indignation and some who are sufficiently indignant to do something about it. Without meaning to be too severe on those in the former class, I may still point out that as far as the village as a whole was concerned no one's indignation concerning cruelty to animals had boiled up enough to make him or her fighting mad. It was left for me to achieve that pitiable state. Fortunately, I succeeded; otherwise I might today be pointed out as another awful example of failure. THE M A N W H O GAVE UP

The one-time official humane agent bowed himself out of the picture on stated grounds. His excuse would have


Who Cares?

been acceptable had he not tried, from time to time to prove that conditions in the village did not warrant the services of an agent. He said, for instance, that virtually all the cases requiring attention had concerned the welfare of horses; and, of course, this being a horseless age—well, there you have it. Moreover, "they" are now more strict about the licensing of dogs, for they come around once a year to check you up; and anybody who thinks enough of a dog to pay so much for him per annum is going to take reasonably good care of him. Moreover, again, he cited the old argument about cats waxing fat on what they get out of the refuse barrels. And so forth. It is necessary to explain that at this time I had no thought of taking up his fallen standard and leading an animal crusade in this Village of Heedless Manor. I was only looking for some other person with the needful knowledge of politics and economics and all the other necessary arts and sciences to press a button and bring reform. In this vain search, however, I did find that tiny group of sympathizers which was to become the nucleus of a larger body, and that, eventually, as I shall soon describe, wrought sweeping changes. It is natural that kindred spirits gravitate toward one another. A slender chance brought me my first proof that there was in the village one other woman who cared. T h e day had come when my husband, who had warned me repeatedly not to think vainly that I was the only person who could be kind to animals, was too busy to cut the hedge; and I was obliged to engage the services of a handy man recommended by a lady across the street. This man made the excellent condition of my own animals an excuse for confiding in me his own especial love for horses and

Who Cares?


dogs. When I rejoined by deploring the lack o£ true animal lovers thereabout, he told me of a woman who lived in an isolated and remote house, near the southern boundary of the village. He related how she had interfered when a passing horse was being beaten and how she was in the habit of relieving animal suffering of any description, wherever and whenever it was brought to her attention. When a veterinary surgeon attended one of my animals which had been injured, 1 heard of her again. The doctor verified what the handy man had said; and this time, my curiosity fully aroused, I set forth to visit the lady, certain that my interest in the cause would be sufficient introduction. ANOTHER


Mrs. Westergren—her real name would not serve the purpose of this history any better—proved to be a Swedish gentlewoman of middle age who had seen far better days, but who was now living in circumstances which compelled her to do alone all the work of her large home. Her husband was also a lover of animals, particularly of dogs. T h e dogs maintained by Mr. Westergren were the most positively one-man creatures I have ever known. Mrs. Westergren herself was in deadly fear of what they might do. According to her own statement, if they ever escaped unleashed from the room in which they were regularly confined they would tear to pieces any unfamiliar living thing they might encounter. Now, I have no sympathy for persons who allow animals undue privileges or who rate them any higher than they deserve. I seek for dumb creatures merely a just consideration. I think that later pages will make clear what I mean.


Who Cares?

Vicious animals of any kind which cannot live without restraint—the creatures of menageries and those in the wild excepted, of course—should be humanely destroyed. It should be done regardless of any sentimental attachments. When I say that, I am thinking, not about Mr. Westergren's dogs, but about a particularly vicious bull terrier which a relative maintained for a long time simply because it had belonged to her son who was lost in the World War. Another problem is presented by the coddled dogs of doting owners. Owners who sit at table, their pets vis-à-vis, napkins tucked in their harnesses, are minor offenders. But the wealthy woman who lately won a place in the news columns for spending $50,000 annually for the upkeep of one toy dog certainly gained also the complete and undisguised contempt of all animal lovers who recognize normal, natural limits to all things. Mrs. Westergren told me the correct version of the horse story which had been related to me by the handy man and various other incidents which could be readily classified with my own recent experiences in the village. She assured me that the residents generally were a selfish lot with no regard for animals. She had proved that to her own satisfaction, for she and her husband had had to relinquish a handsome home in the Snob Hill section of the village because their neighbors had objected so strenuously to their dogs. No, waitl One couple did not object. Indeed, they sympathized a little. According to Mrs. Westergren, Mr. and Mrs. Vokes were true animal lovers—Mrs. Vokes especially (this was the first I heard of Lola), although Mr. Vokes had proved his sentiment for years by donating his services as expert accountant to auditing annually the

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books of one of the country's largest humane organizations. My acquaintance with Mrs. Westergren progressed by proverbial leaps and bounds. We exchanged our treasured newspaper and magazine clippings which dealt with the great cause of animal welfare. Somehow I felt stronger because of the knowledge that animal lovers, such as Mrs. Westergren and Mrs. Vokes, were doing their bits of humane work at the northern and southern boundaries of the village while I struggled along in a central location. Then, that there were three of us gave me a new idea— namely, the possible formation of a little society of our very own. When I told Mrs. Westergren about it, she started to shake her head before I had finished. It was impossible, she said, and she knew because her husband had once tried to organize a group in the village, only to find interest wholly lacking. Thus my suggestion promptly joined those other historic ventures which "couldn't be done." It is only natural that persons who play a lone hand will think of the rest of the world as opposed to them, so for awhile I went on with a mental picture of Mrs. Westergren, Mrs. Vokes, and myself as trying to build up life which the rest of the community was wantonly tearing down. But it so happens that one cannot even edge in on life without being drawn along with the current to events which are new and usually greater. At least, that was my experience. I have mentioned that the excellent condition of my household pets attracted the attention of the handy man. This was neither unusual nor alien to human nature. Persons will go out of their way to admire a handsome animal, which merely yawns at them in response to their attention, and later they will avoid a tattered creature begging for


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their help. This explains why animal lovers frequently refuse gifts of valuable cats and dogs, preferring for their own pets, alley mongrels. Almost anybody is willing to shelter the valuable ones; few will befriend the unwanted. A REAL RECRUIT

More than one passerby stopped to pet my animals as they gamboled on the front lawn. Those who stopped because they found sleek animals a novelty in the village paused only once or twice. But Mrs. Tate stopped often. What distinguished her was the behavior of the pets. They seemed to recognize her sincerity. As one of our friends would say, she talked cat. When conversation began between us and the major subject proved to be congenial, acquaintanceship rapidly developed. She really loved animals. Mrs. Tate lived on the boulevard, just up the hill from us. After the autumn foliage had fallen from the trees I could see her house from my front windows. This gave me an added feeling of pleasure, for the house became a symbol of the woman and the good work she was doing. Her work was of the same volunteer variety as my own, inspired by the identical sort of intolerable distress and coupled with a crusading spirit which longed also for the rights of animals under the law. Her husband was a retail jeweler in New York—a man whose point of view on kindness to animals as a life work was about the same as that of my husband—tolerant, mildly interested, but entirely dubious. Both husbands were destined to improve, voluntarily. Mr. Tate was devoted and anxious to please his wife, but he feared, just as my hus-

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band feared concerning me, that handling sick and sometimes vicious animals might result in injury to her. But Mrs. Tate could no more have stopped being humane than she could have stopped breathing. Mrs. Tate's introduction is especially ceremonious because she was more spontaneous in her efforts for the good cause than was anyone else in the village. If I had never founded a humane society for that community, Florence Tate would still be performing her part of the work just as she was carrying on when I found her. It does not really matter to her whether we work or not. She works with us or without us. Since I left the making of new friends to chance and nourished a feeling of outrage toward the village at large, my circle of acquaintances was not likely to grow rapidly. But these disadvantages were amply compensated for by the advent of one of those aggressive women who seemingly cannot rest content while there is a single person in the world unaware of them. I used to wonder what was such a woman's true mission in life, but now I know that she serves unwittingly, like the ancient Phoenicians, in scattering useful information over wide areas. THE


Mrs. Light—persons really should have descriptive names such as this which I give to her—was the lady who lived across the street from us. From the day we moved in she abounded in neighborliness, which began before breakfast and ended frequently long after the bass drone of the nine o'clock whistle at night. From the same date she was a self-elected cicerone for me in village manners, customs,


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antiquities, and curiosities. Because of her insistence I took the step which suddenly made my interest known to the whole population. From Mrs. Light I learned that all affairs in the village which were not governed by the volunteer fire department were inaugurated, operated, and controlled by the Woman's Club, and her dearest wish for at least sixteen hours out of every twenty-four was to propose me for membership. I was lukewarm in my response. In the city of more than one hundred thousand inhabitants, where I had been born and reared, I had never known anything which quite corresponded with the Woman's Club in the average small community. Nevertheless, I finally did consent to attend a meeting as a guest to see the wheels go round and to convince myself that if I ever was to count for anything at all in the village I must be signed and countersigned by that organization. What I did find at the first meeting I attended was the usual thing, which is all-too-familiar to most American women, so I need not go into details. But probably because it all was so new to me, I did recognize the Woman's Club's great opportunities for civic betterment. Mrs. Light explained to me that the ladies sewed shirts for soldiers when there was a war; donated books to the little village library; gave alms to the local poor families; and accomplished other Samaritan acts which could not be obscured by the milder activities undertaken at their monthly meetings, when they listened to casual lectures and drank tea in the ecstasy of the get-together spirit. " I would like it very much indeed," I told Mrs. Light, "if only they would do something also for the protection of their animals." Whereupon Mrs. Light made the very sensible

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comment that probably they would do something about it, if I should tell them how. Here was a real opportunity. These ladies, after all, were the true strength of the community. How much they could do—if they only would I It never occurred to me in my naive earnestness, that they might not. So, all enthusiasm, I set about gathering the facts necessary for a clear presentation of the case at their next meeting. ADVICE FROM HEADQUARTERS

Before then I had acted in matters of animal relief entirely upon impulse. Now I began to realize that to persons who had never felt the urge "impulse" would be no reason at all. Consequently, in gathering facts I did not trust to my unaided judgment. I journeyed instead to New York and sought an interview with the executive head of T h e American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. This was my first meeting with the late William K. Horton, who subsequently became also head of T h e American Humane Association. In the reference to him, of course, one recognizes his true name. I found him then, as always, accessible, courteous, completely informed, and glad to help; but I remember that I was struck principally with the complete absence in him of sentimentality concerning animals. A true animal lover beyond all question, but one who had achieved the ability to detach himself from his prejudices and appreciate the enemy's point of view quite as much as mine. In our conversation it soon became apparent that for the local Woman's Club to undertake animal relief as a side issue was a feasible idea and in practice would be approved


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by The A.S.P.C.A., which by arrangement with the state already had supervision over animal matters in our county. T h e club could scarcely be expected to give more than a part of its attention to the work, of course, so The A.S.P.C.A. was willing to send one of its field agents to care for any urgent case which might develop with us, as, indeed, it would do even now for any individual living within its jurisdiction. This was promising. At the same time I had misgivings about the New York agent. Even if he responded immediately to a call he could not reach our community in much less than an hour. In that hour the animal concerned might be writhing in agony, or some humane offender might escape the consequences of a dastardly act. Moreover, with the heavy demands on the society in the city itself and in many other outlying sections, the chances were against an agent's prompt appearance. Was there not some way in which we could have an agent of our own, whose services would be available at shorter notice? It would cost money, naturally, especially since this agent could not be an ordinary handy man. He should be informed concerning animal laws. He should have at least enough veterinary skill to render intelligent first aid. And, being subject to emergency calls, he should be able to leave any other part-time work he might be doing in favor of this. Did I know of any such person in the village? No, unfortunately I did not. But I had an inspiration. In visualizing the man Mr. Horton described as qualified I thought about one whom I shall call George Cutler. He was the agent employed by the society in the city where I had been born. I thought also about the constant skimping, donations, and "benefits"

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by that society in order to pay George Cutler his small salary. I knew of all this because only a short while before I had been elected to the society's Board of Directors. What an excellent thing it would be for that organization to farm out the services of Cutler to our village Woman's Club for one day each week—emergency calls thrown in —for a corresponding part of his salary! Mr. Horton thought it would be a useful experiment, anyway, quite within the scope of the society's charter. Wherefore, with my enthusiasm still pitched high, I took my plan a few evenings later to the regular monthly directors' meeting of the old-home group. There it was carefully discussed. Eventually it was endorsed, mainly on the ground that the directors would have just a little less to worry about when they wondered where Cutler's already well-earned salary was coming from for the remaining six days of the week. On the other hand, the local Woman's Club would profit exceedingly by the extremity of those responsible for Cutler in obtaining the service of so worthy and experienced a man. THE WOMAN'S


Probably I never have made such careful preparation for an undertaking as I did in this instance. I felt that it was a wonderful chance to accomplish great good, and I was determined that it should not pass me by. A t least a week before the regular meeting of the Woman's Club I had before me, on paper, complete working specifications for a new branch of its community service. T h e step seemed of tremendous importance, probably because of the amount of preparatory effort I had already given to it. It began to frighten me. Also, I did not know how to present the


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matter to the club. Mrs. Light wanted me to do it myself in open meeting, but that did not seem the proper procedure, because I was not a member. At last, in desperation, I wrote my message as succinctly as my overflowing spirits would permit, expecting that somebody else would read it. Mrs. Light, with her usual directness, insisted that the person best qualified to do this was—let us call her Mrs. Heywood—the president of the club. Accordingly, I telephoned to that lady, introduced myself, and asked her to be my proxy. She replied that there was so much business on the schedule that she simply could not spare the time, but if I would be good enough to attend, she would take pleasure in calling upon me to tell them briefly all about it. This certainly was putting it up to me. Because I could not back down then, after all my discussions with the New York and home-town societies. I went to the memorable meeting under the protecting wing of Mrs. Light, who knew everybody and feared nobody. The meeting proceeded in accordance with Cushing's Manual, not omitting the gavel, and in due course of time, after more pressing business had been referred to committees or tabled, I was recognized by the chairman and graciously introduced. Since there was more business on the calendar, I was warned that the time at my disposal was short. This curtailment with my embarrassment and my earnest effort to simplify statement by means of generalities doubtless resulted in producing a poor impression. Nevertheless, I was sure of my principal facts and gave a fairly complete sketch of the work which might be done by an animal protection branch of the club. Here I was assisted by one of the social leaders of the

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village, the wife of a well-known theatrical star. She appreciated my kindness in addressing the meeting upon this interesting subject, but would I mind stating specifically what cases of cruelty to animals I had found in the village, inasmuch as she, in all the years she had lived there, had never seen any? At this my tongue loosened, and I related several of the incidents already set down in this record. I concluded by telling that some unwanted, new-born puppies had been buried alive and that several children, armed with shears, had cut off the legs and tails of kittens. Whereupon there were the customary cries of "O please!" and "O dear!" and eyes were covered to shut out the revolting spectacle. But it served to drive home one of my incidental points— that is, the need of humane education for village children. My inquisitor was troubled, too. Still, she smiled patiently and clung to her original thought. No doubt there were such horrible cases, and they were indeed deplorable, but they were the exceptions rather than the rule; and she was sure that humane education was being very well taken care of in the homes. CHAMPIONS

This lady's complacent remarks caused another lady, Mrs. Fadden, who lived near the eastern boundary of the village, to call for recognition by the Chair. Obtaining it, Mrs. Fadden began a line of opposition which won for her my instant regard. Humane education was not being cared for in the homes, and a local S.P.C.A. was sorely needed. That very morning she had prevented a number of small boys from trespassing on her property to shoot squirrels and birds. Her remarks were corroborated by Mrs. Vokes (a quiet little body, I perceived), who had nought to say save


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in question of fair play. Mrs. Vokes had observed many cases of cruelty to animals in her experience as a resident, and the record showed the probability of many more to come if some action were not taken to prevent them. For just a moment the tide seemed to be swinging with me. Then the Most High cut in. She was the wife of the leading citizen, the man with the largest local business interests. She would like to inquire how much, provided the club adopted the plan of having an S.P.C.A., it would cost. "Merely the salary for the agent for one day each week," I said, "three hundred dollars a year." T h e good lady laughed. "O dear! dear mel We could never raise that amountl We have all we can do now to raise the money it takes for the club to carry on." After the briefest possible pause the admirers of the Most High obeyed her cue for there were exclamations of "yes, indeed," and the chairman was obliged to pass to other business. My project was left on the table for future attention, which is yet to come; although more than twelve years later some misguided new member proposed that the club should take over our S.P.C.A. under the head of new business. I felt blue and discouraged, of course. I wanted to go home and be by myself. But I was in etiquette bound to remain for the inevitable tea drinking. Mrs. Fadden and Mrs. Vokes came over to amplify what they had said in meeting, but their friendly utterances only increased my dejection. Their kindness clearly was just the sympathy which is extended to one who has waged a brave fight and lost. 1 hate being pitied. I was so overwrought that I gave only scant attention to still another new acquaintance who was destined to become one of my ablest colleagues—Mrs. Roy.

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She was one of the hostesses, and as she poured tea for me, she told me in her quick, nervous way how very much she shared my feeling about the animal situation. A t length the ordeal was over, and I started home. Climbing the hill beyond the village proper I was joined by Mrs. Vokes who seemed to want to impress me with her sincerity. Next came Mrs. Roy with apparently the same thought. Mrs. Roy was the leader of the Girl Scouts in the village, a fact which aroused my interest because it meant that she must know something authoritatively about the need of humane education among the children. Both ladies urged me not to give up. "They're not very good at supporting anything," said Mrs. Vokes, "but this work is needed, and it must go on." "I'll be your first member," said Mrs. Roy. I stopped in my tracks and looked earnestly from one to the other as they stopped too, wondering what I had to say. "If I forget about the Woman's Club and start an S.P.C.A. myself," I said, "are you with me?" T h e y assured me that they were. Not much further was said just then, but there was plenty of thinking. In the next day or two my plan began to take shape. Mrs. Vokes and Mrs. Roy were delegated to call u p all the local ladies they knew who might be interested, and a meeting was called at the home of Mrs. Vokes, as a person better known than I was, for the following Tuesday afternoon. I regained heart and set to work with a will, revising my copious notes on organization to meet the new conditions and looking forward impatiently to Tuesday.


Mobilization afternoon of next week! T o most people it was just Tuesday afternoon; but to me it was a red letter day. Here was I, brought up in and always accustomed to the good old-fashioned standards of a sheltered life for women, about to embark on a thrilling adventure. I had sought protection for the unprotected dumb creatures of my community and had found it not; I had tried to induce existing authorities to undertake the work and had met with rebuff; and now I was leaping headlong into a dread unknown to found my very own Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. One of the things I considered, I remember, was what my people would think of me if I had to hale somebody to court, for instance, or figured in a street fracas in which some determined horse beater would not stop when I ordered him to. Yet such thoughts did not deter me from going ahead with the plan. TUESDAY


In truth, my fears were of small account compared with my complete revivification of spirit. Given the authority and the power with which to do, the prospect of accomplishing an outstanding piece of humane work was so defined that it fairly took my breath away. That I should not at once get either the authority or the power I did not



even consider. In the vision of a glorious goal all discouragements melted away, and the world already seemed better. My enthusiasm misled Mrs. Vokes as well, so that in preparation for Tuesday's meeting for all persons who had been invited to come to her house she purchased an extra pound of tea—I made several fat layer cakes. As it turned out, the total attendance at that first meeting, including Lola Vokes and myself, was six. Mrs. Tate was there, on the dot of the clock, as she naturally would be in a matter of that kind. Mrs. Westergren declared herself with us in spirit, but she was not with us in fact because, she had explained, her husband did not like her to go out of the house. Mrs. Roy, leader of the Girl Scouts, had kept her promise to come, putting to shame all others who had accepted the invitation and had conveniently forgotten it. Mrs. Mortimer, who lived a few doors away and was a rather lonely soul, constituted the fifth. T h e sixth was Mrs. Jones, who really should be called Mrs. Job, for all through the meeting she kept saying: "There's no doubt about our needing an S.P.C.A. in this village, but you won't be able to do anything—not ever. It's no use. People will do for children, but the minute they hear you say it's for animals . . . !" And then she would lapse into a condition of silent, destructive thinking which made my heart sink. Although we must have looked somewhat ridiculous, sitting there in the presence of what seemed like acres of cakes and a couple of enormous tea urns, the little meeting was serious indeed. T h e time was occupied chiefly in telling one another the personal evidences we had of the need of an S.P.C.A. in the village, thus controverting the opinion which had prevailed at the Woman's Club when they relegated our plan to the table. When we finally got down to



business, we talked of definite organization. I recall that I had done a little advance reading in Cushing's Manual so that the organization and conduct of the meeting might all be right and regular. In all events, we did organize, but as an authorized village branch of the existing society in my old-home town. We were obviously in water too deep for swimming alone. Mrs. Roy was made secretary, because she was used to writing letters and was not afraid to approach strangers if conditions warranted it. Mrs. Tate became vice-president. Mrs. Vokes naturally acquired the post of treasurer, because her husband was an expert accountant and undoubtedly would rally to her aid when columns would not add up correctly, or, at least, he would always be able to provide her with red ink for the debit side of the ledger. I was elected president as a reward for my enthusiasm. W A Y S AND M E A N S

Precisely one minute after organization someone had the good sense to put Rube Goldberg's famous cartoon question, "Now you got it, what you gonna do with it?" Very clearly, having an S.P.C.A. was of little use if it did not know how to function. For this problem there was fortunately a solution at hand; namely, the plan which had been prepared for the Woman's Club. Certain useful and pertinent things even we six could do. We could relieve animal suffering immediately around us; we could interfere with the exercise of cruelty; we could report cruelty; those of us who were brave enough could prosecute it in the name of the whole humane movement; and we each could do our little bit to disseminate humane education. But we could



not do the manifold expert things required of a field agent. Beside, we needed an experienced agent as a guide for our first faltering steps. In accordance with the plan endorsed by the old-home parent society, we should be permitted the service of its own agent, George Cutler, for one day each week, provided we should make up that part of his salary represented by this day. The amount was little enough, to be sure—only three hundred dollars a year—but then it seemed a small fortune. So we decided to try having Cutler, not for one day, but for a half day, at an expenditure of one hundred and fifty dollars per annum. This money was not to go for charity, but for a form of community protection which could rank very well with the other departments such as the Fire Department, Police Department, and Health Department. But here it was time for another pertinent question, which is much the same as the celebrated rejoinder to that helpful person who suggested that the problem might be solved with a piece of string—"Have you a piece of string?" Had we one hundred and fifty dollars? I should have been short-sighted, indeed, had I not in some degree anticipated this question. My proffered solution was to raise the amount by campaigning for membersmembers of the old-home society which would accept the new membership dues in payment for Cutler's salary. I had accordingly brought along about a ream of membership blanks. No person present was able to better this suggestion, so it was voted forthwith that we individually should do what we could in that direction. The vote was unanimous, even Mrs. Jones taking a few blanks, although she kept shaking her head and mumbling the old refrain.




As the meeting was about to adjourn, I was startled by hearing one of the ladies say, "Er, please tell me—when I do see somebody beating a horse—just what can I do about it?" Whereupon the others, except Mrs. Tate who had lived in New York and knew her citizenship rights better than the rest of us, gathered around me for the answer. Evidently humane education, like charity, should begin at home. So the meeting had a little epilogue, in which I was able to tell four ladies the S.P.C.A. recommendations, which every person in this country would be better for knowing. First, then, as to the horse. If there is a policeman near, call him. If not, get the license number on the side of the wagon and report it to the nearest S.P.C.A. agent. If the horse is saddled and there is no wagon, do your best to identify the rider. This routine of calling a policeman or securing identification applies to all other instances of cruelty, such as the running of horses on the highway, the working of incapacitated horses or other beasts of burden and overloading them, the mutilation of any animals, large or small, and the improper shipment of dumb creatures by land or by water. For court purposes a careful record should be made of the facts which occurred, including conversation relating thereto, the time and place, the names and addresses of the persons concerned, when it is possible to obtain these items, and the names and addresses of witnesses. If you cannot do all this, do as much as you can. Not all the states are blessed with the humane provisions which are made by law in New York State, but most of them have



enacted enough legislation to cover the salient points concerning the offenses mentioned plus penalties for instigating fights between birds or animals or being party to any phase of such viciousness, failing to provide food for animals in one's possession, abandoning, poisoning, or attempting to poison, and other matters of especial interest in places where conditions vary. Some of the offenses just mentioned were to occur presently in our own experience. One other question which was presented on this same occasion deserves a place in the record, for it inevitably arises early in the career of every worker for animals. "What shall I do when I see an injured animal?" Make every reasonable effort to render first aid, of course, and to place the sufferer where it will have protection and care. In reality, this seemingly obvious duty is not so obvious after all, for most animals succeed in hiding even their grievous injuries. They are all game to the last. Hurts that become known are usually mortal ones, the struggle seen is the death agony, and all the humane witness can do is to ease the passing. When you see an injured animal, therefore, it is usually necessary to call an officer to speed a merciful bullet, and it is his duty to respond. God grant that he knows how to handle his revolver. T o o often he makes a mess of it and has to expend, not one bullet, but sometimes four or five, if, indeed, he finishes the job at all. If no officer is available, try to place the animal in a shelter of some kind until a policeman or an authorized humane agent can be summoned. There are complications. If the injured animal is a horse, of course he cannot voluntarily leave his shafts in obedience to the call of his noble nature to nurse his wounds in some safe retreat. And his wounds are likely to be hidden from



casual eyes by cleverly arranged collars, pads, and bits of body harness, which have a devilish fashion of sticking fast to ugly sores beneath them. These, however, are not the complications to which 1 refer. I am thinking, rather, of the legal difficulties in the way of destroying someone else's property. For even an officer of the law to kill so economically valuable a creature as a horse is a serious act well to be weighed in advance. Naturally, since these questions and answers were afterthoughts on this occasion, there was no time in which to amplify them; but as few as they were, they rounded out what seemed to us then, in our enthusiasm, a highly satisfactory afternoon. Looking back now, I see that afternoon as pitifully lacking in accomplishment, and yet there certainly was something worth while in getting wound up, so to speak, for action to follow. F A I N T HEARTS BE GONEl

Probably I was not alone that evening in reflecting upon what had transpired. At the same time I probably recalled the details in a more uncompromising spirit than did the others, for among those details I remembered with strong disapproval that when Mrs. Tate and I had referred to mortally wounded animals in their "death agonies" and to horse blankets which stick to open wounds, two or three of the ladies present had shuddered—one of them growing very pale, and another mumuring, "O dear, dear—I never should be able to touch an animal like that!" Well, if the animal has to be relieved, somebody must touch it. When the sight of blood in an injured animal first made me feel faint and like running away, I said to myself: "See here. Brace yourself up. This is no time for



hysteria!" And in some emergencies I have literally driven myself to do the distasteful things which probably no one else present would have attempted. I did not like to do them one whit more than anybody else. There is nobody who hates to be made conspicuous in public more than I do. But when there is suffering to be alleviated, I am so disciplined that if I am to indulge in an emotional outburst I postpone it until afterward. Lola Vokes was one of those who shuddered, but she was too game to say anything. Even Lola has won out now, and there is an incident to prove it. Not so long ago, when we were driving together on a shopping expedition, in the near-by city, we saw a crowd gathered on the sidewalk. As usual, my instinct told me at once that an animal was in trouble. I alighted, and sure enough, the generous, sportsmanlike, big-hearted crowd was being amused by a cat which was playing with a mouse. What infuriated me was that a policeman was one of the best-entertained spectators. "Why don't you do something?" I demanded of him. "If you want it to die, kill it and get it over with, but don't torture it." His reply was a grin. By this time the cat had the mouse in its teeth, so I went over, opened the cat's jaws and took up the victim. T h e poor little chap chanced not to be injured, so I put him down and headed him for safety. With all apparently right, I then went into a store. When I came out again I found to my dismay that some idler in the crowd had recaptured the mouse and had given it again to the cat. Puss was up to her old tricks of playing with it, and this time the mouse was badly hurt. I returned to the car where Lola was waiting, intending to get the bottle of chloroform that I always carried there for emergencies. Suddenly it occurred to me that the policeman



might be more impressed by seeing another woman on h u m a n e duty, and on the impulse of the moment I thrust the bottle and a handkerchief into Lola's hands, saying, " G o over and put that mouse out of its misery." L o l a gasped. But she obeyed like a soldier. Ordinarily as afraid of a mouse as of a boa constrictor, she picked u p the trembling little creature and thrust his nose into the saturated handkerchief. T h e policeman gruffly muttered something about the S.P.C.A. and dispersed the crowd, while Lola hurried back with the mouse and we


h i m in the privacy of the sedan. I have described this incident at length just to show that women, while they may be physically more high-strung than men, can fight down fear as well as anyone and be the stronger for having conquered it. As to mice, I d o not want them or any other vermin around the house, and I catch them in humane traps; but I do not torture them. UP AND DOING

In The Pirates of Penzance

there is a policemen's chorus

which sings over and over again with great force and melody, " W e go—we go—we g o l " and nobody notices how silly it is until one of the other characters steps u p and says, " W e l l , why don't you?" W e did not want that to happen to our newly born society. W e had been singing in the same way during this whole afternoon, and now the time had come to take action. Indeed, we could not have delayed if we had wanted to, for, as though to challenge us, an exceptional number of stray and injured animals was crossing my path and being brought to me. O u r first official duty obviously was to canvass for members and thus raise the money for the field agent. T h a t



was not pleasant at all. It meant telephoning to all my new local friends first and having most of them respond in a manner which unmistakably implied that they were contributing for me rather than because they cared about my alleged hobby. I called them first because I wanted time in which to muster up courage to go from door to door along with the army of small salesmen who are so touchingly concerned in the housewife's comfort. T h e housewife would slam the door in my face, too. I knew she would. Well, of course, fears are almost always worse than experience. I never did go "from door to door." Nevertheless, I called on a few carefully-selected persons in my immediate neighborhood—all strangers to me. Those who were at home the first day received me well enough, with the exception of one woman who told me airily at first that she was sorry but that she had no change. I replied that I had not come for change—that I merely wanted to leave a membership blank for her to fill out and send with her check to the parent society. She corrected her manner at once and invited me to be seated. I accepted, because by that time I felt that she was one more person who needed humane education. What I told her about the need of the work must have impressed her, because subsequently she proved to be our friend in divers practical ways. In one household, which I remember with especial gratitude because their cordiality meant so much to me just then, a membership was taken out for every person in the family, including the children. I think I spent one whole afternoon with them, and it heartened me greatly. T w o wealthy maiden ladies in a grand old homestead received my card, via the maid, and returned the subscription blank with word that they were "not interested." T h e



incident seems like one of those proofs of the hard hearts of the rich which Laura Jean Libby used to write about years ago, but I mention it here for a different reason— because it carries a sequel and a moral. Those same ladies were, in course of time, to prove stanch supporters of our little society. T h e trouble then was that they had so long been targets for the solicitors of organized charities, they would subscribe only to those vouched for by their friends. After their ears had been reached by someone in the trusted circle, they never failed us. It seemed that our likeliest prospect was a Broadway theatrical star who, at intervals between sojourns on the lakes of Maine and the beaches of Florida, lived on several acres overlooked by my own side window. This lady was so very fond of animals that her collection embraced, at one time or another, a dozen fine ponies, as many dogs of assorted valuable breeds, fancy poultry including pheasants, pigeons, ducks, geese and chickens, a couple of cows, several deer, a leopard, a bear, a buffalo, and even a baby elephant. It seemed not unreasonable to hope for some expression of her good will. But at her home also I was rebuffed. When I called on her it was reported that she was resting, and the astonished letter I then wrote her still remains unanswered. In this case there probably were extenuating circumstances, for players are notably humane and during their tours have done much to spread the message of mercy over the country. Mrs. Fiske, Irene Castle, Henrietta Crosman, Eva Le Gallienne, George Arliss, and William Gillette are outstanding, real names in a long roster of persons who would rather forget that Edward Alleyn, actor in Shakespeare's company and founder of Dulwich College, encouraged bear baiting.



But our canvass for members had rather meager results, and we were still a long way from our goal. This precipitate descent from a peak of hot enthusiasm to a low level of cold reality is, I find, a common characteristic of philanthropic endeavor. At the same time it is equally true that an ability to withstand extremes of temperature is a sign of good health. MONEY, MONEY, MONEY

T h e time-honored ways of raising money in American small towns are lemonade suppers, and the grab bag, rummage, and cake sales. In recent years, where church horror of the devil's markers has somewhat abated, the methods I have mentioned have been augmented by bridge parties. The game has progressed through stages of solitaire, casino, euchre, and Russian Bank, and, at the time of which I write, the transition to auction bridge in our village was sufficiently recent so that many ladies were still unskilled in the art and anxious to learn. Lola Vokes knew how to play, so she conceived the brilliant idea of raising money by teaching her friends. A few dollars, at the rate of fifty cents per lesson, came into the treasury that way. These particular dollars were subsequently spent, however, in buying some badly needed books on kindness to animals for the local public library. All this promotion, although not especially productive, was excellent training for us. Lola gave lessons in card playing, but we were astute enough to derive from her experience a lesson of another kind, namely, that the support of anybody was worth having, whether or not the person was interested in animals. T o depend on animal lovers alone was insufficient, and, moreover, was distinctly unfair, be-



cause what we were undertaking was a community service by which everybody benefited. Lola's pupils, with a few exceptions, were persons who had little interest in dumb creatures, who never thought of bottles of milk, steaks, and chops in terms of livestock, or of squab in a dove cote, or of summer furs as related to the agonies caused by steel traps. They were interested in learning to play bridge, and our major aim, just casually mentioned, was never thrust upon them. Nevertheless, the dollars they contributed had for us the same purchasing power as the dollars bestowed on us by loving hearts. Since we arrived at that very sensible conclusion we have always tended, in our campaigns for funds, to subordinate the be-kind-to-animals appeal to something in which the public is more interested. A t such times we seek the wherewithal to do; the educational part can come later. There is another angle, too, which any efficiency expert will see at a glance. T o couple the drive for funds with an unpalatable propaganda vastly increases the sales resistance. LET THEM EAT CAKE

T h e bridge table was to become a substantial ally, but the time for that was not yet ripe. So we turned next to the tried and true cake sale. Here I was on fairly secure ground. In my churchgoing family not only had I learned to sing most of the Methodist hymns and to observe the King's Daughters but also I had many times known the cruel disappointments of weak lemonade and the other "goodies" usually served at Sunday School sociables—disappointments, I should add, not confined to flavor but extended to price. Of course, when we came to round up cakes to sell, there was no dependable way to guarantee flavor; but we could



fix the prices. I made up my mind that no person should be overcharged or, as far as we could possibly predetermine, be made to feel imposed upon in any other way. I also assured myself that contrary to usual bazaar practice full change would be given cheerfully for excess sums taken in payment, and that the customer should not be confronted with a lot of petty, unanticipated bids for his pocketbook. In my opinion abuses of that sort have done more than anything else to discredit small-town charitable affairs in America. In a sense, our first cake sale was the cornerstone of our organization. It enabled us to go ahead; and similar enterprises, as legitimately conducted, may well serve to launch other small-town S.P.C.A.'s. One has only to read occasional articles in our great national magazines to realize that providing a salable product is much less than half of the work of prosperous business. I am assured that about five times the cost of producing the average commodity is required to sell it. This was certainly true of our cake sale. There was first the cost of production. Although we did not pay actual money for our cakes, we paid tremendously in time and effort, which, even from the housewife's standpoint, have money value, and whatever the sum, our selling effort was easily five times more. In effect our cake sale probably had many of the pitiful aspects common to such affairs, but in principle it was fairly sound. We began by arranging for the use of the room in the village building set aside for the Woman's Club. This could be ours for the afternoon provided we paid two dollars for janitress and lights. Next, we sent duplicate announcements of the event to the two local papers, where they were duly printed. With these matters settled, we be-



gan to gather cakes; that is, we began telephoning to ladies everywhere in the village to bake something for us for the scheduled date. T h e list of names was made up primarily of those who had dogs and cats, which fact was at that time accepted as presumptive evidence that the owners were fond of them. Meanwhile pressure was put upon my husband to make him letter us some posters. As a man will do in such circumstances, he took the quickest and easiest course, and in this case it worked out very well. His method deserves description. He brought home about a dozen sheets of black cardboard, each about 14 by 22 inches. Then he went through a convenient stack of women's magazines and cut out all the large colored pictures of pies and cakes he could find in the advertising pages and pasted them on the black cards. T h e accompanying lettering he roughed in with a simple watercolor preparation which is known to the stationers as "showcard white." The attractive window cards resulting were then turned over for display to the tradespeople patronized by members of our committee. Other ladies in the town, who had conducted cake sales for one cause or another, were destined to wonder just how we managed to make such a success of so hackneyed a device; but it all could be summed up in one word, industry. If there was any magic it was probably in our telephone formula, which ran about like this: "Would you be interested in making a cake for the S.P.C.A. cake sale to be held at the rooms of the Woman's Club on suchand-such a date? . . . No? Then perhaps you'd like to drop in for tea after the s a l e . . . . Then perhaps you'd like to buy a c a k e . . . . No? Then a dollar donation would help us greatly." High pressure salesmanship—I confess it.



Highhanded we were, perhaps, but then our situation was serious—in our eyes, rather desperate. It did not admit of much compromise. It was a calloused soul who could refuse us four times in a row like that, especially when I could remind her, when the occasion permitted, that we already had received promises from the socially important Mrs. So-and-So. T h e upshot was that we obtained many cakes and sold most of them before ever they were brought to the salesroom. Collections and delivery were attended to by the Girl Scouts, under Mrs. Roy's supervision—the youngsters being only too glad to have an opportunity to do the good deeds demanded by their magnificent order. Let me whisper, however, that I sneaked away one of the more tempting cakes and divided it among them as token of appreciation. So Mr. Cutler's salary was assured, and we were all at once a going concern.


Faith and Work cake sale answered another purpose beside guaranteeing the agent's salary. In several ways it told the public that we were shouldering the task of preventing cruelty to animals. In the first place, the mere announcement of the sale in the local newspapers called for an accompanying explanation of why it was being held. Possibly in the second place was the fact that each lady approached for a contribution received a first-hand account of the wherefore. And then we laid a deliberate trap for publicity by serving tea after the sale. Group a few ladies around a tea service and conversation will take care of itself. Of course we managed to have some humane literature—not too much—on the tea tables. THAT



Bear in mind, however, that this was our first real bid for public attention. Had the cake sale come later in our career, I should have opposed much talk on the premises about cruelty to animals. T h a t kind of conversation may be overdone. I mean that it may attain a character too allabsorbing for outsiders whose presence is only a gesture of good will. After all, as I pointed out before, the main intention of the usual benefit affair is to raise money, and there is no gain in scrutinizing too closely the motives for which contributions are made.

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When in later years we established our subsequent practice of holding an annual bridge and tea as our one and only public appeal for funds, I made it a duty to avoid referring to animals on the program, merely seeing to it that the patrons obtained their full money's worth in refreshments, prizes, and a good time. In our initial affair the stimulated conversation about animals was legitimate. We were starting a new enterprise, and there were plenty of topics for discussion; but usually I myself shy at baby talk about Ming-Toy's wondrous habit of turning thrice before he lies in his little quilted basket; about Pussy-Cat's insistence upon climbing into every opened cardboard box; and about how Dicky-Bird gathers bits of thread whenever he sees himself in the glass. In my case, I suppose, the annoyance is occasioned because such stories of familiar animal habits prove the tellers' lack of interest in any creatures but their own. For persons who are not interested in animals, but who nevertheless have the good grace to support a worthy cause, such small talk is tiresome and a little silly. After the cake sale had actually taken place, but while the patrons were still sipping their tea, the local newspapers were ready for another statement. This request was anticipated, and I had a statement all ready in duplicate for the reporters—ready, that is, save for the names of the ladies attending the tea. This list was promptly made up and slipped between the introduction and the names of the committee members. After this addition to all which had gone before, the community was pretty well informed about the launching of the local humane society. And then came the deluge. It was far more than we had bargained for.


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Our first customers, generally speaking, were not animal lovers. Quite the contrary. They wished to rid themselves of unwanted pets. Unwanted "stepchildren," rather, for these poor creatures were seldom pets in any fond sense. Cats and dogs were brought to us afoot and awheel and at all hours of the day and night. There was little question of "by your leave"—the animals just descended on us, for the most part without warning. If we happened to go to the front of the house, there we would find a mongrel dog shut in the vestibule; on the back steps would be left a burlap bag containing an aged cat too feeble to struggle; and once, returning home after an absence of several hours, we opened an old candy box standing on the broad rail of the front porch and found in it three unweaned kittens sent us with the compliments of an anonymous stranger living four towns up the river. If we happened to be in when our patrons called, and if we asked if they could not keep the animals until the agent's day of disposing of such cases, the explanation was either that they were leaving town, moving, or going away on a visit, or else that they did not want the family pet to be taken away when little Jenny or Junior was at home. I soon learned that I should not argue about it, because, if I made the inconvenience to me too apparent, the patron would take the animal away and drop it as fancy dictated. Moreover, he would usually drop it without even taking it out of the box. Of course in some instances the owners would keep the animals until the agent called for them; but that still left me with the really serious difficulty of trying to accommo-

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date the others. During more than one night the family tried to sleep with a whining, scratching dog in the cellar; three or four more-or-less harmonious cats playing tag in the kitchen; and a desperate case of some kind on a cushion in the guest room, where I could minister to it at hourly intervals. Naturally that sort of thing could not keep up indefinitely. Even if I wanted to make the necessary sacrifice, it was not exactly fair to demoralize the household; and besides, if my husband was to keep the household going, he had to have his rest. Do not gather from all this that my husband liked the situation or even pretended to like it. I soon reasoned him out of his resentment against the clamoring animals, because he was only too often an eyewitness of their pitiable condition; but he never has recovered fully from the cheeky impositions of some of those who availed themselves of our volunteer service. There was, for instance, the incident which started one morning at daybreak when the shrill staccato of the telephone brought him downstairs. "Is this the S.P.C.?" demanded a belligerent fellow at the other end of the line. Such persons seldom get the fourth initial because the letters do not mean anything to them. "Well," said Arthur, trying to be nice for my sake, "my wife is the head of the local Humane Society, if that's what you mean." T h e voice at the other end grunted an assent and then went on, "Send somebody at half-past ten to such-and-such an address to get a dog." "Is it your dog?" "Yes." "You can't keep it till Thursday?" "No." "Is the dog suffering?" "No. We just don't want the mutt around." T h e rest of that conversation is better unreported.


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It was determined to employ our agent, George Cutler, for Thursday afternoons. I do not recall exactly why Thursday was the especial choice. Probably Cutler's own convenience had much to do with it, for you will remember that with the exception of the half day per week which he gave to our work he had a full-time job to consider in the neighboring city. Yet Thursday has been a satisfactory day. I can think of many reasons why some other day might be better, but somehow they do not outbalance the arguments in favor of Thursday, which include the following: Thursday is the maid's day out; the housewife may be more sensible of the week's domestic burdens about then and likely to decide that she cannot bother with animals, too; she may be going out to dinner that evening and may have to chain up the dog knowing that its howling will annoy the neighbors; and unwanted kittens are born as frequently on Tuesdays and Wednesdays as they are on Fridays, Saturdays, Sundays, and Mondays. T h e reasons do not make sense, I know, but they all contributed to our decision to select Thursday for George Cutler, and I leave you to put the jig-saw puzzle together. When Cutler came to the village each Thursday afternoon, he first stopped at the local drug store for reports of cases requiring his attention. This was another arrangement of expediency. T h e elderly druggist had a young assistant, and the young assistant had a compassionate heart for anything stirring with the breath of life. Along with his many regular duties he had long found time to prescribe for the animal pets of the poor people who were his especial friends and even frequently to set broken bones.

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Yes, Frank Francis was a real asset, not only to us, but also to the community. He arranged to receive the requests for Cutler during the week. When anyone consulted him, he was understanding and kind. Nevertheless the plan did not work out. Frank's identity with the new work was not established. T o the public he was first and foremost the apothecary. I, on the other hand, was "the animal woman," and try as we would to make other arrangements, people persisted in telephoning their calls to me. Consequently Frank Francis resumed his old role of occasional helper, and I submitted to the ordeal of the telephone. When Cutler had obtained his list of calls to be made, he trudged around the village and rendered his services as best he could in such difficult circumstances. Here and there cases were dismissed with recommendations of simple remedies; animals hopelessly injured or incurably ill were humanely destroyed; minor offenders in cruelty were warned and threatened with prosecution; and small strays, to be impounded, were placed in boxes and carried by Cutler on the trolley car all the way to the near-by city. Our village had no pound, and the city did have. As to the trolley car, Cutler had at that time no other way to travel. However, he did have a kind of relief under pressure, for when Mrs. Victor, one of our stanch friends, had accumulated ten stray dogs in three or four days, the city dog catcher made a special trip in his car to pick them up. As far as possible we kept each day's cases sufficient unto the day. T h a t narrowed Cutler's work, and it increased ours. T h e problem of disposal was especially difficult. When animals came to me from eight or nine places where they could not be permitted to remain until Cutler's next visit, my household machinery became so much disordered that


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drastic measures were necessary. Above all, immediate attention had to be given to cases of hopeless agony, which could not await Cutler's appearance. T h a t problem was solved temporarily by building a lethal chamber in our cellar. In the laundry end of the cellar was a gas connection with a flexible rubber hose which we joined to a heavy wooden box, which could be dropped over the victim. I know very well indeed that there are conflicting opinions on the merits of illuminating gas as a lethal agent. A t the same time I have carefully watched many animals as they succumbed to its influence, and I am satisfied that when it is intelligently administered it is about as satisfactory as any other convenient means of humane destruction of small animals. But to use it intelligently one must allay the fear of the victim by giving light through a glass-covered opening and admitting some air with the gas to avoid strangulation. T h e hospital anesthetist does that much for human beings when he administers ether. There are many expedients for humane destruction; and there are even times when even a stout club is the proper instrument of mercy, as when trappers without firearms visit their lines in remote areas. Frequently injured animals found along the road are put to sleep merely by confining them in a place connected with an automobile exhaust. Indeed, the use of that insidious, descending gas called carbon monoxide, which an automobile engine throws off, has recently inspired some of the most humane devices. Chloroform is a reliable stand-by. W e use large quantities of it for animals too sick or injured to be sent to the regular death chamber. Long ago I found a drug called chloretone. Administered in capsules in amounts gauged by

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the approximate weight of the animal concerned, it quickly relieves pain and brings unconsciousness, at which point chloroform or gas carries on. T h e capsules could do it all, but they happen to be too expensive to be used unless gravely needed. Today I use similar capsules from a bottle labeled "pento-barbital" or "nebutal." But before following my example by using any of these, have a talk about the matter with your local veterinarian or druggist. T H E UNDERTAKING FINDS AN UNDERTAKER

There was also the equally disagreeable matter of disposing of the bodies. When a dead dog lies in the gutter, his removal becomes an immediate concern of public health, and the street cleaning department soon acts. Dead animals in my cellar obviously were not so strategically situated, and it was up to me to find the way to be rid of them. I found several methods. If I "put out" a suffering animal for someone who had loved it, I invoked that affection and urged that the body be buried on his own property; for surely he would not want it to be carried off by the ashman to the village dump. If the ashman was due the next day and the weather was not too warm, I sometimes wrapped the body in newspapers and sent it off with the house refuse. T h e ashmen did not like the job; but then, they could not have disliked it any more than I did, and it really was in their line of duty. T h e remaining alternative was to bury the body on our own property. We frequently resorted to this course, my husband acting as sexton before he went to business in the morning or after his return at night. Not wanting to cut up the lawn, he at first dug the graves in the flower beds. When they were fully occupied, he started to dig along the


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base of a hundred-foot hedge. Later we had occasion to dig in the flower beds for the more normal purpose of planting flowers. Inadvertently slipping the spade into one of the early graves, he discovered that the bones of the animals were virtually gone. Nature had quite completely done her work of converting dust unto dust. So the sexton returned to the beginning of the hundred-foot hedge and was relieved to find that he could start there all over again. T h e system worked well enough, but it resulted in one shock. A neighbor came over to see my husband one day and asked for a couple of dead cats to plant at the foot of an ailing rosebush. Do you who are giving attention to this text recoil at my callousness? T h e n know that I am relating these revolting facts with a purpose. I want you and all others who declare themselves friends of animals to know full well the nature of service in their behalf before you undertake it. With such clear understanding there will be later no serious discouragements to interrupt. And for you who have no intention of taking up the work and are just casually interested, I want you to know that this humane service is after all no trivial matter, so that in your consideration there will be none of that prejudice which so often blocks the extension of our service. If we had not steeled ourselves from the very outset to believe that our enterprise was for the good of the animals, we might have been utterly discouraged in the first few months. In popular conception we were just dog catchers. In general no one was much interested in why we were engaged in this distasteful work. If we were fools enough to go into it—well, this a free country and we were not hurting anybody but ourselves. Since we were operating

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in this way, we became a convenience for those who "didn't want the mutt around" but until then had not known of an easy way to get rid of him. How simple it was just to pick up the telephone, call me, and say, "Come and get a dog." When that frame of mind was apparent, we never once failed to send for the dog. It was better to take the dog away from a master or a mistress who maintained such an attitude. It was cruelty to an animal to leave him there. Fortunately, it was not cruel to take him away, for nine times out of ten we were able to place him at once in another home where he would be cherished. I do not know that such happy coincidences would occur today; but at that time our village, in common with many other small communities throughout the country, was undergoing a profound social change, and we were opportunists. New highways were being built and land development companies were promoting many additional homes. T h e highways increased the traffic greatly, and the police were obliged to neglect the protection of property in favor of working the "stop and go" signals. Evil strangers came to town and found vigilance relaxed. Burglaries multiplied. Householders were alarmed; and, being forbidden to keep firearms, they resorted to watchdogs, which we almost invariably happily provided. At first thought one might suppose that this situation favored the larger dogs. But not so. A watchdog is not necessarily chosen these days for his weight, muscle, and eternal suspicion. Nor is it now as desirable to keep a vicious dog as it used to be, for a vicious dog does not always discriminate between his enemies and his friends. He may make a mistake and bury his fangs in the visiting brother-in-law


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or in the landlord, in which case his owner may become involved in a lawsuit. No, with electric lights and especially telephones to protect us against intruders, all we really need is an alarm, and a yapping Pomeranian may give us that. For this reason it came about that during our first year we saved from the pound no less than sixty dogs which had been condemned to death. Many others, of course, were merely moved from their original homes to new ones. But while "business" of this sort was brisk, we knew that our trade would one day reach a saturation point, so we worked over each case to make sure that once the dog was placed he would stay put. We studied his disposition, as far as we were able to do so at short notice, and warned the new owner of symptoms of any traits to which he might object later. Of course we always tried to place the dog in an appropriate home. If cowardly children had teased him into a snappy disposition, we sought a household where he would have a sense of peace; if he loved children—as most animals do when children play fair—he was sent where he could develop that virtue. No pet-shop owner ever worked with more earnestness to prove the attractiveness of his salable animals than we did. We bathed and combed the dogs, routed their fleas, healed their cuts and bruises, and called attention to their intelligent eyes, silken ears, and other handsome points. I confess now that perhaps I stirred a pride of ownership now and then with enthusiasms which were a little extravagant, particularly when the handsome points were handsome only when considered separately in connection with the several breeds from which the dog sprang. At the same time, I insist that my overselling (we did not really sell these dogs, you

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understand, we gave them away in return for good references) was in a good cause and harmed nobody. And besides, frequently the mongrel is the best natured, the most intelligent, the most devoted, and the most courageous. On those last-named points there is not much difference of opinion. T H E LOVE OF MIKE

In all the hurry and bustle of the coming and going of dogs there was Mike. Mike's family tree forked sharply just above his head to represent the chance meeting of an Airedale and a Sealyham. His hair was matted and tangled. He was not a young dog. But in the pound, where we first discovered him, he demonstrated an ample fund of patience and good nature, even when other dogs in the close quarters tried to worry him. He had been there three weeks; not for misbehavior, but because no one had claimed him. He wore no identifying mark. But he had eyes which were remarkable for a sad wistfulness and which looked straight into the depths of the stoniest heart. With just a little imagination one could suppose that those eyes had seen more than their share of tragedy. I made up my mind that a special effort should be made to find this poor fellow a home. We washed him, tied a most bewitching bow about his neck, and put him at the head of our list for adoption. His eyes remained sad, but he showed his gratitude by licking our hands and wagging his stubby little tail. We placed him successively in three different homes, and each time he stayed three or four days and then came back to the pound. He was too old, he was no watchdog, he was just a mutt. T h e death sentence was reluctantly pro-


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nounced, and then the whole situation became too much for Lola. She took Mike for her very own. T h e first thing he did for her was nearly to wreck her living-room, among other depredations pulling down three pairs of curtains. In desperation Lola called me for advice. "Bring him to the 'phone," I said. She did so, and I spoke to him, scolding him for what he had done. He recognized my voice, and whether or not it was recalling the first kind voice he had heard in those weeks at the pound, he obeyed it now and settled down, becoming a model dog forever after. If ever there was a dog which lived on the fat of the land for the next ten years, that dog was Mike. On the fat of the land, did I say? He was the fat of the land, acquiring the general shape of a toy balloon, although he never lost what I later came to believe was the professional sadness of his mournful eyes. He died peacefully of old age, amid a deluge of tears from those who loved him. Whether or not there is any question about how one finds a home for a stray dog, the subject is at least fitting to succeed the story of the life, adventures, and death of Mike. A t the present writing, when most of the countryside knows that we operate a placing service for pets, that phase of the dog problem is not acute. W e have a waiting list of persons who want dogs, and the size of it is fairly constant, save that it swells hugely just before Christmas, when Santa requires a pup to tie under each Yuletide tree to welcome Junior. In that early period the matching of home and dog was not a routine matter. A t first, we tried to think of those among our own friends who might need dogs, and then we concentrated our selling efforts on them. When the friends were supplied, we had them make recommendations to their

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friends; and after that we thought of those who most regretfully had had their dogs destroyed, assuming that they would be ready to open the family circle to new ones. When the available dogs were particularly worthy and we could not find homes for them in the ways mentioned, we advertised in the local weekly newspaper. W e became known for that good work. If we could find homes for dogs, why not for cats? Why not, indeed? Well, we did find firesides for a great many felines, and by substantially the same methods. But then most homes were already supplied. One may adopt a cat with less ceremony than a dog. For one thing, it is not necessary to buy a license. I was not counting on home-staking a goat, yet one was submitted, its owner declaring that he could keep it no longer. I found a person willing to accept it, but to my disgust I found also that we had been used to make a sale. T h e original owner wanted cash before he would give up poor Nanny. I do not expect ever to find myself in that situation again. Unless we are working under pressure, we usually try to make sure that a prospective owner is worthy of having an animal. W e endeavor to obtain the assurance of someone, a friend or a neighbor, that he or she is a reputable person; that the family does not go off on extended trips, leaving the cat and dog to shift for themselves; that the animal is not to be just a plaything for a lot of incorrigible children; that there are no animal haters next door to vent their spite on the new pet; that there is not a vicious dog in the vicinity to worry it; that the rush of traffic past the door has not a record for animal fatalities; and, anything else which occurs to us as likely to affect the


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well-being of the troubled little life which we are passing along. Naturally, we go about such investigations with as much tact as possible, but now and then the prospective owner hears about it. When he does and after he has recovered from the jolt to his self-esteem, he is likely to be amused at our taking so much trouble over an animal. But it is the fair and only thing to do. There is another side. We think of the new owner, too. We supply him with all the information we can give him concerning the extent of his responsibility. If there are any black marks on the animal's record, we disclose them at this time. We provide information about proper feeding and care. Above all, we elicit a promise that, if the probation period finishes unhappily, the animal will not be set adrift, but will be returned to us. On this basis we are generally sure at the start of a happy ending. We do not worry too much about the former owners. It is hard on the pets which have to be torn away from their old associations, but it is not often in the animal's best interest to urge the owner to reconsider. Reconsideration usually means only a postponement. The next time the owner makes up his mind to sever the ties, he hates to admit it to the S.P.C.A., and he probably finds a less happy means of disposal. No! We think it is better to take the animal the first time and not to scrutinize the owner's excuses too closely. Explanations may be reasonable enough: that the head of the family has died and the home has been broken up; that the wife has gone home to mother; that business is calling the whole family to Timbuctoo. More often the reasons are of the sort that we could refute very well if we

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were so disposed—that the old cat is losing her teeth and cannot catch mice any more; that the allegedly healthy dog is so sick that it would be cruel to keep him any longer; that there is a baby coming and the parents are afraid that the cat will jump up into the crib "and suck the child's breath," and so on through the long list of hackneyed, transparent, and unworthy excuses which any worker in this field will recognize out of her own experience. We do not question them because there is no mistaking the essential, main fact that the owner does not want the dog or cat or bird or what-have-you any longer. NEW FRIENDS, NEW PROBLEMS

It interested me to see, in those early days of our fledgling organization, how rapidly the word spread that here was a place dispensing advice about animals. Few persons knew or seemed anxious to learn how we were constituted and how we functioned. The basic consideration was that our little group was a solution for animal problems. T h a t fact had penetrated even the densest local understanding. In my opinion, that was progress. Remember that what we were doing then was for the sake of the animals—not for the people. But it is a little disconcerting to hold public confidence so completely that when you visit a home where there is a dog suspected of rabies the wife says to the husband: "Don't touch the dog, Tony. Let the lady do it." I think that my first intimation that humane problems are seasonal came in this period. Until then I had been unable to view and to compare so many varied animal troubles in a short time. Now, however, I began to realize that in the spring I might expect the manifold tragedies of bird life, and a greater number of stray dogs, which,


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exhilarated by awakening Nature, had run away from home. In the summer there were blinded bird victims of owls and hawks; the "mad dog" hysterias; the animals abandoned by families on vacation; and canaries perishing miserably in their gilded prisons. In the autumn there were the maimed and dying left by the hunters along their trails. And, in the winter, there were the victims of the accursed traps, the horses struggling on icy hills, and abandoned cats, trying to eke out their bitter living in the snow. This is not to say, of course, that the seasons brought no other cases than these specified groups. Even the climate and the character of the country will not serve to classify humane problems. Not so long ago I picked up an abandoned baby alligator in a New York street, believe it or not, only to learn when I turned it over to the Animal Shelter there that alligators such as this, brought from Florida as souvenirs, are frequent subjects of humane attention. New York also has maverick cattle on a rampage now and then, escaped, poor things, from the slaughter houses along Tenth Avenue. If I rejoiced in the consciousness of worth-while service, my husband did not always find it an unmixed blessing. After his altruistic convictions had broken down, his affection for me was put to the test more than once, but I am glad to say that he came through nobly. One hot, dusty afternoon when he was doing a troublesome bit of office work at home and was for some reason or other alone in the house, a well-meaning old German came some two miles afoot over the back roads, carrying a big old tomcat in a box. He rang the bell, and my husband, interrupted in the midst of an important thought, no doubt, answered. The visitor's cat was thirteen or fifteen or sixteen years of

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age and suffering the inevitable breakup of his once splendid faculties. His master could not endure seeing poor Tommy's agony, and he had heard that I might show him the way to a merciful end. My husband choked back his annoyance and made the crucial decision. He led the old man with his cat in the box down to the cellar, opened the improvised lethal chamber, and performed his first humane execution. T h e old fellow, wiping his eyes at the parting, reclaimed the body that he might bury it tenderly in his own garden, offering finally to pay for the gas. My husband's refusal of this was accompanied by what I understand was an eloquent explanation of the work of the S.P.C.A. After that proof of devotion I knew that he must be one of us. Now that I think of it, I should have given him an S.P.C.A. button when I came home. It was just an oversight that I did not. Since I realize at this moment that I have not yet given him one, I will remedy the omission at once. A t about this time a neighbor was instrumental in bringing me one of my earliest champions, the elderly superintendent of a large suburban cemetery, a mile or so away. T h e superintendent had a couple of aged cats to be put to sleep; and soon after I had disposed of them for him, he began to send choice flowers for my living room and rare plants for my garden. His devotion continued for five or six years, until the old gentleman suddenly died. Disrespectful imaginations will couple the flowers and the cemetery, but they will be wrong. His blossoms came directly from a florist, as though to assure me of their proper origin; and when we had a public affair for the S.P.C.A., he turned our rooms into veritable bowers. Nor was his appreciation confined to flowers. T h e super-


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intendent was always ready to lend his men to our service or to execute especial missions himself; while on many occasions he stopped at our house on his way to the village and gave us advice which, since he had once been a police captain in New York City, proved of great value. I had begun to need counsel of the kind which he could give. W e had our usual variety of applications: from the owner of a dog which had run a nail through its foot; from someone who had found a cat starving, hopelessly caught on a freshly tarred roof; from someone whose pet songbird had been attacked in the night by a rat; and there were requests to attend to other what may be called "natural" misfortunes of that kind. But now there were coming into evidence more sinister acts—the cowardly deliberate acts of human enemies of animals. Not that there were more such cases than usual, but because of the expanding circle of those who were hearing of us and our work, we were being told of many cases in addition to those which came under our own personal observation. There was a cat found tied to a tree in the woods, dying of exposure and starvation, probably placed there by a miscreant who was tired of having the unwanted cat come back. There was the man who "got even" with his neighbor for some trivial offense by wringing the necks of the neighbor's pigeons. And there were the not infrequent instances of the feeding to unsuspecting animals of poison and powdered glass.


Making It Legal to trouble me, as I said earlier, that some day I might have to hale someone to court for abusing an animal, and that leads me to the amazing confession that after more than a dozen years of conducting a humane society, I am able to point to only one experience of that sort. T h e reason? Why, simply that I have become slower to find provocation. I T USED


Before going into my excuses, let me dispose in a few words of that single instance in my history when I haled a man to court. T h e circumstances were these: In a village about five miles distant from our own community, resided a man who owned a horse which had outlived its usefulness. He, therefore, arranged with a local truckman to remove the animal to the nearest pound for humane destruction. T h e truckman, on his way to fulfil this mission, carried the horse into our village and had very nearly reached the city line on the other side when the horse fell from the truck, rolled down a steep embankment and landed helplessly in a brook. Apparently the truckman made no effort to rescue him, for the poor old creature was found floundering in the brook next morning. Mrs. Fadden, who lived in the vicinity, reported the case, and I communicated at once with our agent. Cutler re-


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sponded promptly, managed to lead the horse up to the roadside, and there ended its unhappy existence with a merciful bullet. Thanks to Mrs. Fadden we then obtained our only clues. T h e day before she had seen a truck pass her door carrying a horse answering the description of the animal which had been found in the brook. T h e truck bore an Elmsford address and was driven by a Negro. This meager information was relayed to T h e American S.P.C.A. in New York City, and that organization at once assigned its efficient field officer—Mr. Howard by actual name—to the case. He went to Elmsford, quickly found the guilty man, and brought him to our village court. T h e presiding justice of the peace, apprised by Mr. Howard of the laws involved, fined the defendant twenty-five dollars. T h a t was five dollars more than he had been paid to deliver the horse to the pound in the first place. There was a sequel. Our village clerk, notified that there was a dead horse just a little on our side of the village boundary and having heard some of the circumstances, complained bitterly because Cutler had not taken the animal across the line into the next community before shooting it, thereby imposing on another corporation the expense of taking it away. T h e story is especially worth telling just now, because it groups the major problems of humane work under the law. It shows an unmistakable act of cruelty, justifying the intervention of the local society; it reveals the importance of testimony by a competent witness; it illustrates the powerful backing of the parent humane organization, enlisted at precisely that point where it may carry on most effectively; it makes clear the availability of the statutes, under which prosecution may be made and punishment administered;

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it designates the penalty imposed; and, finally, it shows officialdom's usual lack of appreciation of humane service. These phases of the case correspond with the broad divisions of this present chapter. WITHIN THE LAW

When our little humane group began to function as a part of community life, its members necessarily—inasmuch as they were presuming to dictate certain phases of human behavior—had to consider the rights and privileges of citizenship. In other words, we had to make sure not only of our moral duty but of the extent of our own rights, as private persons, under the law. No matter how outraged one may be, in America one is permitted to interfere only so far in the life of his neighbor. T h a t is quite as it should be. Otherwise, this country would not be free. I attach importance to this because our humane cause is greatly handicapped by ill-advised persons who believe that a mild compassion for dumb beasts entitles them to threaten and abuse animal owners for mere semblance of cruelty. I do not like to hear a man swear at a horse any more than they do, but it would take more than that for me to demand his arrest and imprisonment. I have seen a dog roundly punished by its owner and approved it because the dog had just been guilty of a vicious and brutal attack. I myself have slapped a cat for continuing to sharpen its claws on my best living-room chair (while the rest of the family talked loudly about kindness to animals), and I have thrown convenient missiles at fighting sparrows which I could not separate otherwise. Persons who invoke the law or even declare the outrage to their sentiments for trivialities of this sort not only


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render themselves and the cause which represent


they profess to

but also, upon discovering that the

established S.P.C.A. will not support their indignation, become detractors of the work at every opportunity. Such an attitude is to be deplored, but there is little which may be done about it. W H E N ARREST IS A B S O L U T E L Y


T h e leaflet issued by T h e American S.P.C.A. to instruct citizens, members, and agents in their rights recorded in the Criminal Code, points out that a private person may arrest another if a crime has been committed or attempted in his presence or if the person arrested has committed a felony, even though not in his presence. T h e three modes of procedure are:

(1) arrest the offender;

(2) give


offender into the custody of a policeman, constable, or other officer; and (3) apprehend the accused under a summons or warrant. T h e leaflet goes on to urge, however, that the drastic course of arrest should be followed only in extreme cases in which the circumstances will permit of no other method, explaining that, "the Society seeks to be a corrective rather than a punitive agency, believing that greater



be accomplished



means." Here is an excellent place to distinguish between


two outstanding types of organization in the field of animal relief. Strictly speaking, there are two societies—the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals and the H u m a n e Society. Each is what its name implies. T h e former is essentially a policing group—to prevent cruelty; the latter is for the purpose of promoting animal welfare by improving conditions. T h e functions inevitably overlap. T h e regu-

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latory body, since it has more responsibility, may perhaps exert its helpful influence for the maintenance of a department of humane education; while the members of a humane society may invoke their powers as individual citizens to cause arrests. But the fact remains that the usual smalltown loosely-organized association for humane purposes has no right to prosecute as a body unless the grave privilege of prosecution has been specifically granted in its charter. In this narrower sense, our little S.P.C.A. has never been anything but a "humane society." Therefore, whenever we feel the necessity of concerted action in the courts against offenders, we properly turn to the actual S.P.C.A., whose duty it is to prosecute on justifiable grounds. T h e obvious question, then, as to why we call ourselves an S.P.C.A., has at least three answers. First, we called ourselves by that name before we clearly understood the distinction ourselves; second, the community at large better appreciates our service under the existing designation; and third, as far as our own careless public knows, we are, in fact as in effect, both a humane society and a branch of the S.P.C.A., for the S.P.C.A. responds promptly whenever it is needed and as readily as though we were actually part of that organization. T o this arrangement I subscribe wholeheartedly, basing my conviction that it is practicable on the pertinent facts of a long and intimate experience with cases in which arrest would have been technically justifiable but morally unsupported. There was the predicament of the horse in my immediate neighborhood, reported to me by a horrified humanitarian early in my career. A contractor was moving a house diagonally across the street, and the power he was using was


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a horse from whose flank five pounds of flesh had been removed by a veterinary surgeon the day before. Investigation convinced me that the contractor was more thoughtless than hardhearted. He had rented the horse from a stable in the near-by city, and he had been assured that if a bit of cheesecloth was used to keep off the flies it was in the interest of the horse's health to exercise him. He at once complied with my demand that the horse be returned to the stable, and I found that, for the moment, that was enough. Because he was so indignant for being made a scapegoat by the actual owner, he proved an excellent ally to the city humane society, which went after the stableman after I had reported the case. Some of the good sense of this attitude toward prosecution is frequently set forth by Mrs. Stella Erlich, well known founder of the Horse Aid Society, whose rest farm for animals, so valiantly maintained, is not far from where I live. "Suppose I have a man arrested in bitter cold weather for having no blanket on his horse," she says, "and I know that the reason is that he hasn't enough money even to buy food for his family. Surely there's nothing to be gained for the broad humane cause by imprisoning him or fining him or taking his horse away. T h a t would be just to deprive him of his livelihood, the means by which he can hope to do the right thing by the faithful creature which serves him. And as much as I love horses, if he takes his only money to feed his children, I can't blame him for obeying the first law of nature." I may add that Mrs. Erlich's way of saving a situation like that is not to arrest the offender, but to make him a present of a blanket instead, and perhaps to help him find a job beside. What I am getting at is that it is generally a good plan

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to study the circumstances before calling in the police. T h e point of view which results in cruelty needs education more than punishment. That is one thing. Another thing is that a thorough establishment of the merits of the case probably will insure success of possible prosecution, value of the case as a precedent, and public respect for that curious idea that an animal has rights and privileges. Please understand that I am not one who believes in handling outlaws with kid gloves. I am persuaded, however, that we S.P.C.A. folk attain our ends much more quickly and permanently by making friends. There are ways of referring to the police and of making friends with the outlaws at the same time. Frequently the proof of your right and the suggestion that the police are ready to cooperate are enough to end the case happily without further process of the law. Sometimes it becomes necessary to call the police, but an official visit need not be followed by arrest or even appearance in court. Study the operation of the police, notably in a small community where every resident is well known, and it will be observable very soon that the patrolman himself avoids making arrests unless he is forced to make them. It is part of his training to keep the peace; and then, too, there is such a thing as a suit for false arrest—an item which the S.P.C.A. worker, also, does well to bear in mind. If you are able to persuade some lawyer friend that this really is the view of your society, he may consent to be enrolled on the letterhead as the society's counsel. But do not be disappointed if he refuses. The post of counsel is subject to many abuses. And when he declines the formal place, do not be discouraged. He may consent to act in other capacities—drawing contracts, for instance.

72 C O M P L I M E N T S OF T H E

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T o indicate how this policeman philosophy works in practice, I may cite the affair of the Moreaus. They were an elderly couple living perhaps a quarter of a mile from my own home. They had a large, powerful dog, a mastiff, which had attained notoriety for its savage disposition. T h i s animal, never confined, muzzled, or kept on leash, developed a bloodthirsty interest in my own family pets and made frequent piratical raids upon them on our front lawn. I complained gently over the phone a few times, and, receiving defiance and some abuse, I asked the police to send an officer to the Moreaus to explain the law. T h e police obliged and also received some unprintable compliments. Nevertheless, it was apparent that the police did not want to force the issue, because Mr. Moreau was prominent in affairs of the veterans and in some of the taxpayers' meetings. So I called on the New York S.P.C.A. A day or two later Mr. Howard arrived and made the status of the Moreaus exceedingly plain to them, with the result that the dog was tied up and gave me no further trouble. But here begins the story. A few days after the visit of Mr. Howard I received a letter from Mrs. Moreau. It reeked with irony. It purported to be a complaint to our society about some "beautiful cats" which were on the roof of a back-yard shed and could not get down, and it demanded my immediate presence to succor them. It was, of course, a transparent and rather clumsy attempt to make our society appear ridiculous. At convenient intervals for a day or two I debated just

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how to answer the letter. Answer it I had to, for from the start we held the rule inviolable that all complaints must be noticed. At last I wrote to Mrs. Moreau, and my letter was to this effect: I would send the agent to rescue the fictitious felines, but my appreciation of her interest in behalf of the cats was second to my joy that our little adjustment regarding her dog had made her an ally in our humane work. I hailed her advent into our midst and took the opportunity to explain the actual character of our society. If her letter had dripped malice, my reply overflowed with honey and good will. We sent the agent several times to find the mysterious marooned cats. Of course Mrs. Moreau was never home, but that really was not important, because the Moreaus, in all the years which followed, never gave the S.P.C.A. the tiniest reason to think of them as enemies. And, praise be, seven years later, almost to the day, Mrs. Moreau telephoned to me to help her with a stray dog which she had taken in. I so highly esteem the making of friends for the S.P.C.A. that I regard every evidence of enmity as a proof of our own want of tact. TO SEE OR N O T TO SEE

Making an arrest, of course, is not just a matter of inclination. If it were, we would not have those expanding libraries of detective stories. But even granting that one cannot go out and collar a rascal on moral certainty alone, it is highly provoking to a seeker of justice to know all the incriminating facts and then not be able to do anything for lack of witnesses. If the New York police would have difficulty finding witnesses to a major crime committed in the midst of the


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crowd at high noon at 42c! Street and Broadway, how much more difficult it must be to obtain attestants to anything so relatively unimportant as a crime against an animal. In this fact alone one may almost invariably find the reason for the alleged inaction of the S.P.C.A. so frequently denounced in indignant letters to the metropolitan press. Why does not the S.P.C.A. do something! Forsooth, because the persons who are so righteously willing to adduce their facts for the papers loudly deny that same knowledge to the altruistic body, which would gladly prosecute if it had some little shreds of evidence with which to enter the courts. T o correct this situation I offer no remedy. I know of none. In the words of an eminent legislator, "it is a condition, not a theory." Persons will not be burdened with the nuisance of going to court to benefit somebody else, even if that somebody else is the maligned and long-suffering John W. Public. If you are starting or conducting a humane society of your own, you may corroborate what I say about this common attitude. T h e telephone rings. Mrs. Doe calling. Wants to report that her neighbor, Mrs. Atkins, does not feed her dog properly—"but don't mention me." Phone again. Mrs. Roe on the wire. Was over to the Robinsons' for dinner last evening and they had squirrel potpie—"but don't mention me." T H E SOFT-ANSWER


Such conversations are noted to illustrate that few persons are willing to be witnesses although many go out of their way to complain—provided, of course, that their identities are hidden and that the S.P.C.A. does what is popu-

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larly called "the dirty work." We could be immensely critical of this, but a critical attitude would not be in line with our policy of doing what we do primarily for the sake of the animals. Accordingly we welcome the complaints —which frequently are justifiable—assure the informers that we will not mention their names, if they want it that way, and do the investigating on our own, organized responsibility. Thereafter, perhaps, the telephone will ring, and this time it is the person against whom the complaint was made. Wants to know what we mean by having our agent call in regard to such preposterous charge. Offers to guess who the old meanie was who started it. A n d all that. But our technique to meet that situation has been perfected, too. "Here at the S.P.C.A.," I explain, "all complaints about animals are received and investigated in a routine manner. Our agent calls for the sole purpose of determining the status of the animals involved and is not interested in persons. As the complainant probably will summon the police if the S.P.C.A. does not act, we feel that you would rather have us adjust the matter quietly. Of course, you would. "Now, as to that dog of yours, I haven't our agent's report, and I don't know yet whether the dog is vicious, as the complaint says, or not. But if he does chase small animals belonging to the neighbors, it really is possible that he might hurt them. Dogs sometimes do such things, as you'd realize if you were here with me and could see some of the mangled little victims which are brought in. And then, of course, there's always the possibility that if your dog does injure something, you might be sued for it. For another thing, if he keeps on trespassing, some ogre of a


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neighbor may p u t out poison for him. So don't you think it might be better if you put a muzzle on him?" I will not go further with this conversation, because now you have the idea of how I receive the complaint, investigate the fact, and frequently keep peace in the community. It would be unfair not to admit that sometimes the witness's excuse for not being brought directly into the matter is valid. T h e nurse in a hospital, complaining of cruelty there, should not be obliged to jeopardize her position by appearing in person as a complainant. T h e wife of a local tradesman w h o depends much on public good will; the grocer's boy; the postman; the cleaning woman—all these are usually entitled to anonymity without explanation. T h e reasons, of course, cannot always be guessed. O n e day I sent the agent to talk with a woman who phoned me that she was ready and anxious to testify against a k n o w n hit-and-run motorist w h o had brutally killed a dog in her presence. Everything was ready to carry through, when, that evening, I received a phone call from her supposed husband, violently disclaiming that she had anything to say. T h e whole thing remained a mystery for about two months. T h e n a burst of scandal revealed that the m a n in the case was really married to another woman and wanted to keep this local relationship dark. Of course, it is frequently difficult to shield informants, but a confirmed policy of withholding names unless there is express permission to use them is in itself a convenient excuse while w e are handling individual cases. W e h a d this policy severely challenged recently, when a local resident, a teacher of commercial law, by the way, insisted


knowing w h o had charged his y o u n g son with shooting squirrels. O u r evidence had been complete before w e sent

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Cutler to investigate and warn the parents, but, as we refused to divulge the name of our informant, the teacher declared that he would not even question his son until he could also face him with his accuser. Something of the same sort might have been said for the squirrels; but they were dead, and being confronted with their murderer would have been only a theoretical step to justice. Anyway, the teacher vowed, in long, rhetorical periods, that he would not further help to support an organization having such an un-American policy as he declared our present one to be, and he announced, for crushing effect, that he was resigning from our society then and there. T h i s was, indeed, the climax. He was not even a member, and his wife, who was stepmother of the boy and ready enough to believe him capable of shooting the squirrels, called me up to apologize and to say that her own personal membership was to remain, whatever her husband did. She told him about his own lack of standing with us, too, and since then the valiant defender of American rights passes us with a hasty bow and a sheepish look. As far as unwilling witnesses are concerned, I very soon accepted refusal to cooperate as a fixed public state of mind and was grateful for even the meager help represented by the original complaint. I would send the agent to investigate, and if there was an injured party able to speak for himself, I would enlist that assistance; but after the first few times I never expected much. As I said before, it is understandable, too. Persons do not like, as a rule, to do even righteous things to offend the neighbors. I have had even ministers take that stand. It really is not comfortable to have enemies next door. T h e tradesman does not like to antagonize either his customers or the friends of


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his customers. T h e postman, the expressman, and the newspaper boy have their jobs to consider. W e all have our underlying reasons such as those. It is only human to put them above comparatively small satisfactions. W i t h all that definitely understood, let me confess here that I sometimes have difficulty understanding such excuses. T a k e , for instance, the time when a woman w h o had proved to me that she cared for animals told me that the man who lived next door to her had once pulled all the claws out of his cat with pincers because it had scratched the furniture and that the cat had died. She knew it at the time, and it had distressed her terribly. Yet she was so fearful of what he might do to her own animals if she told, that she said nothing. ANNOYING THE


Unfortunately, when it comes to matters as close to my heart as animal relief, I am frequently rash. I was especially so when our organization was young. As a result of forgetting that it is my duty as a private citizen not to annoy the government, I blocked for a considerable time the cooperation which we needed from the local authorities. Very early in my story I told you a little about how I threatened the village authorities with intervention of T h e American S.P.C.A. if they did not rest a lame horse on the team which drew the ash wagons. T h e y rested the horse, but not with good grace, insisting that a veterinary surgeon had told them that the animal needed exercise. Somewhat later our agent, Cutler, visited the municipal stables, examined the horse, found that it had lockjaw and was obliged to destroy it. For some reason or other this act gave particular umbrage to the village president. I have

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called him by several names, but for present purposes you may know him as Mr. Arnold. He was given the title of "mayor" later, when our population had grown. W e followed this lese majesty by notifying the ashmen of a complaint (which had come to us without sustaining witnesses, of course) that they were amusing themselves now and then at the village dump by pouring gasoline on mice, which they found in the refuse, and setting them afire. Exasperation was again expressed when I insisted on the restraint of a certain dog which was killing other animals and even terrorizing people throughout the village. It belonged to a powerful Polish bootlegger, a leader in the foreign section. In Prohibition days (I observe for the benefit of those who were at that time too young to remember) the authorities were usually loath to prosecute bootleggers. I protested several times to the police and to a judge of the local court, and when nothing was done about it, I demanded a warrant for the man's arrest. T h e order was evaded, but this time the dog was tied up—and, as that was after all what I wanted, I did not pursue that case further. T h e village horse situation, as you will notice, had become a source of irritation. It was not yet solved, either, although this next incident concerns, not a horse, but a mule—a handsome, faithful, upstanding fellow, who not only could do his stint alone but also could team up with one of the horses. In time the infirmities of age caught up with him, too. Cutler examined him and, after a few probationary periods, declared him unfit for service. A few days later the mule disappeared. We became suspicious and learned the worst. He had been sold to a dealer up the river. We trailed him thence and located him in the


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dealer's stable. T h e humane agent in that place was summoned, and next day the big white mule was mercifully awarded the long rest which he had so richly earned. No doubt it was just an accumulation of such annoyances which made the local president dislike me so. T h e time came when he needed something done for one of his own household animals, and rather than tell us about it, he sent for the agent of an adjoining village. When a Fourth of July parade was planned to include all the organizations in the village, he failed to invite us until pressure was brought to bear on him through friends, and then he sent a routine notice to a lesser member of our group, addressing her as the head of our organization as though he knew no better. On that occasion we were not especially well prepared for parading, but for the sake of setting a precedent we decked out Mrs. Victor's automobile with banners inscribed chiefly, " A Community Service—Not a Charity," and had Mrs. Victor's young son, Raymond, drive it in the procession, which he did proudly with his fine white Spitz dog on the seat beside him. T h e committee in charge put us at the end of the line, but no matter—we were in line. WE CALL FOR HELP

However, a citizen and her government cannot remain at swords' points forever. One needs the other. A n d if President Arnold could satisfy his need for the S.P.C.A. by going to the agent of another village, why we could meet our demands on government by dealing with some of the other individuals in it—the individual policemen, for instance. There were so many occasions when animals run over by automobiles and in mortal agony had to be dis-

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patched by an officer's merciful bullets. News of such tragic necessity would come in to us, and we would telephone the police booth in the heart of the village and then hurry to the scene ourselves to determine the best course to pursue. There was no motorcycle division of the police force, then, and when an officer was needed in a hurry, custom decreed that he should take a taxicab. In a few cases at our urgency an officer took a taxicab, and then, deciding that three or four trips just to help animals made shameless inroads on the taxpayers' money, the village clerk tried billing us for the cost. At first I was going to pay the trifling amount rather than argue the matter. Then I concluded that such concession would set a dangerous precedent, and I ignored the suggestion. T h e clerk did not try it again. As far as the two taxi services in the village were concerned, however, I had it pretty definitely understood that, at any time when their drivers saw an animal in distress I would gladly pay the passenger rate for having it brought to me. Many an act of mercy has been consummated through that system, and frequently a taxi driver has preferred to assume his share of the good deed without being paid for it. Such cooperation actually was not limited to the taxi services. Even our most casual contact with any group whatsoever was quite certain to bring the voluntary cooperation of some of its members. Probably after seeing that we were not as sentimental and eccentric as uninformed opinion held us to be, they wanted to be counted in on a few extra good marks toward heaven. The taxi drivers, the ladies of the Woman's Club, the active church groups, members of the Chamber of Commerce, the school children, the organized veterans, members of the Parent-


Making It Legal

Teachers Association, and all the other forces for social and economic improvement wittingly or unwittingly spread the word, and this helped unofficially to expand our undertaking. T h e y gave us, so to speak, a thousand eyes with which to detect opportunities for service; and probably not one of those groups realized it then or is conscious of it now. For example, the policemen as individuals, apart from wearing the insignia of the law, were mostly men of heart. As such, and if their superiors did not expressly forbid them to help us, they became stanch allies of the local society. W h e n their support became apparent to us, we were glad that we had not raised any open-and-shut issue with the village president and his trustees by demanding recognition and a complete definition of rights. You see, if we had declared war in that fashion, and if the president in his skeptical frame of mind had decided against us, the police would have had no choice but to follow their leader; and I assure you that such a calamity would have stunted our growth very badly, indeed. No, looking backward I am more certain than ever that we were wise to let the situation work itself out. O u r first formal request to the police was that they report all animal cases to us. T h e y did this with a will, largely because it relieved them of unpleasant work. It was true that they had to shoot an injured dog or cat now and then, but Cutler and our active members disposed of virtually every other job which in past times would have fallen to them. In the beginning the police found it a little difficult to draw the line between cases in their bailiwick and those which were in ours. For example, an indignant man tele-

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phoned to me one evening and hotly wanted to know, " W h o ' s going to pay for my pants?" I persuaded him to be more explicit, so he said that he had been passing a home on the village outskirts, when a dog belonging there had attacked him and completely ruined his trousers. H e had called the police, and the police had told him that as it was an animal case he could get the needed help only by calling the S.P.C.A. T h e big happening, which made the police realize that we were not just pretending to carry our share of the load, came during the first winter. A fine, full-grown stag made its desperate way across the ice-filled river from the woods on the other side and fell exhausted on a floe near shore. T h e police, aided and abetted by some enthusiastic factory workers along the waterfront, roped the terrified animal and brought him up Main Street to the village jail, the only convenient place of detention they knew.


astonishing news of a deer in prison came promptly to our ears, and we took charge. W e procured food for the animal and arranged with the Zoological Park, a dozen or so miles away, to adopt him; but before the Park's conveyance arrived for him next morning, the stag died in his cell. HUMANE


In such exciting

times the police

became better ac-

quainted with us. W e gave them official charts, obtained from the S.P.C.A., showing just how to shoot different animals which had to be humanely destroyed and pamphlets containing abstracts of the state laws relating to d u m b beasts. T h i s was practical help, and they appreciated it. T h e y found, too, that many an animal case, in which their participation might, for one reason or another, cost them


Making It Legal

their jobs, could be safely relayed to us with full assurance that we would carry through. T h e r e was Police Captain O'Donnell. I would like to use his real name, but men in his line prefer to leave the limelight to higher officials. H e never would stand seeing an animal abused, but the accomplishment which


his most notable service to us was his ability to shoot to kill with a single shot. W h e n it came to urgent need for an officer to put a merciful end to suffering, Captain O ' D o n n e l l could always turn the trick. More than one teamster with an overloaded horse received his just deserts from that officer, too. T h e n there was Dick L u n n . Until Officer L u n n developed rheumatism and had to retire from the force, there was no policeman readier to respond to a call for humane service. A n d there was Grogan,


enemy of the small boy with an air gun, which wreaks such havoc among our small animals. Y o u n g Walter O'Donnell, following in the footsteps of his father, the captain, had his conspicuous humane service officially recognized by us by being made an honorary member of the S.P.C.A. A good example of his numerous fine acts occurred when he was heading down our main thoroughfare on his motorcycle one recent winter's day, his mission, incidentally, being to relieve a stray dog.


chanced to see a burlap bag, fastened at the top, lying on the roadway. It showed signs of life within. Investigating, he found a poor old mother cat, blind and covered with mange. He brought her to me to be humanely destroyed. Nobody would have known about the circumstances, either, had I not inquired about them. Still another officer w h o has done notable work to help us is McKinstry, a fairly new member of the force. A t a

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fire, not so long ago, over at the sanitarium, he narrowly escaped injury when he fell through a floor of the stable in his successful effort to lead a horse to safety. A t another time, while off duty and in another town, he questioned two shabby boys leading an unusually beautiful collie, thereby regaining an animal which had been stolen from an orphanage in our own village. Several times, too, he has made private efforts to find homes for friendly little dogs otherwise doomed to die, bringing them on the handlebars of his motorcycle for me to see. I could go on down the roll and tell of splendid work done by Officers Jones, Flaherty, and Brannigan, but the main point is well established, I think—that the village police, as individuals, were then, as most of them are now, worthy friends of a good cause. Only one has ever refused to assist me as much as he could, and that was a new man, who would not help, on the ground that his job was "to protect property." Brannigan is now chief of the force, and convenient proof of his cooperation, beyond mere official courtesy, is his recent identification of eight out-of-town youths who were trapping regularly within the village limits. During all this time conditions were improving for us in various ways. T h e population was increasing rapidly because of the activities of the suburban land-development companies and in the best sense. T h e home owners who moved to our town were mostly reformed city dwellers, bringing their urban familiarity with S.P.C.A. work to the country with them, and their better understanding of what good village government should mean, tending to offset the mass voting habits of the large group of less intelligent factory workers. A couple of motorcycles had been added to the police equipment; Cutler's home society had been


Making It Legal

given an automobile animal ambulance, which now was at our disposal, too, on the half day each week when he served us; and my own car was running quite steadily as a volunteer contribution to the cause. W e began to feel a certain sense of power. W i t h it there was a budding determination to make the village authorities share the burden of humanitarian service, which it seemed then should have been wholly theirs anyway. W e were also vaguely annoyed that the village fathers seemed a little contemptuous of our high purposes. A HORSE F O R A B A L E O F


I refer to that time when three outworn horses were being walked from a town about twenty miles north to a city glue factory about twenty miles south, there to yield up their last ounce of value to mankind. Passing through our village, one of the poor creatures fell to the street exhausted. T h e owner of a local garage, with something more than sentimental gallantry toward these relics of an age when automobiles were not so common, telephoned me and I called Cutler. Cutler ordered the horses to be put up for the night and not to continue their journey until morning. Lacking other convenient shelter, the horses were taken to the village stables, where, it was alleged, they consumed a bale of municipal hay. T h i s last-named circumstance so







who, it seems, had charge of the hay, that the only way to pacify him was for the owner of the horses to give the likeliest of his animals in payment. T h i s extraordinary deal was consummated. T h e glue factory received only two horses, and the village gained one which served it thenceforward for several years.

Making It Legal


But the story of the village horses was drawing to a close. T h e day was arriving when they would be replaced by automobile trucks and tractors. At last it came. T h e two seventeen-year-old horses which had survived were put up for sale. For at least once we became unashamedly sentimental. We tried in vain to persuade public opinion that the village ought to pension them. We decided to try to buy them out of our hard-earned funds. Before asking the price we had them appraised by an expert from the American S.P.C.A. who set their top market value at thirty-five dollars apiece. A good friend, a lay member of the society, offered to pay this total, and we had her try to buy them as a private citizen at the stated figure. T h e authorities told her that they had been offered $ 1 2 0 by a city peddler. Perhaps so. At all events, we added the difference out of our treasury, and our benefactor paid the hundred and twenty for us. Buying a horse for a bale of hay evidently had gone out of fashion. T h e authorities expressed some qualms about surrendering the horses for a sum not exceeding a previous bid, but they finally salved their consciences by remembering that our lady proxy was a resident and a taxpayer. So the horses became ours, and we promptly issued to the press a statement to that effect. T h e authorities drew a long breath of surprise, and then declared themselves even more delighted to know that they had obliged a worthy local organization. So they told the editors, anyway. We had the horses loaded on a truck and sent off on a permanent vacation to a farm belonging to a codirector of the humane society in my old home town. We observed with warm approval that our village stableman shed honest tears at parting. Newspapers call this "human interest."


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It was not until the close of 1928, our sixth year of existence as a local Humane Society, that we obtained from the village authorities tangible proof of recognition. Our annual report, issued in June, had shown a total of 1,405 cases, 879 of which represented the humane destruction of unwanted, sick, or injured small animals. T h e grand total of cases, dating from the beginning of our organization, in the summer of 1922, to that time, was 4,296. T h e annual total was skyrocketing annually beyond the 320 cases reported for the first year; it was to go, as we had reason to believe, steadily upward. Although we conscientiously saw to it that the local newspapers received and printed the interesting details of our annual reports, apparently they had made no especial impression on the authorities. Now, however, the power of the press was to be superseded by the force of the spoken word. T h e change, whereby the old adage was carried a step further and the tongue was proved still mightier than the pen, was due almost entirely to Ada Brite. Until now you have not met Mrs. Brite. For several years, though, she had been a warm friend of our group, having had many fine humanitarian deeds to her credit. I became acquainted with her about 1925 through Lola Vokes. Ada had been one of those capable uniformed women who served so splendidly in the military cantonments during the World War. Her self-reliance, her fearlessness, and her knowledge of the right procedure, especially in political emergencies—all supplementing her deep sympathy with our work—made her a valuable recruit. She was no less

Making It Legal


valuable because she had a husband, Jim Brite, who also was fond of animals. Anyway, Ada and Jim were popular hands at bridge. One of the homes where they played frequently was that of Henry Burkan, a retired business man who was one of our village trustees. At every session Ada dinned our achievements into Burkan's ears. In the meantime I became friendly with Burkan's wife. She, while she had little or no interest in animals, possibly also relayed to her husband stories about the S.P.C.A. So presently it transpired that he became interested in spite of himself. His first official kindness to us was in arranging for the repair of a drinking trough which was much used, when it was running, by horses passing through the village. Early in September, in extending the thanks of our society to him for this, I was emboldened to ask that at some early meeting of the board he would propose the establishment of a village pound and gas tank for the humane destruction of small animals. My reasons were based on the urgency of the situation. I did not stress the simple justice of relieving a few private citizens of the work which the whole community should support, although the fact is that of the 879 animals humanely destroyed that year more than 300 had been "put out" either by Mrs. Tate or myself and that only two dozen executions could be credited to the police, Cutler having been responsible for the remainder. No! I cited, rather, the reasons which would necessarily be considered "practical" by the cold business men of the village. They were not interested in the animals we had placed in homes or in those we had helped to make well, but they were interested in those we had destroyed. Here, in

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their opinion, was a useful service. A n d you must not suppose that I am guessing at all this. T h e corporation lawyer, who served then as village counsel, once informed my husband


while awaiting the morning train, that he

would like to see every animal in the village of any sort whatsoever killed. T h i s was not said in anger; he was just stating—in the presence of our village president, incidentally—how he felt about it. I reminded Henry Burkan that the 879 animals which we had destroyed that year might all have been problems for the village had we not been there. I reminded him of the obligation of our incorporated village to maintain a pound under the state l a w s 1 and made it clear to him why we could not go on referring our strays to the pound maintained by the adjoining city at an expense to the citizens there. H e had his attention called to the fact that our county had been under quarantine for the preceding two years in an effort to wipe out rabies and that negligence in observing the quarantine might result in serious charges against the community. For a trump card I pointed to the fact that most of the outlying villages had




Mr. B u r k a n was convinced. He undertook to persuade his colleagues to the same view, beginning in that same month of September. Presently he was appointed a com1 T h a t is, if the village itself undertook to pick up strays. Article 7, of the New York State Agriculture and Markets Law (1922, chap. 49, as amended, sec. 114), specifies that, "Every dog seized shall be fed and cared for at the expense of the municipality until disposition thereof shall be made as herein provided."

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mittee of one to see the matter through, and on the 19th of December an enclosure, set back of the village jail, with a lethal chamber consisting of a heavy wooden box, was made available. Mr. Burkan had left it to us to say what we needed, asking only that we submit a plan that would prove as economical as possible. We naturally worked to deserve that confidence, and what we asked for was executed without change. T h e cost, if I remember correctly, was approximately forty dollars. As a matter of precise information, the lethal chamber was a heavy cypress box, about three feet square, with a hinged lid and a regulation gas pipe feeding in, low at one side. A feature was a glazed window about eighteen inches square, in the side of the box, it having been found that most of the fear and resistance on the part of doomed animals were due to darkness. T h e first two victims in the new box, a dog and a cat, gave no sign of struggle. But if we were building another box, I should want it to be a couple of feet longer, at least. T h e old one proved rather cramped for large dogs. T h e two keys to the box were given respectively to the police chief and to me. T h e chief's was on call for the patrolmen and for the street cleaning commissioner, while mine was for the use of Cutler and myself when police aid was not available. A couple of years later there was a small explosion near the outside room where the tank was located, due, it was said, to children playing with matches around some gasoline. T h e details are obscure, but it is possible that someone may have left the tank unlocked, although the circumstances were such that it could not have been one of us. Anyway, I found that the lock on the


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tank had been changed immediately and that no new was given to me. T h a t was quite all right, for there always an officer on duty to help us, and the changed cumstances threw the full responsibility for the use of tank on the village, where it belonged.

key was cirthe


Give a Dog a Bad Name THE "two-year" rabies quarantine in our county continued for approximately four more years, until about the summer of 1932. For public information on the dread subject, our State of New York made a short motion picture through its Department of Health, and in successive issues of its Health News printed grave statistics and pathetic photographs of mutilated children. There were occasional raids by special dog catchers, employed under provisions of the State Department of Farms and Markets. A n d at irregular intervals during the period there were newspaper statements by more or less authoritative persons, giving opinions and supposed facts. I tried very earnestly to digest this information and to do some research in my little animal library on obscure points. AUTHORITATIVE


T h e mad-dog situation was not precisely new to me. There were legends in our family, arising I know not how, that persons afflicted with rabies in the early years of the nineteenth century were put out of their misery by being suffocated with feather pillows. In my early home, before the World War, I had even had a rather terrifying experience with a supposedly rabid dog. I had picked up the animal, a large black and white setter, in the street. He had seemed to be suffering from


Give a Dog a Bad Name

some obstruction in his throat, so I brought him home for examination and possible relief. T a k i n g him downstairs to the laundry, where I maintained my S.P.C.A. clinic in those days, I opened his mouth and felt around inside to loosen what I imagined might be a wedged chicken bone. He stood for all this quite patiently. T h e chicken bone was not to be found. W h i l e I considered what next might be done, I put down some water for him to drink. H e dashed his face into it at once, but could not seem to swallow. Naturally I began to suspect the graver trouble, so I closed him in the laundry and sent for a veterinarian. W h e n the doctor arrived, the previously mild d o g went into paroxysms, continuing his fury until he was lassoed and finally destroyed. Subsequent laboratory examination reported the animal unquestionably mad, and recollecting the second stage of his behavior and certain extra symptoms which I now would look for, I am still willing to accept that diagnosis. T h e mad-dog problem, like any other apparently


governable menace, is always accompanied by mob hysteria and, in this country, at least, the unreasoning state of mind has resulted in much unwarranted suffering for animals. T h e period in August known as the " d o g days" by the ancient Romans because they were dominated by the D o g Star, Sirius, became in modern popular notion the official time when dogs were likeliest to go mad. Every poor bewildered p u p w h o ran himself into a lather to escape from sudden hostility of human beings and barked and snapped in sheer self-defense was clubbed and stoned to death. I was, of course, opposed to such a terrible end for any dog, mad or sane. Knowing that I could not hope to wipe out the panicky fear which made victims of harmless crea-

Give a Dog a Bad Name


tures, I felt that I could accomplish something by teaching people to distinguish the more precise symptoms of rabies, as set forth by the authorities, and telling them what to do when they recognized them. From this view there will be many dissenters, for according to one school of thought hydrophobia is considered a myth and a delusion; but I, myself, side with the doctors for the reason, at least, that the bulk of the population believes in it to the point of wanton cruelty. T h a t is concrete enough for me. Here the objectors will say that if the belief were abolished no cruelty could ensue. T o which I reply that the belief may be abolished more easily by first limiting it. OUT OF THE HISTORY BOOKS









whether there is such a scourge as rabies or not. Nevertheless, according to my present information, I believe that there is. T o convince me I have my own first-hand experience with several difficult cases not explainable to me on other grounds, my knowledge of what living authorities have had to say about cases in their own ken, and the recorded proofs that hydrophobia has been known


dreaded since the days of the ancient Greeks. Beginning his human vaccinations against rabies in 1885, the great French chemist, Louis Pasteur, took the first important step to allay public fears of this sort. H e also made possible the immunization of healthy animals against rabies infection. T h e way he experimented with animals to attain his result may not meet with unmixed favor, but there is no doubt that he was confronted by a grim situation calling for grim measures. H e not only showed the way to immunize dogs against rabies but also greatly reduced the


Give a Dog a Bad Name

mortality among chickens suffering from cholera and among cattle afflicted with anthrax. One other important demonstration of a way to stamp out rabies did not involve biological experimentation, although it evoked much protest from animal owners. This was the successful effort in England, beginning in 1897, to prevent spread of the disease by muzzling dogs in danger areas. By 1902, in consequence of rigid enforcement of this law, England was virtually freed from hydrophobia. It may be seen from all this that in the circumstances of our county rabies quarantine, which put all animals under suspicion, there were several points which might be stressed for their protection. T h e quarantine was, of course, primarily to safeguard the people; but, with a balanced interpretation of the facts, it was possible to care for both the human beings and the dumb creatures. Indeed, we felt strongly and with justification, I think, that to bring about such joint result was part of our moral responsibility as a humane organization. We had anticipated the quarantine for about a year before it was imposed. A number of fairly well-attested, but isolated, cases of rabies had been reported on the outskirts of the New York metropolitan area. About the middle of April, 1925, came the gravest case of all—the death of a fouryear-old boy in a town not more than ten miles distant, caused by the bite of a dog pronounced mad by competent examiners. The county League of Women Voters at once passed resolutions calling upon the State Health Department to enforce a quarantine, and the health officers of the area concerned promptly met to consider the advisability of such an emergency measure. A situation of this kind is not an occasion for too much irresponsible theorizing.

Give a Dog a Bad Name



For awhile we thought that we might forestall it in our community by arousing the people to the discomforts and annoyances which it would entail, not making too much, of course, of the fear element. We issued to the local papers, therefore, a statement calculated to point up the responsibility of our village authorities, while defining our own position. Remember that this was in 1925; we did not have a village pound until 1928. " T h e accompanying statement," we said on this occasion in 1925, "is partly to correct a mistaken idea in many quarters that it is the duty of the S.P.C.A. to round up strays and dispose of them or to take action in cases where vicious dogs have attacked and bitten persons in the village. As the name of the organization implies, it is run solely for the purposes of preventing cruelty to animals and relieving their suffering. We have made it our business to see what may be done to make dog owners restrain vicious animals, to round up strays and to dispose of them. Manifestly, allowing dogs, which are dangerous to persons as well as to inoffensive domestic animals, to roam at will about the village is a matter for police interference, but we have found that there is legal question of just how far the police may interfere. " W e went to the local justices who were entirely sympathetic but equally unsure of their legal precedents. We went to the heads of T h e American S.P.C.A. in New York, and there were informed that nothing could be done as long as this village had no ordinances under which offenders might be prosecuted. " T o correct this unfortunate condition, we undertook,


Give a Dog a Bad Name

as a civic duty, to obtain official information as to how these needed laws might be entered upon the local statute books. W e were informed by the New York State Department of Farms and Markets, the division which has charge of the licensing of dogs and other matters appertaining to them, of the existing state laws, and the steps by which this village may be made to benefit from them. " W e felt that we could add nothing to the state circular, and therefore gave a copy of it to a gentleman w h o had suffered from the depredations of a vicious dog here in town, that he might place it before the village trustees. T h e unofficial report which we received on this was that a local ordinance of the required sort was impossible because our village did not control the dog licenses. " I n the meantime the situation has become much aggravated. Children have been bitten. Many small animals have been literally torn to pieces by the predatory dogs which have run this past winter in packs. O n one of the streets at the upper end of the village there is reported a powerful dog so vicious that residents are obliged to go home around the block to avoid him. A well-known resident was unable to enter his own front door the other night, we were told, because a neighbor's dog disputed his right to do so. " T h e tragic affair in that nearby town has stirred a group of our residents of the M a n o r to meet in common, neighborly council, to decide upon some drastic measure to end this menace to their homes. As a result of the child's death, the State Department of Health has been petitioned to place and enforce a quarantine upon this county and the one to the north. If that action is taken, all dogs in the two counties will be required to be muzzled, and any ani-

Give a Dog a Bad Name


m a l r u n n i n g loose w i l l be p r o m p t l y shot b y a


c o n s t i t u t e d officer. " T h e Farms and Markets Circular—Number 268, Article 7 of the F a r m s a n d M a r k e t s L a w , C h a p t e r 4 8 , L a w s of 1 9 2 2 as amended—describes w h a t seem to b e measures f o r local relief if the v i l l a g e b o a r d w i l l o n l y act u p o n them. m o r e i m p o r t a n t sections are as follows:



Sec. 114. Any city or town or incorporated village may impose restrictions and limitations upon the keeping and running at large of dogs within such city or town, or village, and may enforce such restrictions and limitations by imposing penalties of not less than five dollars nor more than twentyfive dollars for each violation thereof, to be recovered in a civil action in the name of such town or city, or village. Sec. 125. Pounds and dog catchers. T h e board of supervisors or any county and any city, town, or village, as defined by section 106 hereof, may establish and maintain a pound or pounds therein, for the impounding of dogs under the provisions of this article. T h e board of supervisors of any county, the common council, board of aldermen, or the legislative body of whatever name known, of a city, the town board of a town, and the board of trustees of an incorporated village may also create the position of dog catcher, and appoint one or more persons thereto, to be removable at the pleasure of the board or body appointing him or them T h e expense of establishing and maintaining a pound or pounds and the compensation for such dog catchers shall be paid by the county treasurer from moneys received under this article, after claims for the same have been audited and ordered paid by the board of supervisors of the county. " I f f o r a n y reason it is impossible f o r the v i l l a g e to pass the p a r t i c u l a r ordinances or restrictions n a m e d in this cir1 T h e sections are quoted here as they existed at that time. At the date of this writing, Article 7 shows considerable revision and renumbering of sections, but the general sense of the extracts given remains unchanged.


Give a Dog a Bad Name

cular, then it is time for some other measures to be taken." INDIFFERENCE

Our announcement was pretty generally read, but, as we had rather expected, the authorities did nothing about it other than to say, unofficially, that they would look into the matter. The reason probably was that the trustees, as a body, shared the aforementioned feeling of the corporation counsel, which was expressed about this time, that all the animals in the village ought to be destroyed. It did not occur to him—or it may have been that he did not care about this, either—that our announcement in reality constituted a public warning, and that the village corporation itself might conceivably have been held liable for the consequences of its defiance. The same public apathy obtained generally throughout the suburban area, and the quarantine was presently imposed. If I remember correctly, the sun shone just as brightly the day after it came as on the day before. The trains ran, the grass grew, and nearly everybody had three good meals in twenty-four hours. Naturally, therefore, the new status of a quarantine was not taken very seriously. Comparatively little was done about it anywhere. Local officers have a chronic dislike of enforcing state laws, and the state departments, especially in matters of temporary statutes, are too limited in appropriations, as a rule, to do much about violations. Consequently, little but proclamaion characterized the first year or so of the quarantine. Still, the proclamation was quite thoroughly known, and our local authorities made a show of cooperation by declaring that all unmuzzled dogs would be shot by the police. This was not promoting the hysterical fear of rabies,

Give a Dog a Bad Name


which from our standpoint was most to be dreaded, so we used the police threat to ease ourselves still farther into the situation. As a matter of fact, our policemen were not anxious to start a slaughter of dogs, and the few animals which they did pick up were nearly all referred to us. That did not deter us, however, from telephoning friendly warnings of the declared intention of the police to chosen homes from which, we knew, the word would spread rapidly. One useful result was that the local hardware and stationery stores did a thriving business in muzzles for a few days. Our telephone alarm was worth while largely because very shortly thereafter special dog catchers, employed by the State Department of Farms and Markets, descended upon the village without warning and picked up quite a few pet dogs. There were not many strays, for we had cared for most of them. Those which were corralled were impounded at the county seat, being held there three days, during which owners might claim them at ten dollars apiece, and failing redemption, being destroyed. Even this would not have stirred the public, but these dog-catchers invaded dooryards and bore away the family pets. In one instance which I recall, the dog-catcher went onto the porch and took a dog which was fastened there on leash. Its owner was indignant, and our S.P.C.A. group was a little exercised about it, too. But the Department of Farms and Markets, through its New York City representative, explained the stern facts, that this was a time of quarantine in which the law stated that dogs should be muzzled even on the premises of the owner, and that confinement by a leash or a chain did not conform with the rules. In justice to the representative, however, it must be stated


Give a Dog a Bad Name

that, while making this point, ployed by the department had dog when tethered with a chain possible that in some instances exercise the best of judgment.

he said that no man embeen authorized to take a or leash, adding that it was the men employed did not

T h e quarantine had been imposed in April, 1925. Approximately one year later there had been reported no less than seven cases of rabid dogs in our village. New York, with 6,000,000 population, had had seventy-three; my home city, with 110,000 residents, had had forty-three. So it may be seen that the situation with regard to mad dogs in our village was relatively serious. T h e whole quarantine problem was intensively discussed by all S.P.C.A. groups in the area, and in June, 1926, at a meeting of the S.P.C.A. in the place where I had previously lived, and of the society of which I was a vice-president, the guest speaker was a lecturer on rabies, sent to us by one of the country's largest biological laboratories. T h e interest of the laboratory was avowedly to extend the market for its anti-rabic serums. T h e gentleman talked eloquently on this subject, which was of such extraordinary importance at that time, and we were all greatly impressed. I observed especially that he made very positive statements about phases of rabies about which I had never before seemed able to obtain precise information—among other things, just how long it takes for rabies to develop in a mad dog and after how long a time a bitten person may be considered safe from the dread infection. I felt that this was all useful material for the next step in our village campaign, and adding to it the facts which we had been able to find in the standard printed sources of such knowledge, we prepared another public statement. We wanted everybody to be well informed.

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You see, our initial published utterance in the emergency situation had been to point out ways and means of restraining quarrelsome dogs whose owners had encouraged their snapping, biting habits and permitted them to run at will throughout the village. T h e next stage of our program, now that all local laws on the subject had been subordinated to those of the quarantine, was to explain what to do when one had found a suspected dog. THE RABID DOG

T h e first act of the average person who is bitten by a dog, mad or sane, is to order the animal shot. This is generally a great mistake, we carefully explained, because the bullet commonly is fired through the head, which usually ruins the pathological evidence by which the presence or absence of rabies is determined in the public health laboratories. If the dog is violent and must be killed, have him shot through the heart or otherwise humanely destroyed, because the head must be preserved for examination by the proper authorities. It is much better, if possible, to tie the dog up for observation for ten to fourteen days in normal times or during the quarantine for the specified period of twenty-one days. For a dog which has been in contact with, or has been bitten by, a known rabid animal, the recommended observation period is ninety days. Meantime, any person who has been bitten should begin, with due medical supervision, the usual course of serum treatments. These may be discontinued at the end of the dog's probationary period, provided that there have been no untoward developments. T h e symptoms shown by the suspected dog need not necessarily be violent. There are two main forms of rabies


Give a Dog a Bad Name

—violent or "furious" rabies and dumb rabies. In the latter case the dog is rarely able to bite, for his lower jaw is paralyzed, meaning that he can neither eat nor drink. Moreover, his voice is lost. T h e danger lies in his saliva, which, if it comes into contact with any abrasion of the skin or any small unhealed wound or scratch, may transmit the dread disease. In violent rabies, on the other hand, the infected animal will try to bite anything it encounters. This kind of dog, on the rampage, has a peculiar hoarse bark. Thick strings of dark brown saliva (not all white froth as most persons suppose) hang from the mouth, and the stricken creature will try to eat many kinds of foreign matter—sticks, dirt, and so forth. It does not fear water, but will behave in a frenzied manner upon seeing water, for the simple reason that with its swollen, paralyzed throat, it is unable to drink. It is believed that rabies is primarily and originally a disease of the dog, but it seems to be communicable, chiefly through the saliva, transmitted by means of the bite or otherwise, to virtually all warm-blooded creatures. A mad cat, however, is almost unknown. A mad cow is occasionally found. There also have been rabid wolves, horses, pigs, skunks, and—don't forget—men. In other words, we made a case as clear as we could for the segregation of the suspected animal, for by this means only could we obtain for him a fighting chance for his life. Alas, however, that we had included in our statement, in good faith, the alleged new facts given by the lecturer from the biological company. These items were at once challenged by a member of the New York State Department of Health in a letter to one of the two local papers which had printed our own communication.

Give a Dog a Bad Name


As soon as the challenge appeared, I sent a copy of it, together with a clipping of our statement, to our original informant. T h e accompanying letter reminded him of what he had said, as recalled by most of the ladies who had heard him that night, and asked him to write his explanation directly to the newspaper. A week or so later I received his only rejoinder—not for the newspaper—which was that sometimes dogs die promptly from rabies and then sometimes they do not, and there were a couple of other yesand-then-again-no paragraphs which told me quite plainly that I had been victimized, intentionally or not, by a nottoo-particular salesman. We did not lose time waiting for that very lame answer. Days before it came we had embarked on the third phase of our campaign. This was to urge our local residents to have their unsuspected dogs immunized against rabies by simple inoculation. Again we endeavored to offer a practical recommendation, for we arranged at the same time to have a reputable veterinary surgeon come to the village for one day, prepared to do the work on a wholesale basis at seventy-five cents per dog. T h e inoculation, a simple, painless procedure, was said to protect the animal for one year, and a collar tag was given to note the period of immunization. T h e authorities permitted us to use the rear of the village stables for this purpose, and Cutler was assigned to help. All in all, I should say that the affair was a considerable success for a small place. About fifty dogs were inoculated and—to make the account complete—they suffered no ill effects. That accomplishment, you will observe, reduced the fear of rabies in our community, and this relaxed feeling was greatly increased when an adjoining village followed our


Give a Dog a Bad Name

example with a wholesale dog immunization of its own. T H E H I L L Y E R CASE

Just as the place was settling down to its old jog-trot existence and we were beginning to hope for the lifting of the quarantine, we received a fresh incitement to action. One of my neighbors, call her Mrs. Hillyer, a woman active in community welfare work, found her previously mild and affectionate pet dog acting strangely, and in tying it up she was bitten. She sent for me, and when I arrived, I found her pet displaying the alarming symptoms of eating earth and stones, biting at sticks presented to it, and uttering the unmistakable, shrill bark. In the meantime Cutler had appeared. His suspicions were the same as mine, so we decided that he should take the dog to the pound in the adjoining city—you will understand that we then had none of our own—while I notified the local health officer of what had happened. This functionary was Dr. Wyman, an elderly physician, residing in the village. He scouted the idea that the dog had rabies and made no effort to investigate, even when I told him that when Cutler had arrived with the dog at the pound, the veterinary of the S.P.C.A. had confirmed our opinion. Wyman did agree with me, however, that pending a report from a pathologist certifying to the dog's condition, Mrs. Hillyer might well begin the Pasteur treatment as a matter of precaution. Unhappily, the lady's financial circumstances were such that she could not then afford private treatment, so I informed her of the current regulation whereby the State Department of Health stood willing to supply the neces-

Give a Dog a Bad Name


sary serum free of charge to any health officer for administration to a patient unable to pay for it. With this information she applied to Dr. Wyman, but he declined point-blank to handle her case at public expense. Fortunately for Mrs. Hillyer, her husband was employed by the county hospital, and because of that connection he was able to obtain the necessary course of treatments for her without delay. T h e impounding of the dog was quite late in the afternoon, so we could not consult the Department of Health in the city where the pound was situated until next morning. When we did see the officials there and explain the circumstances to them, they quite reasonably said that they could not undertake the pathological examination of the dog for an outside community, principally because it was a matter of some expense and also because it was the affair of our local health officer. They advised, however, that there were laboratories in New York which would do the necessary work for a reasonable fee. We transmitted all this information to Dr. Wyman, who expressed further annoyance and took no action. Three days later the impounded dog died of his malady, whatever it was, showing his alarming symptoms to the last. Dr. Wyman was notified. Still no action. About forty-eight hours later, the poundmaster, finding that mortification of the body was setting in, buried it. Under ordinary circumstances they would have disposed of a dead dog in the city incinerating plant; but burial allowed for exhumation, if necessary. Dr. Wyman, who quite frankly expressed his feeling that we were interfering a little too much, was given this further news. You will notice that throughout the pro-


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ceedings our alleged interference was, at every stage, a mere preparation of the case. We always awaited his official word to proceed. HIGHER AUTHORITY

T h e whole business seemed like such an outrage upon public safety, especially in a time of quarantine, that I determined not to let it rest. Consequently I sent a letter of inquiry to the New York State Department of Health, relating briefly what had happened and asking these questions: Just what is supposed to be done with a rabid dog in these circumstances? W h o is responsible for him? What should be done with him when the village maintains no pound? Should the local health officer see to it that a suspected animal is confined until it is no longer suspected or until its death warrants pathological examination? Should he then see to it that an examination is made? Should he administer the serum treatment to any person bitten by the said dog? Should he charge for such treatment? Is not the serum furnished free to local authorities by the state department? In short, what are we, in this little village, to do in matters of this kind? T h e letter went forth on June 9. Days passed, and there was no answer. Then, one day, I learned that Dr. Wyman had visited Mrs. Hillyer to question her about the case, to order her peremptorily to disinfect her house and to lecture her severely upon her alleged carelessness. While I was wondering about this sudden official interest, word came that Dr. Wyman had dropped dead while visiting a patient. So we were worse off than ever. W e had had a rather indifferent local health officer; now we had none at all. On July 16 I received an illuminating letter. My com-

Give a Dog a Bad Name munication


to the state department had been referred

promptly to Dr. Fay, the traveling health officer for the county, but Dr. Fay, engaged in the urgent work of foll o w i n g some cases of smallpox, did not get around until July

15 to write to me. H e had, however, visited Dr.

VVyman and discussed the complaint with him. T h e letter had been calculated to soothe an overzealous woman with a freak hobby. H e had telephoned me June 14, it seemed, but I was not at home, and he did not leave his name nor any hint as to his business with me. W h e n he talked with Dr. W y m a n , that gentleman had declared that he had received no "official knowledge" of the case. He had searched the records in the Health Department of the city maintaining the p o u n d for documents relating to official examination of the Hillyer dog, and had found nothing (for the very obvious reason that no official examination had been made). T h e letter concluded with a plea not to be too hard on Dr. W y m a n , whose sudden death


shocked Dr. Fay greatly. W y m a n , he said, was acting as health officer out of the goodness of his heart, not for the absurdly small sum he received from the community for the work. T o o much should not be expected of a man under such circumstances. Answering Dr. Fay I made a point of sticking to business. I took u p his items seriatim,

along lines rather obvious to

the reader because I have explained them earlier in my narrative. I reminded h i m that there still remained unanswered the gist of my original questions, which asked to have defined what our community should do under the law when a dog suspected of rabies ran at large. M y concluding paragraph was a little more personal. "I can read what you say," I told Dr. Fay, "about the low re-


Give a Dog a Bad Name

numeration of the late Dr. Wyman as health officer of our village, with much sympathy, because our little S.P.C.A. has been carrying on for several years with no government remuneration at all and frequently with the directors out of pocket. W e have the additional difficulty of being denied many times even the cooperation of those village agencies which should be most grateful for our being. But, as even an underpaid health officer should do, we recognize the obligations of our job, and try to our utmost to live up to them." Dr. Fay's next letter, received after the middle of July, had a much better tone, answering my original questions quite fully, but mildly protesting at the end that I really should not compare the enterprise of a practicing physician, who had his living to make, with "the admirable work you and your coworkers are carrying on for our animal friends. You are not doing it as a means of livelihood," he went on, "or to provide bread and butter for your families. Therefore, any action you may take or any enmities which may follow do not touch your bank account." Of course I knew the proper answers to virtually all the questions I had originally propounded to Dr. Fay's overlords. I had just wanted him to put them on record for future quotation. Dr. Fay did this quite satisfactorily. It will not be necessary to repeat the answers here save one, which I think it is important to know: "Every health officer shall require the confinement under close observation of any animal of a kind subject to rabies which has attacked or bitten any person and which in his judgment is vicious or unsafe to be at large, for such time as he regards as necessary or he may cause such animal to be killed. It does not make any difference whether the village or town maintains

Give a Dog a Bad Name


a pound or not. The dog may be confined on the premises of the owner or in a veterinary hospital, provided that it is under competent observation. If the dog dies or has to be killed to relieve its suffering, the health officer must then have the head removed and sent at once to one of our laboratories, approved by the State in its Sanitary Code, for examination." T H E DOG-CATCHING RACKET

The long quarantine, approximately six years, at last came to an end, but not some of the perquisites which it brought into being. Government is like that. Remember the guard placed by an empress of Old Russia to stand over a precious rosebush, whose post was continued for a century or more? What I have in mind is the post of dog warden created by the state at the beginning of the quarantine, which was continued long after the quarantine period. The warden who served our county developed so flourishing a business that he became a contractor. He farmed out the actual work to a number of assistants whom he paid out of the amount he received from the state, specified in the regulations as two dollars for each dog seized and two dollars for each dog destroyed. These dog catchers would swing into a community without warning, round up all unmuzzled dogs, destroy as many as possible under the circumstances, obtain from the village clerk certification that their list was correct, and file the certificate with a bill for payment at the county seat. When the quarantine was over, the muzzling of dogs was a consideration less important than their licensing, so we were anxious to see that all dogs bore their up-to-date tags


Give a Dog a Bad Name

when the dog-catching season arrived. A t the time when the police began to check up on delinquents with regard to the licensing of dogs, we volunteered, therefore, to help. T h e village clerk gave us a list of those who had obtained tags the year before, and we telephoned to owners who had not renewed their licenses, advising them to remit to the clerk at once for the protection of their animals. T h e result was highly gratifying to the village, as it was to us—only twelve persons in the entire list failing to respond. T o anticipate the dog warden, then, we established a sort of grapevine telegraph among our friends. In that way we knew almost at once when his men crossed the village line, and we spread the word quickly throughout the community so that the owners of dogs might be prepared for them. Observe that we broadcast a warning on the day they arrived, which was not conniving, as some may think at first glance, to defeat the ends of the law. It was the duty of these dog catchers to post a notice in the village on the day they commenced local operations, giving owners of seized dogs information as to the time and place at which the animals could be redeemed, and this duty they quite invariably failed to observe, as far as our village was concerned. We had been suspecting these fellows for some time. You will remember that there has been mentioned a case in which they were said to have taken a dog tethered to its owner's porch. Also, after each succeeding visit I had noticed the strange disappearance of a large number of licensed animals. In saying this I am not accusing the dog catchers of responsibility for the vanishing pack, but I am stating that the repeated coincidence impelled us to attend

Give a Dog a Bad Name


more closely the work of these strangers. In the late summer of 1933 we decided to follow the current visit through, and the officers of the New York S.P.C.A., to whom we had communicated our intention, said that they would join us in the investigation because other communities in the county had developed suspicions, too. When on a Monday morning our grapevine telegraph duly reported that the dog catcher's closed automobile had come into the village, I at once telephoned the news to William Bevan, general manager of the New York society, and he prepared to act. There was some time available, for the visitors were to stay for two weeks. Monday afternoon I visited the dog catcher at the local pound, and, by questioning him, elicited the statement that he already had picked up twenty strays. This made me still more suspicious, because, while there undoubtedly were some dog waifs in the village, we had pretty well cleared the place of them, and, besides that, we knew from our license renewals that there were only twelve delinquents on the list. On Wednesday Jacob Werner, a special officer of the New York society, visited the pound, receiving from the chief dog catcher's assistant a report that forty-one dogs had been seized; of this number twenty had been killed, five redeemed, and sixteen impounded. Officer Werner made another visit Saturday, and again on Thursday afternoon of the following week, when he was accompanied by Mr. Bevan and myself as witnesses to the admission of the dog catcher that he had destroyed numerous seized dogs without having held them for the full five days then required by law. When asked what he had done with the bodies of the seventy-eight dogs which he declared he had


Give a Dog a Bad Name

killed, out of seventy-nine corralled, he said that they had been buried along the road "wherever the digging was good," a clear violation of the state Sanitary Code. In the meantime the newspapers had picked up the story that the local S.P.C.A. was having a controversy with the dog catcher over the alleged number of animals seized, and reporters obtained, among other scraps of material, a statement by the village clerk supporting the dog catchers. Of course, this had to be, because the clerk had certified at the end of the first week to the correctness of the dog warden's bill for the number of dogs seized at two dollars apiece, and for those destroyed at two dollars each. There were some well-founded reasons for believing that the clerk never actually saw the bodies of the dogs which he was told had been destroyed—nor verified the statement of the dog catcher that he had buried many along the road; but then such remissness is said to be fairly common. In a few cases village clerks are unusually conscientious and insist, for instance, on inspecting the dead dogs' ears presented on a string. When the visit of the strangers was over—and after they had received a thorough lecture by the men from the New York society, they declared themselves never so happy to have completed an assignment—we moved our investigation to the county seat, where we inspected the final bill of the dog warden. Under the law he was supposed to provide therewith a list of names of all dog owners whose pets had been subjected to his drastic treatment; and the list for the first week we now copied that we might check the identities of the owners and their addresses. It is quaintly interesting that we were unable to find in our entire village one person mentioned. Apparently the warden had a sense of humor.

Give a Dog a Bad Name


Perhaps now you are expecting to read that the dog warden was hanged and that the village clerk was sent to jail. But no! There were larger issues, and our hope for victory in those might have been jeopardized by forcing a comparatively minor one like this to a dramatic conclusion. If we had gone to the long trouble and expense of a court examination, the most we could have gained would have been a dismissal of the dog warden. Another warden would then have been appointed at once, and our trouble probably would only have started all over again. As to our village clerk, I feel quite sure that he was merely careless. So what we did as a result of our investigation was just to relay the story to the village trustees that they might pass along a friendly warning to the clerk, reminding him that if the circumstances were repeated more severe critics might suspect him of being in cahoots with the warden. T h e dog warden, assured that he had been seriously remiss in his duty, would unquestionably be more observant of the law next time, which surely was better than having a new, untamed man in his place. You see, the accomplishment we really were looking for was to change the whole system. And I have more to tell you about that.


Telling the People THE reader has noticed, no doubt, how promptly the newspaper men caught at our tilt with the dog catchers, and when I say "caught" at it, I am not referring to news gathering for our two village weeklies. T h e local sheets naturally were most interested in our activities; but the leading New York dailies came for statements, too, although I did not at all like the idea of their publicizing that particular situation. I did not consider the story helpful for the humane cause. While there was no doubt but that we should have come out creditably in what might have been published— since there is no more popular bogey man than the dog catcher—the subject, as far as the detached public was concerned, was essentially comic, and our proper aim was to be taken seriously. It is not at all true that just to be mentioned in the newspapers is necessarily good advertising. There are many times when keeping out of the paper with news of a humane accomplishment will do your society far more good than spreading the news over Page One. For instance, there is the story of the dozen large stray dogs which had banded together to live and forage in the wooded tract south of our village. During the summer they had done fairly well, but as cold weather came on they became desperate. Small domestic animals disappeared. T h e n children were terrorized. Grownups were challenged—by the strays, of course.

Telling the People


Sentimentalists could easily have worked up excuses for the poor creatures. They had been abandoned, and they needed food. They had been given life, and they had a right to live it. All very well, but the true animal lover must demonstrate the point of view which he recommends to othersall living things must be given their due. In this case there should be justice also for the devoured domestic animals, for the frightened children, and for the challenged adults. As this broader view is what is called enlightened government, it became evident that the growing folly of the animal outlaws could lead only to their destruction and very possibly, too, to the killing of innocent dogs throughout the whole countryside. Our village S.P.C.A. was very young then—in its first year—and we debated almost too long over what course to pursue. We sent Cutler to investigate the truth of reports about the wild animals and to try to round them up. Our ambitious interest was divulged by our own possibly injudicious inquiries here and there, for presently the reporters were down upon us for news. In some way or other they had learned that we had considered shooting the poor creatures as the only untried method of bringing them in humanely. Their printed stories to that effect brought eager offers from volunteers who wanted to go hunting out of season, and it was only with great difficulty and extreme secrecy that Cutler managed to coax some of the dogs in with food, resorting to the bullet for only two, which were not otherwise to be reclaimed. PLAYING FAIR WITH THE PRESS

Humane activity of a group is sure to attract reporters, provided, of course, that it has a reasonable scope. T o


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refuse them information of some sort—even when only by an honest promise that if they will wait until a slightly later stage of a developing situation, they will be given a better story—is highly inadvisable. That is partly because otherwise they probably will write something based on their sketchy knowledge, with gaps filled in with cynical guesses, but chiefly because the little humane society needs the reporters more than they need the society. An important public leader, a traveling diplomat, your nation's President, even, frequently will take the journalists into his confidence after pledging them to secrecy for awhile, to let them see for themselves that in a day or two, when all restrictions are lifted, the news values will multiply enormously. This presupposes, of course, that if the correspondents hold off on their "hot tip" now, they will be rewarded with a like evidence of good faith the instant that such cooperation is possible. Such reward in the case of the local society means that all the reporters concerned must have opportunity to write and print the story at about the same time. I mean that if it is at all possible the little fellow whose local weekly appears on Friday morning should not be "scooped" by the reporter from the daily paper in the nearby city by having the story released on Tuesday afternoon. It may be said in passing, too, that the local weekly is frequently of paramount importance to the conduct of the humane work. It is closer to your own village people. T h e important point is that the medium of printed publicity should be a carefully considered instrument. When it is employed strictly in the cause of animal welfare, almost any editor, instead of resenting it as a bid for free advertising, will welcome the method as an opportunity for him

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to obtain first hand, authoritative information which the public wants to read. T h e publicity should always have that character. Never think of publicity—not at any time—as something "put over" on the editors. T h e difficulty is that the humane officer to whom is delegated the place of society spokesman should be somewhat versed in newspaper requirements. I am scarcely one to advise in that respect, having had no journalistic experience of my own, but I may speak confidently of those lessons which I have learned. Certainly I do know that if one wants publicity printed in the form sent in one must learn how to write it. Permit me to modify that statement. The little country papers probably will print almost anything as submitted, no matter how ineptly prepared. Bear in mind, however, that getting a story into the news columns is only part of the achievement. It must be read, and copy prepared with the professional touch not only passes the stricter requirements of papers with wider circulations but commands the coveted attention. WHAT TO SAY T h e successful news item commonly begins with a clear indication of what it is about, like an attractive label on something which one is being induced to buy. Then it contrives to tell when and where the incident happened and whom it concerns. It gives facts, is never intentionally obscure or ambiguous, is exceedingly sparing in use of adjectives, and tries very hard, indeed, to avoid expressing opinions—although, I may whisper to you, as a useful idea, that the mere selection and rejection of material, if skillfully managed, has all the effect of an opinion. If opinions are in order, then be sure to present them as quoted from


Telling the People

the utterance of a specific authority—your secretary or some other officer of your Society. T h a t relieves the editor of responsibility. It is in the subject matter of the story that the village S.P.C.A. finds its peculiar opportunities. It is an excellent rule in writing news to avoid trivialities, but the small happenings in the work of animal relief are frequently the most useful vehicles for important messages. Most of these belong to the broad classification known as "human interest." T h e pup which will not be separated from its master, even by the bars of a cell; the cat who saves her kittens from a fire; Old Dog Tray, who refuses food and reclines on his late owner's grave; the canary which sings in the death h o u s e all these time-honored items will continue probably forever as usable material under this heading. One of my pet cats won notice merely for accompanying me a few times when I drove to the station to meet my husband at the evening train. A black mother cat belonging to a local grocer attained celebrity just because I used to take it home over holidays and the longer winter week ends when the store had no fire in the stove. But the human interest story borders so disconcertingly on sentimentality that it becomes a dangerous toy for the S.P.C.A., whose work is so easily jeopardized by ridicule. For instance, what a misfortune it would have been for a local humane society to have been identified with the movement in either of those two Colorado towns, Fairplay and Alima, which fought in the spring of 1930 over the right to raise a monument to an aged burro which had served in the Yukon gold rush. Accounts of pedigreed animals rank in the newspapers with accounts of the socially elite, which indicates the high

Telling the People


regard which goes to the exceptional animal everywhere. In this sense, a two-headed calf apparently is vastly to be preferred to one which is perfect at birth, and the bulldog that carries a pipe and the elephant that walks like a man are greatly esteemed. Carrying the idea further, you will find that stoning a blind cat is ever so much worse than stoning an ordinary one, just as looting an alms box is infinitely more reprehensible than robbing a bank. Wonder at these quirks of human nature if you like, but there they are to serve you if you need take them into consideration in your publicity campaign. In my opinion, the standing service to be rendered by stories of exceptional animals is in pointing up at the same time the ordinary good traits. T e l l the owner of the mongrel hound the story of "Don, the T a l k i n g D o g , " but remind him that even though his pet is incapable of conversation, possibly it is more devoted to its home. Join in marveling at the canary which, according to the talking newsreel, can whistle most of Yankee Doodle, but observe, too, that your own little yellow bird in his gilded cage extends a more personal service in unsophisticated companionship. I am just thinking what harm is done by these stories of star animal performers. T h e lad whose dog will not respond like D o n will cuff and kick that devoted companion for being so stupid; and the little girl whose canary will not warble a melody to which n o one would listen if it were whistled by a man, deems it completely unworthy because it persists in being a bird. No, while having all admiration for exceptional accomplishments in animals, I want to stress the broad aspect of their virtues. For that reason it is worth while for the S.P.C.A. to be the clearing house for stories of the especially talented beasts, birds, and fishes.


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In the effort to achieve this, let the local society resist the common fallacy that newspapers like to reprint stories and articles clipped from other publications. T h e y can find plenty of that sort of material for themselves. What they want is original writing; and if they are offered a lot of old clippings instead, they will soon lose interest and will not want anything else from the same source. I say that the indiscriminate praise of a fine dog, like Balto of Nome, leads owners in general to be dissatisfied with their ordinary dogs; but many owners do not need so marked a comparison to make them expect too much of their pets. With no movie hero like Rin-Tin-Tin for contrast, they expect of their dogs more than they would of children of the same age. A puppy is expected to be circumspect in his habits at six months, a kitten in less time. Show us the human baby as self-sufficient at so tender an age. Owners like that should be reminded of the interesting experiment of Dr. Kellogg, the University of Indiana anthropologist, who raised a chimpanzee along with his infant son of the same age, and found that in the early months the chimpanzee scored higher in the intelligence tests. It was only toward the end of the first year that the child of man began to forge ahead in the kingdom of reason. SPEED AND A C C U R A C Y

News may be filled with human interest, but the human interest story is not necessarily news. As far as I am able to understand, news per se is distinguished by its timeliness, and that means that the humane organization should not hamper the action of its publicity representative by making him or her wait too long for approval. While the matter

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is being discussed, the chances are that what once was news will lose its effectiveness. Of course there are some subjects which obviously should be held for consideration, but if the press agent is chosen for discretion as well as for knowledge of newspaper practice, these items will be reviewed officially, as a matter of course, before release. Particular care should be given to the verification of facts in any statement issued for publication by the society. In no instance assume responsibility for unchecked pieces of information. As popular advice puts it, "Don't start anything you can't finish." Here is the sort of thing I mean: About a year ago a reporter called my attention to a statement in his own paper that a private rodeo, with all restrictions lifted, was to be held on one of the secluded large estates of the county. T h e account was very circumstantial, even stating that the surrounding roads were being posted with directions for visitors. T h e reporter was hoping, of course, that we would oppose the affair and so give him a follow-up story. As to our disapproving the scheme there was no doubt; but before expressing disapproval in print and possibly opening ourselves to the ridicule attendant upon a hoax, I started an investigation through T h e American S.P.C.A. T h e reporter was made fully aware of what I was doing and consented to await the outcome on condition that he should have the story, if one developed. Well, the investigation proved that the rodeo was just a fantastic dream of a self-styled sportsman in our village, whose imaginings had misled us before. T h e owners of the estate implicated had never even heard of him, much less of his project. With the dreamer the wish had merely been father to the thought. It was not even an intentional hoax. We, therefore, made


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no statement, and the reporter was grateful to us for branding a man who had been an unreliable source of information. There is always the possibility, too, that the accused will fight back, or, at all events, bluff his way out of it. B u t if the facts are thoroughly in hand in advance, the society may carry through to the finish along the line of its original intention. It is surely legitimate to use the power of the press to help overthrow enemies to society, and enemies to society include those who are cruel to animals. Also the power of the press has proved itself strikingly, although not always intentionally, in the defense of brute creation, reminding one, indeed, of Plutarch's quotation of Pyrrhus concerning Cineas, the Thessalian orator, who had taken more towns with his words than Pyrrhus with his arms. L I T T L E BENEFITS FROM BIG PUBLICITY

T a k e the matter of cock fighting in North Carolina. It persisted quietly from colonial times until one day, down Bladen County way, according to an account received by newspaper subscribers of the International News Service in March, 1927, a promoter decided to enlarge his exhibition. He erected an arena for 8,000 spectators and distributed handbills lavishly. T h e publicity he thus obtained not only reached his would-be patrons but brought action by the state legislature to prohibit cock fighting there for all time. It is surely the same sort of notoriety, accompanied by a drop in the tourist trade, which has made Spain modify her infamous bullfights. An informed public sentiment blocked at least two plans to stage bullfights in the United States in 1929-30, and, thanks largely to the press agents

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employed by the managements themselves, the advertised delights of the American rodeo are steadily losing their savor. So, along with the animal lover's indignation over, for example, the printed stories of notoriety seekers w h o slaughter wild ducks from airplanes and African antelopes from automobiles, let there be joy, too, that the very publicity accomplishes their undoing to an extent which is in direct proportion to the volume of newsprint they obtain. T h e misguided men w h o lately bought two poor


lions from a disbanded circus and turned them loose on an island that they themselves might experience the thrill of a lion h u n t near home must have had small satisfaction from the storm of public contempt which burst upon them via radio, press, and newsreel as soon as word of their project was broadcast. It may be that I am too optimistic, but I think that I already see a growing distaste for hunting resulting from the wide publicity given to accidental deaths caused by hunters during the open seasons. T h e reader may wonder what all this has to do with conducting an S.P.C.A. in a small town. It has much to do with it. T h e village of today, especially the small American village, is no longer an isolated community. Most noticeably since the start of the century, our national life has been increasing its interdependence of interests. T h e farmer no longer lives as directly or as simply as his forbears on the products of the soil. H e has his automobile, his telephone, his radio, and his power machinery; his wife has her electric household appliances; and the children have their elementary and advanced schools. T h u s , Sauk Center needs Detroit, N e w York, and Schenectady, as they need Sauk


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Center. So completely self-evident is the point that no interest is purely local any more, that I need not multiply the illustrations. In that same sense our little village S.P.C.A. commands a wide horizon. We are concerned about the neighbor who beats his dog; but we are anxious, too, about the starving elk in Wyoming, about the thirsty cattle in Montana, and about the domestic animals swept away by the changing Mississippi. In the greater scheme, their welfare is our welfare. Matters such as those command national publicity and, in turn, profoundly affect our local situation. They tend to make kindness to animals fashionable. Small detractors of the humane movement can then find no support. When the whole humane movement reveals itself in a Blue Cross for animals in the World War, or in Federal aid for the sea fowl dying off because of oil-polluted waters, or in utterances by celebrities such as Mrs. Fiske, John Galsworthy, Bernard Shaw, and the Reverend S. Parkes Cadman, the resistance to the effort of the average lone S.P.C.A. worker in the small town is vastly reduced. He no longer is a madman riding a crazy hobby. If A1 Smith, for instance, likes animals, there must be something to it. That is the way the public reasons. I have referred to an unpleasant sort of publicity which attains the end humanitarians seek in an indirect fashion, hoisting offenders by their own petard, so to speak. There is also a considerable volume of direct humane publicity, not originating with the S.P.C.A., but arising out of motives which have nothing to do with it. I mean material of the sort issued by the U. S. Department of Agriculture for the protection of many and various animals. There is also

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the propaganda of the Society for the Prevention of Blindness against the possession of air rifles by small boys, intended to safeguard the eyes of the boys, but which we welcome from the standpoint of our especial interest because it also protects birds and small animals. You see, it is much like raising funds at a benefit, where it is more important that those who attend pay for their tickets than that they merely express an active sympathy with the cause. Remember that bull baiting was wiped out in England by the Puritans, not because the Puritans had any especial love of animals, but because their enemies, the Royalists, had such a good time watching the sport. MISUSED POWERS

As there are those who thus help animals for ulterior motives, there are many persons who harm them just because there is money in doing so. I do not refer now to such petty offenders as unscrupulous dog catchers, but rather to large business organizations which use publicity deliberately to swell their profits. Chief among these are the manufacturers of guns and fishing-tackle, and what I especially object to is that in their advertisements they emphasize the contention that a boy cannot grow to be an upstanding man and that no one can be a true lover of the great outdoors without being a killer of animals. Of course that is not true; but insistence on the point, as these advertisers very well know, builds and sustains the fallacy for the careless millions who cannot or will not take the trouble to think out ethical matters for themselves. T h a t same careless attitude is common among those who directly command the powers of publicity. Here and there are deeply compassionate cartoonists, such as the late Claire


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Briggs and J . N. Darling, and protesting writers, such as Sophie Kerr, Emma-Lindsay Squier, and the lamented Sophie Irene Loeb; but most cartoonists and most writers are so indifferent to their responsibility that they follow the crowd like the rest and assume that all dogs must chase cats and that all cats must catch birds in order to deserve public attention. As a rule they are quite shocked to learn that anyone disapproves. An author of several books hailing an advancing civilization chanced to visit our home one day. "What a curious thing it must be to be interested in cats," he remarked when two of my pets wandered in to look him over. "If you knew the abuses which most of them survive," I retorted, "you would realize that they have plenty of character." But he went on serenely: "I've never thought about the cat's point of view. I've just thought of cats as playthings that give my dog a whale of a good time whenever he has a chance to chase them." Then he added the usual lame excuse, "Of course, he'd never hurt them." C A M P A I G N I N G AGAINST


Such naïveté is symptomatic of that prevailing passive hostility to animals which must be overcome mainly through publicity. I wish that our efforts might be so organized that we could have more attention paid to this phase than is at present possible. I would like to see the humane movement maintain something resembling the Publication Committee of the Christian Science Church, a leading duty of which, I understand, is to answer promptly any published reflection or attack on that creed. Lacking such organized assistance, the S.P.C.A. folk may individually refute as many unfair charges as they can.

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I know that a popular magazine-cover artist changed his entire point of view in our favor, just because a few years ago I was instrumental in pointing out to him that an ad which he had drawn for a well known breakfast food was actually hurting the product in many quarters because it needlessly involved a cat treed by a dog. On the other hand, when a novelist celebrated for his dog stories went out of his way to write a Sunday newspaper article declaring that the place of a cat was in the house and that if one ventured outside it deserved to be chased by dogs, I wrote a note asking fair play; but he apparently regarded my request as just part of his fan mail, for along with the indulgent letter which came in reply he sent me a postcard portrait of himself. As I write this I am conscious of the need for a carefully composed letter to some key person in the large gasoline supply corporation which lately announced, in newspapers and over the radio, that it would supply free to any autoist calling for it a booklet containing the game laws of the various states. In this case, however, the letter should, and no doubt will, come from the S.P.C.A. national headquarters, to make the protest worthier of the attention of such a huge business. T h e motion pictures which are shown in our community are much freer from evidences of cruelty to animals than they used to be. For this, of course, we cannot take any credit; but certainly a widespread dislike of such things and perhaps the animal cruelty investigation conducted a few years ago by a Christian Science committee were what led the film association known as T h e Motion Picture Producers and Distributors of America, headed by Will Hays, to put into its code of industrial practice a ban on cruelty


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to animals. Nevertheless, we feel it our duty to file protests now and then with our local movie managers, especially over pictures sponsored by a noted sports writer, whose organization seems to relish the release of its most despicable examples each year in Be-Kind-To-Animals Week. As a rule the movie managers do what they can to please us, but one defied us not so long ago, compelling us to state our case in the newspapers. T h e picture in question showed a wildcat hunt, ending with a scene in which the animal was thrown alive to dogs which then tore it to pieces. T h e manager replied hotly, his chief defense being that wildcats are pests and deserve the worst that can befall them; but I secretly rejoiced, because what he said in the newspapers, over his name, was a complete indictment, in thorough accord with our charge. T h e entire series of pictures which included this unhappy one was eventually shut off from the theatrical screens of the nation through the efforts of T h e American Humane Association. DERISION

T h e first weapon of an enemy who starts to fight the S.P.C.A. is commonly ridicule. He calls us cranks, or, more delicately, psychopathic cases. W e are "meddlers," or we are "Reformers"—with a capital " R " to increase the enormity of our offense. Now, ridicule is a potent force, and in the hands of a skilled opponent may work grievous damage. Consequently we are at great pains not to expose ourselves to it. If we have charges to make, we are most particular about our grounds and how simply and unmistakably they may be stated. W e consider the possible arguments which may be

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used against us, as well as the vulnerableness of our target. We also try to avoid entanglements with other reform groups, even though they may be aligned generally with us, simply because we cannot afford to be handicapped by their incitements to ridicule. Despite all this, we were for awhile made the butt, in an extraordinary way, of an unscrupulous joker, a well known and successful magazine writer. His sister, moreover, was in active sympathy with our group. He had not the slightest reason to injure us. It was at the time when our little local society was just beginning to stand on its own feet, and it was pretty poor sportsmanship for him to do what he did just then. He lived in one of the more sparsely populated parts of our village, where the neighbors, needing unusual protection against marauders, kept large dogs. They kept them, I should say, only in the sense of feeding them and chaining them up at night. T h e rest of the time the animals were permitted to run freely abroad. T h a t quite naturally aroused the ire of our literary friend, for he did his work at home, while his neighbors went to their offices in town. T o make the roving dogs a public issue, he wrote a series of articles for the local press about a fictitious new organization to be called " T h e Society for the Prevention of Cruelty by Animals," giving mock descriptions of meetings, election of officers, and so on. Our trouble was that the public, generally missing his irony, thought it was our own society. All that we did was to keep quiet, knowing that he would enjoy a tilt with us, and we were rewarded at last, partly because he wearied of campaigning and partly because the outbreak of the dog quarantine lessened his canine problem. Nobody thought he was very funny.


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As a matter of fact, we could have told him in advance, out of our direct experience, just how little the public knows or cares about animal situations in any general way. It is incredible how ignorance of that sort persists, even in a community where a humane society is actively at work to correct it. Here we have been active for fifteen years in a mere village, and yet we continually encounter fresh proofs that we have further to go. Maybe it is as mild a proof of the misconception of animal rights as is the case of the mother who ties a cat to a flatiron on the floor for her baby to play with, or of the ignorant woman who cannot see the inconsistency of throwing a new batch of kittens into the ash can, while keeping their mother on a cushion in the best room; possibly it is very unimportant, such as the case of the woman who resented my giving catnip to her pet on the ground that she herself gave it plenty to eat. PROPAGANDA ON T H E DOORSILL

W e could complain because even the abuses against which we have set conspicuous and careful precedents go on and on; but I find it better to accept our problems as being always with us. Our job is never really finished. Just the same, I believe that instances which we are finding now differ from those we encountered last year. One reason is, I suppose, that we employ in our village an especially designed form of publicity. Whenever our agent calls on an errand of mercy, he leaves a card explaining what we do and why. Mr. Cutler has suggested that we should have it also in Polish and Italian translations, and some day we may. T h e card is small—small enough to fit easily into an ordinary envelope—and this is what it says:

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THE LOCAL SOCIETY FOR THE PREVENTION OF CRUELTY TO ANIMALS has asked the agent to give you this card. W e want to thank you for being interested enough in the welfare of an unhappy d u m b creature to send for us. Many persons do not know about the S.P.C.A. T h e y may have heard about the great American S.P.C.A. which was founded in the last century by Henry Bergh. T h e y may even know that he also founded the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children. B u t apparently they never suspected that, as we quietly carry on our own labors here, we do so under the advice and with the complete cooperation of the national organization, which is ready to back us with its full strength in any case denying fair play to an animal. T h e Local S.P.C.A. was founded in 1922. It is not a part of the village government. It is kept going by the unpaid volunteer work of a few animal lovers in this community—and their growing circle of friends. You are pretty certain to find some of those friends among your own neighbors. Because there are many others who do not understand we lose many opportunities to be of service. So won't you tell your acquaintances what you know about us? We'd appreciate it. A n d please call on us again.

What appears on this card has been prepared carefully, despite the fact that it is so disarmingly casual. One will notice, for instance, the reference to Henry Bergh's foundation of the S.P.C.C. That is a very useful item, intended for the notice of the kind of person who demands that humane attention shall go exclusively to children. It is to combat the eternal objection to our work put forth by persons such as Mr. Vokes's neighbor. Walking to the railroad station with him one morning, Mr. Yokes


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offered to sell him a ticket for our benefit bridge and tea to be held next day; but he said, "I'd do it all right, if it were for children." They walked on a little further and presently came to the station. There stood a young woman selling tags for an orphanage. "Here's your chance," said Mr. Vokes to the lover of children, as he purchased a tag for himself. But the lover of children was a lover of children no longer. He turned a deaf ear and passed on to his train. T h e humane worker frequently encounters hypocrites of this stripe. It has been my observation that those who do wholeheartedly for children usually also have ready compassion for animals in distress. " T h e truly good man will be good in all his manifestations." But pointing this out does not do very much to correct the hypocrisy. There are too many unthinking persons ready to accept as final the fallacious judgment that, "as long as there are babies in need, nothing should be spent on animals." Another popular sentiment, recently exploited by one of the great national advertisers, is that for a woman to show affection for a pet animal is only a Freudian way of showing her craving for a child. I condemn the idea. I have seen a mother of ten children displaying compassion in her tender heart for the cats, birds, and dogs of an entire neighborhood. T H E WHISPERERS

As a rule, this very self-righteous attitude concerning animals vs. children is maintained as part of the whispering campaign against the humane movement, and the approved way of meeting such slurs behind one's back is to drag them out into the open. Accordingly, when the opportunity came

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for m e to make a real issue of it and so to throttle as many of the whisperers as possible at one time, I conquered my pride and did it. T h e opportunity arose in this manner: O n e of the directors of our society chanced to be in the office of the village clerk interviewing the tax collector. H e r chance reference to the local S.P.C.A. was overheard by a village ashman who was lounging in the room, and he sneered at it, asking why the society did not render the more important service of helping children. H e added, the unfortunate challenge, "What's the matter with your president"—mentioning m e by name—"that she hasn't any children?" W h e n the matter was brought to my attention, I was naturally distressed. So was Mrs. T a t e , whose name had been coupled with mine and to the same effect. O u r husbands wanted to punish the offending ashman in the manner he deserved, but I saw my way to a better satisfaction. I conferred with the local editor, w h o had been our best friend in a publicity way and obtained through him the freedom of his columns, with an advantageous position under a three-deck headline on the front page. T h e story I sent was in the form of a letter to the editor. M y statement was made personally, not officially, although I pointed out that my stand doubtless would have been endorsed by


folk everywhere had I desired such support. After a brief recital of the circumstances, I went on: " T h e r e was more to this conversation, involving my coworkers and friends. B u t it is my intention to make this my own fight for respect in what I have for some time considered my home town. In making that fight I am equally determined to make it in good temper. It would be very easy to refer to my insulter as a loafer w h o would


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not dare to repeat his words in my own presence, certainly not in the presence of any man in my own family. And as for being an ashman, that is an entirely respectable and necessary occupation and there are men in it who will resent this offense. " T h e point is that this insult has been uttered behind my back too many times since a few other ladies and myself founded the local S.P.C.A., in 1922, and by many persons far more responsible than this poor, ignorant fellow. For that reason I am dignifying this present incident to bring the whole cowardly matter out into the light. The fact is that I have lost a child of my own, and, what is not always true in families, a child dearly wanted by my husband and myself." I then proceeded to a small sermon on the necessity of keeping all living things going simultaneously in this world, concluding with a bid for reassurance by the residents of the village that the place was "a home of enlightened persons and not a backwoods community living in mental darkness." The editor bulwarked my letter with a leading editorial, praising my courage, and saying in so-many words, "For shame!" T h e letter struck home, especially among the officials. They displayed a mild panic because the incident had occurred within the walls of the municipal building. The village clerk called to offer apologies on behalf of the trustees and to make sure that I understood that he had been absent from his office when the insult occurred. He offered to discharge the offending ashman if I so desired, to which I replied that out of consideration for the man's family at a time of great national unemployment, I would not want him so punished. I received congratulations from

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many sources, but the most curious reaction was evinced by our old friend, the village president. President Arnold wrote me a letter expressing his official regret for the incident, but saying that his investigation had uncovered some qualifying circumstances which would temper my resentment could I but know them; and he offered to explain, if I would visit him at his office in the municipal building. My answer was that no possible circumstances could justify the slur admittedly cast upon me and that it was strange, indeed, that a gentleman with an explanation to offer should expect me to journey to his office to hear why I had been insulted. In stating that the affront to women of the S.P.C.A. had been uttered by persons far more important than the ashman, I had expressed an outstanding truth. Educated persons are not necessarily reasoning persons; otherwise there would not be such anomalies as vacationing hunters and spare-time fishermen, finding their recreation in killing. Persons generally are much constrained in their proper regard for animals by sheer tradition and prejudice, which a consistent publicity campaign is very efficient in breaking down. TRADITIONS

It is not vital for the small-town humane worker to conduct much of such propaganda, although, of course, every little helps; but it is important to understand how it operates. T a k e this matter of the ideal vacation supposedly devoted to hunting and fishing. As I see it, the so-called pleasure is mainly in a point of view rather than in the acts of shooting and fly-casting—Izaak Walton to the contrary notwithstanding. T h e hunter raves more over the invigora-


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tion of sleeping in an open camp and the tempting aroma of bacon and flapjacks than he does over his kill. T h e angler, scratched, bruised, and tired from his jaunt through the swamp, vows that he has had a royal day although he returns with nary a nibble. I am confirmed in this opinion when I see the hunter substituting the camera for the gun and having an even better time; just as the fisherman finds nothing missing when he takes up sketching, for instance, in place of the rod. T h e camera manufacturers are helping to change the sportsman's point of view even when they stress the importance of carrying a kodak to record the hugeness of the grizzly brought down or the trout or the tarpon brought up. Publicity given to the farmers of Fredonia, New York, in 1934, for posting more of their lands than ever before, banning hunters because they are too careless in handling firearms, is symptomatic of an altering opinion concerning wholesome play. T h e attack may not be as direct as the indignant humane worker might wish, but it helps to leaven the lump. If one observes closely, he finds constant rivulets of publicity breaking down the old savage traditions. It may be observed that agriculturists are championing once universally hated owls and hawks; the Boy Scouts, among others, are stanch, understanding friends of reptiles. In unobtrusive ways the public is being informed that dogs breathe through their tongues; that cats dread water only because they have no oil in their fur to shed it and that they need drinking water very greatly, as do most other animals; that fish and other cold-blooded animals do have feeling, as do worms also; that a cat does not always land on its feet, and

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that the allegation that it has nine lives is actually only an unhappy figure of speech. T o analyze useful humane publicity would be to survey all the states of mind, friendly and opposing, which affect the well-being of the S.P.C.A. I cannot hope to fulfill so large an order. Yet I am sure that to indicate a few of the high spots will prove useful to the interested reader. One state of mind which is always at first a trifle skeptical is that of the local veterinary surgeon. If he is very oldfashioned, he will resent the coming of the S.P.C.A. as cutting into his trade because it advises people concerning the care of their pets. If he is modern, he will soon see that expansion of the society's work brings out a higher appreciation of animals and develops his own profession, because the owners would be likely to call him to serve patients which would previously not have been considered worth while. On the society's side, the officers must realize that they should never try to usurp the place of the trained veterinarian. Having investigated and established his right to their confidence, they should, indeed, recommend him freely, expecting him in return to do superior work at fair prices. Save in extreme cases, the humane worker's medical advice to an animal owner should confine itself to first aid —what to do until the veterinarian arrives—leaving the rest as, in truth, the law would have it, to the veterinarian. Then there are the friends who apologize for your weakness and eccentricity in working for animals. They hurt you by their own evident lack of conviction that what you are doing is right. There are also the emotional persons who are fond of you and utter absurdities intended to support you—such as the statement once made by one of my


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own dear relatives, who asserted, and wanted to know if I did not agree, that "birds and mice were created by God for little cats to eat." There are friends with pedigreed animals who develop a curious contempt for unhappy mongrels, and this often amounts to cruelty. These situations call for spontaneous tact which cannot be prescribed, but the cure is publicity—of the word-of-mouth sort. T h e specialist animal lovers should be enlisted as workers with the local society. It does not matter greatly if they do not actually join the organization. T h e woman who loves dogs and would not have a cat or a bird around is an excellent person to whom you may refer your canine cases. T h a t gentle lady in our own little group whose choice (although not her exclusive consideration) among the lesser creatures is birds and who maintains a veritable aviary in her solarium, featuring a vagrant sparrow which comes to her call—who could care better for your feathered patients than she who shows such devotion to the whole species? We have another haven, one for helpless squirrels, at a place where the owner has no use for any other living creature. And so it goes. O U R H U M A N E COUSINS

Surely one of the most perplexing problems is that of specialists like these who form themselves into societies and issue their sentiments as propaganda. T h e organized bird lovers then demand the extinction of the cat, and an authoritative voice is needed to tell them that if cats sometimes kill birds, birds frequently kill worms, and worms are urgently needed to labor in our gardens—to tell them, moreover, that it is expecting a lot of a cat to ask him to understand that he ought to kill mice, but must not eat

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birds—especially since people eat birds and, it is reported, Chinamen eat mice. Seriously, though, I do not regard the problems thus created for us by Audubon societies and garden clubs as insuperable. T h e bird lovers are surely doing more for the humane cause than they are against it. What troubles me is the effect on the outside public when it hears that subdivisions of the humane group are warring with one another. It is bad for the whole humane cause, and for that reason, if for no other, our specialists should avoid treading on their brothers' toes. I shall never forget my consternation when first I heard of the bitter rivalry of two organizations in the New York metropolitan area, both devoted to the welfare of blind babies. T h e outside public has particular difficulty in differentiating between ordinary humane workers and the antivivisectionists. In fact, it is not always possible to separate them from the inside, for few humane workers would deny sympathy for those who seek to prevent animal experimentation. As a society we belong to an anti-vivisection group; but as an individual I have certain reservations, chiefly that in identifying ourselves with them we are at one stroke acquiring all their special enemies. A t the same time we receive no aid to fight our own enemies in ways which do not concern anti-vivisectionists but which are immediate and vital to us. In other words, I sometimes wonder if we are not weakening ourselves disproportionately in order to render negligible aid to them. T o brand ourselves uncompromising opponents of animal experimentation is at once to alienate virtually all members of the medical profession together with most of the rest of the scientific world—in short, a goodly propor-


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tion of our educated, reasoning friends, whose intelligent support we need. I wonder if we cannot achieve more by trying to see their point of view with the same fairness with which we expect them to appreciate ours. Physicians of my acquaintance frequently are conspicuously kind to suffering animals, and they subscribe readily to our general principles of humane conduct; but if I should make their agreement conditional on their repudiation of all biological products, they would turn flatly against us. T h e anti-vivisectionists oppose all serum and vaccine preparations because live animals are used in their manufacture. This at once raises the question of benefits to mankind in modern methods of fighting smallpox, diphtheria, scarlet fever, and so forth. As a matter of fact, the use of animals in making vaccines and serums is far less cruel than their employment in many other biological departments. I would prefer to reserve the fight on serums, if it is one that ought to be waged, until a later date, when the graver abuses may have been overcome. Even doctors usually abhor the monstrous activity of certain notoriety seekers in what ought to be the humane field of psychology, considering how much pain a conscious, tortured animal may endure, for instance; but I say again that they will not help to suppress even such activity if they are first obliged to forswear what in their hearts they believe to be the advancement of medicine. Only a week or so before writing these lines I was talking unofficially about this very thing with an executive head of one of the world's largest companies engaged in the manufacture of biological preparations. "What I have against you principally," I told him, "is that you are content to continue to use animals. You spend millions in re-

Telling the People


search to improve your machinery and your packages but nothing to find unfeeling substitutes for the pitiable creatures who serve you. It can be done. With no intention to relieve animals, scientists have lately replaced an important serum with a chemical product; others have devised a glass tube to do the work which canaries have done in detecting noxious gases in the mines. Why can't you make a few advances like those?" CAMPAIGNING



Let us turn now to the routine application of a publicity policy. Looking back over our dozen or so years, I am at first struck by the seasonal problems. I have spoken of these problems before, but I have said little directly about what we do to meet them. There was the spurt of miscellaneous material for each Be-Kind-to-Animals Week, in April: the preliminary interviews with the ministers, the priests, and the rabbis, exhorting them to effective addresses to their respective congregations; the encouragement of school programs; and the placing of humane posters in stores and public buildings throughout the community. Also in the spring season we published helpful hints on fledgling birds; what to do when they fell from the nest; where to obtain help when they were injured; how to bell the cat for the nesting period without choking him to death; and other useful information of that sort. Summer brought injunctions against leaving one's pets to starve during vacation and for putting out accessible pans regularly filled with drinking water. Autumn was the cue for warnings to hunters not to break the laws. When winter came, I issued items about the trapping statutes and appeals for the feeding of birds.


Telling the People

T h e other published stories, which did not deal with specific cases, show our unceasing effort to inspire public confidence in our society. Public confidence is cumulative, and it is also evanescent. A humane society must keep hammering on the humanitarian idea as long as it is needed. T h e public is a chronic forgetter. I found that we doubled our opportunity by publishing semiannual reports of what we were doing, instead of just issuing a routine statement once a year. In those reports we never failed to recall our history or to remark on our increased service. We made it as personal as possible by stressing all the relevant names of persons connected with the organization. At least one such name would be recognized by any reader in the village as belonging to someone he actually knew. W e made much of the fact that no one but Cutler was paid, and by boldly describing our work as a community service, not a charity, we intimated clearly that our society really should be supported, in part, at least, out of the village budget. I n reviewing the reports of our annual bridge and tea, one may see the same factors at work. Here, again, we derived multiple benefits from listing the names of all who attended or who purchased tickets without attending. Lists such as that virtually guarantee publication of your story, because editors still hold the view that anyone will buy a paper in order to see his name in print. But mere publication was not our only purpose. T h e names of our guests stamped them as our friends and supporters and impressed everybody else. It impressed the guests, too. In consequence of that and of some other careful attentions, our annual bridge and tea ultimately became known as the "smartest" social affair in the village. Supporting the published items, I think of further de-

Telling the People

145 vices to encourage the public to look to us for anything about animals. We try to keep available information on all domestic dumb creatures so that we may answer inquiries immediately. If we are supposed to know, we must try to deserve the reputation. On my bookshelf are twenty or more authoritative books on horses, cats, dogs, birds, and miscellaneous material on many other creatures. We have a list of the current dog-license numbers obtained from the State Department of Farms and Markets, showing the numbers by communities. We have also a list of last year's licenses, because many dogs brought in have not been given their new licenses. There are addresses and telephone numbers of veterinarians in our village and in all neighboring villages. There are bandages and antiseptics, sedatives and means for humane destruction. There are animal baskets and boxes. There is food for starvation cases. There are posters, and there are lesson sheets for humane education in the schools. But that last-named subject deserves a chapter by itself.


Bending the Twig "Is IT right to kill a fly?" The questioner looks at you with all the earnestness of his five or six years, in full confidence that he will receive an answer as authoritative and complete as he does when he asks, "How much is two and two?" If you are like nine hundred and ninety-nine persons in a thousand, you reply: "Of course, dear. Kill every fly you see." But if you are head over ears in animal protection work, a question such as that makes you hesitate. In that event you cannot just toss off an answer. What about this compassion for all living things; this alleged selfishness of man who sees no excuse for animal life which does not directly benefit him; this much-vaunted policy of "Live and let live"? You think of the evidence adduced in all extensive campaigns for the swatting of flies as filthy carriers of disease, and you know in your heart that there is only one reply—that it is right. But how to convince this child that you are consistent when you also say that he shall spare the butterfly and the bee? Well, it really is not so difficult when you consider that such contradictions are characteristic of the life which the child is to find opening for him every day. It is a typical choice between good and evil, the concepts of which depend on the child's own penetration of the reasons lying beyond. I recommend disconcerting questions like this as opportunities to test the soundness of a humane philosophy.

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T h e effectiveness of your reasoning will tell you quickly how genuine you are. A group of anxious youngsters brings you a dead bird, an incident recurring frequently in my own experience. They expect you to do something about it. You may shake your head and tell them that the S.P.C.A. can help only animals which are alive, but at the same time your conscience whispers to you that that is not enough. These children have come to you in the certainty that an injustice has been done in depriving this feathered little songster of his happiness in the sunshine and also in their splendid faith that you—champion of all living creatures, disciple of St. Francis—will somehow correct the situation. You just cannot fail them. T o meet this problem takes patience and courage. How will you respond when the inevitable little boy or girl rings your doorbell and says, "Mamma sent me over to get a cat to catch mice"? Can it be that you are less humane to timid little mice than to cats or dogs—or rabbits or squirrels? What answer will issue glibly from your lips when a growing lad, accompanying a smaller boy who has a kitten to be destroyed, asks if he may call later for the body, since he expects some day to be a doctor and wants to dissect it? I do not offer you the answers here for two simple reasons: one, that replies to these will never fit the particular cases which you will encounter; and, two, that my whole point, that you will be challenged daily with regard to your beliefs, already has been made. HOW IT STARTED

T h e novice in humane work will pray never to be subjected to these embarrassments. A great mistakel They are symptomatic of a golden opportunity—greater than prov-


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ing the soundness of one's philosophy—that is, the opportunity to catch the citizens of tomorrow in their formative stage and to mold them to a kindly point of view. A t the outset the questions struck me aghast, too. Happily for me, however, I had the tutelage of a remarkable student of children—Mrs. Roy, charter member of our little S.P.C.A. group, and long a local captain of the Girl Scouts. While I admired Mrs. Roy for the marked capability she evinced from the very first, I did not realize until much later, when I myself became a member of the Girl Scout County Council, that she was extraordinary even among Scout leaders. It seems that they have trouble in finding leadership in that organization just as they do everywhere else. Mrs. Roy favored us, I understand now, only secondarily because of her compassion for animals. Her first motive was her earnest belief that humane feelings should be inculcated in the character of developing girlhood. She would help me to harbor stray dogs until I could take further action on their behalf, but even that was just her own good deed a day as prescribed in the Scout Manual. She told the splendid girls who were under her strict command about the S.P.C.A. work upon which we were embarking and literally compelled me to come and talk to them about rendering first aid to animals—what to do when they found dumb creatures in need. I talked to them reluctantly, because of a lack of experience in public address; but I was ashamed to say "no" to one who so generously proved her own devotion. How glad I am now that I wentl Forty-eight hours had not began their humane service. just a reaction to the novelty support continued and grew.

elapsed before those Scouts I thought probably it was of the thing. But no! Their T h a t was because Mrs. Roy

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was not one to do things by halves. T o her, to know was to do. More than that, with her, doing was service. T h e girls brought me case after case, and not a trivial item in the lot. Then their friends began to come; and before long the smaller children, clearly impelled by their desire to emulate the older girls whom they admired, arrived also with animals to be helped. It was all very interesting and inspiring to us. Of course, we had thought, in considering our general plans for the future, about reaching the children some day or other. T h e great parent S.P.C.A. had always recommended that. But we had thought of humane instruction as just a department of formal education in the schools, and since it was vacation time when we originally organized, we knew we could not reach the children immediately that way. T h e Girl Scouts, however, broadened our ideas. So, when the school opened in the fall, we were ready for a more active campaign in this direction than we had expected. T h e Girl Scouts had demonstrated how valuable young persons could be to us as allies, considering their constant circulation throughout the village, their comparative freedom from social inhibitions, and their natural enthusiasm for justice. These virtues prevail. Children are often literal savages, but, save in abnormal cases, they are amenable to ideas of fair play. Even ordinary youngsters commit cruel practical jokes, such as tying a dog to the back of a parked automobile; but when an unwitting driver drags a dog to its death, they are remorseful, indeed, going through agonies of contrition to which mere corporal punishment is as nothing. Naturally, I cannot condone an act of that sort; and yet I feel that as proof of misguided character it cannot stand as reprehensible as the instance


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I recall in which four little girls, of good family, beat a large earthworm to death in the certainty that they were killing a snake, even after its actual character was carefully explained. T h e arrival of the principal and teachers for the fall term was our signal for approaching them on the subject of humane education. We awaited their relief from the press of opening business, but still did not wait until after complete adjustment of the curriculum. Now that I think of it, I recall that we had preliminary conversations with Mrs. Green, principal of the elementary school, who had shown a real interest in what we were doing. The interview with Mr. Duffy, the superintendent, came later, and he proved agreeable, too. We had the advantage of the law in all this, for, in our state of New York, humane education is required in the schools.1 I regret to add that the measure is very unevenly observed. Where it is enforced, the reason is usually to be found embodied in some superintendent, principal, or i New York, chap. 210 of the Laws of 1917, art. 26-B, Instruction in the humane treatment of animals and birds, sec. 700. " T h e officer, board or commission authorized or required to prescribe courses of instruction shall cause instruction to be given in every elementary school under State control or supported wholly or partly by public money of the State, in the humane treatment and protection of animals and birds and the importance of the part they play in the economy of nature. Such instruction shall be for such period of time during each school year as the Board of Regents may prescribe and may be joined with work in literature, reading, language, nature study or ethnology. Such weekly instruction may be divided into two or more periods. A school district shall not be entitled to participate in the public school money on account of any school or the attendance at any school subject to the provisions of this section, if the instruction required hereby is not given therein. T h e Commissioner of Education shall, pursuant to this act, cause the consideration of the humane treatment of animals and birds to be included in the program of teachers' institutes."

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teacher w i t h a k i n d heart, w h o personally has compelled action. O u r o w n reception by the school officials was cordial enough, b u t the i m m e d i a t e p r o b l e m was neatly thrust back into o u r o w n laps. If h u m a n e education was to be administered, they said, w h o c o u l d h a n d l e it better than ourselves? T h a t p o i n t is, of course, debatable. Nevertheless, it was then n o time for c h e c k i n g possible experts. T h e school people were d e c l a r i n g their desire to help. For us to decline to cooperate, after h a v i n g said that instruction was necessary, w o u l d h a v e been confessing, in a way, that w e were not qualified even to raise the issue. So, willy-nilly, I consented to address two assemblies for ten minutes each— the very y o u n g children a n d the u p p e r grades. THE YOUNG DEFENDERS M y talk w e n t m u c h more easily than I h a d thought it w o u l d , thanks to a h a p p y device established l o n g before by T h e A m e r i c a n S.P.C.A. a n d even longer ago,


another name, in B o s t o n a n d in England. T h i s was the enlistment of the children in o u r local society in a special division all their own. W h o e v e r initiated a n d d e v e l o p e d the plan—and I dare say that many minds were directed u p o n it as it grew—had shrewd understanding of c h i l d psychology. T h e organization had a separate n a m e — T h e

Y o u n g Defenders' L e a g u e ;



dues; and, above all, a visible insignia, a celluloid button, proclaimed m e m b e r s h i p . W e a r i n g one of those buttons, the youngster's vivid i m a g i n a t i o n elevated h i m to the rank of authority a n d importance. It invested h i m w i t h the strength of a great crusading organization and inspired h i m w i t h courage to c h a m p i o n the weak and oppressed, just as the


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policeman's baby of three or four years will brave the terrifying darkness of the blackest closet, provided he may wear his father's badge. T h e idea is not unique. In Boston and in England the children's division is called T h e Band of Mercy. T h e Knighthood of Youth and the Order of Sir Galahad represent successful schemes of the same sort. Educators know of many more, but we hail the Young Defenders especially because of their fine accomplishment for us. W e purchased the buttons readily from the New York Society, but they were bestowed with care. After school on the day when we announced the formation of the Young Defenders, my home, which chanced to be directly opposite the school, was virtually besieged by applicants; but they were consistently turned away empty-handed because, we explained, the deserving boy or girl must first prove worthiness by a humane deed. T o be valued, the buttons had to be earned. Still, when we actually came to make the awards, we were not too quibbling about merit. W e wanted the Young Defenders idea to expand. When four children called to bring me one wounded thrush, we congratulated them all warmly on their fine spirit, noted their names, and gave each one a button. A boy with a long, involved tale about a lot of starving kittens in the deep cluttered cellar of a village store, was loaned a button that he might have authority to go to the rescue, with the understanding that he might keep it when his mission had been fulfilled. Certainly there were plenty of frauds perpetrated upon us. But there were also plenty of ways to convert those generally transparent deceptions into useful missionary service. A credulous manner while the child embellished

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his fib with more sensational details for his willing listener opened many opportunities to impress him with the essential ideals. Consequently, as a result of many such instances I was later rewarded with humane deeds in fact instead of in fiction. Teachers frequently assured me of improvements in character due to the ideals of the Young Defenders. Now and then a tiny shaver would appear at my door with a fat puppy or a sleek tabby cat, obviously filched from a neighbor with the idea of exchanging it for a button. This was more serious, and I had no set formula to meet such situations other than generally to restore the pet to its home and see that the erring youngster helped me do it, to his great honor as a humane worker. When the deceivers became more cunning in their play for buttons and when their occasional success threatened to discredit our real purpose, we made the requirements still more rigid, and I obliged the applicants to journey for their buttons all the way up the hill to Mrs. Tate's house. She, in turn, made it just a little harder by making the awards only on Tuesdays. I have no doubt that in many other communities the Young Defenders are better organized than they have been in ours. T h e chief reasons for our defections are that our funds, our time, and our personnel have been so limited. We have not yet been able to build up a juvenile division which will run itself. Still, by making a drive at the start of each school year with a fresh supply of buttons, we have given the idea sufficient momentum to do our society much good. T h i s is not to imply that the children have not been given their proper measure of attention. We may not have concentrated on a group of youngsters within the society, but we have spent many thoughtful hours planning how


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to promote in children generally a just regard for animal life. Now, after fifteen years, we find a gratifying number of deeds of mercy done by young men and women who remind us that they once belonged to our Young Defenders. T h e first result of our school contact, following the original distribution of buttons, was to set the fashion, so to speak, for kindness to animals among children. For awhile they outdid themselves in keen rivalry to bring in strays and injured pets. Conspicuous motives were emulation of the noble example and the hunger for praise. Little fellows would come with their chums to my door and then say something like this: "Johnny—Johnny Kovinsky—hehe's bad to animals." T h e speaker would look around, whereupon the other accusers would nod their heads vigorously. I would ask, "What did Johnny do?" "Kicked a dog." "Did you see it?" "Yes." T h e monosyllable would come in breathless chorus. "When did this happen?" I would go on, suspecting something, and then the case would explode with the next reply, "Last year." Well, these earnest youngsters, whether they were trying to "show off" before their playmates or not, were not to be ridiculed or embarrassed. They had at least the germ of the proper humane feeling. So I would ask where Johnny Kovinsky lived and what class he attended in school, and I would promise to investigate. On one occasion the group came not only with its leader but also, to my real surprise, with that particular Johnny Kovinsky himself, ready to admit his guilt and, in a kind of martyr spirit, prepared to take his medicine. That was another problem, and it took no end of tact to reprimand Johnny for his fault so that he would neither lose caste with his friends nor cease to work for animals. Somehow I seem to have accomplished it.

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T h e first juvenile enthusiasm died down like a subsiding wave, but it left a public consciousness of an event. T h e n the idea really began to catch hold. Children who had a natural love and compassion for animals attracted our attention. Not all these girls and boys belonged to good homes. Kind hearts emerged from the tottering old factory "barracks" perhaps oftener than they did from fine houses in the Manor. One little fellow, a pathetic little foreigner, who had accepted his membership in the Young Defenders as a life work, came with undiminished ardor almost daily. He spoke with twisted speech which frequently was unintelligible; but when we had disentangled it, we found his information dependable and valuable. He came at all hours and in all kinds of weather, lugging unfortunate animals, some of them almost his own size. Many a time I had to scribble a note to his teacher, excusing his tardiness at school. One morning I not only had to write his teacher an excuse but also had to sew an important button on his trousers. He was always unfortunate. When we awarded him a humane prize in school one day for his outstanding S.P.C.A. work during the term, his teacher told us privately that the honor was most unhappily timed because he was at that moment in disgrace for classroom misbehavior. I even believe that it was from this child that our whole adult household came down with the mumps, but viewing his service in retrospect, I am inclined to believe that it was worth our pain and inconvenience. T h a t reference to reward suggests something else. When a youngster rendered distinguished humane service—saved an animal's life or possibly summoned us in time to end hopeless agony by merciful destruction—we were inclined


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to make more substantial acknowledgment. W e soon found, however, that giving money was most inadvisable. O n that basis children learn quickly to set wrong values on their good deeds. If cats, dogs, or birds delivered to the S.P.C.A. will bring a dime or a quarter apiece, the little folks will soon make a distinct racket of it, and the well-intentioned society will bear the onus of having set them sinister examples. A f t e r a few mild proofs of this, we eschewed money rewards for children. Later w e tried giving a prize to the school class in which the pupils had performed the most conspicuous humane work during the year. T h e first award was a large framed picture, an etching of a Rosa Bonheur painting of a dog, with an attached inscription marking the occasion. W i t h cooperation of principal and teachers, the ceremony of bestowal occurred in f u l l p o m p and had considerable good effect. Nevertheless, we finally came to favor individual recognition, giving books such as the world-famous Greyfriars Bobby,


Son of Battle,



and so

forth, or—what has proved most lasting in effect—subscriptions to h u m a n e magazines. A l l this was supplemented with important recognition, which is less costly to the society than the awarding of prizes, namely, stories released to the press concerning the more outstanding deeds, giving the children generous credit for their part. If you think grownups are thrilled by seeing their names in the paper, you should have seen the effect on these delighted youngsters. A couple of years ago, when the Young Defenders had not been stimulated as m u c h as in former times, we reawakened attention by presenting the entire school with a handsome bird bath for the lawn. T h i s was ceremoniously unveiled, and the younger children were entrusted

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with the task of seeing that it was kept clean and filled with fresh water. And, speaking of more general awards, every American school is invited by the national organization to participate in an annual humane poster contest for money prizes. Money is all right for this purpose, of course. Art teachers in general welcome the event, entries being sent in by the thousands. Local exhibitions are given, frequently in theater lobbies and smart shop windows, and even those who win no further attention are commonly well pleased. Here, again, the cumulative effect of many comparatively small factors helped in many ways to produce the desired result. This is apparent in the earnestness with which local children view and approach the humane problem. I feel that, erratic as our own campaign has been, we have succeeded in gaining the children's respect for our ideals and our work and have inspired individual service in the children who in the fifteen years of our existence as a society have grown to adult life. W e see vivid proof in the youngsters who bring us their dogs, cats, rabbits, turtles, birds, and mice. I witnessed a particularly happy instance just recently when two boys who were asked to watch for a cat and kittens gone wild, formed a club, with three other lads, called T h e Secret Five. T h e members of the group took turns doing sentry duty until the good work was done. It is evident, I am sure, that dealing with children in this way carries responsibility. T h e y must not be exploited. They must not be used as mere tools for building up the number of cases cared for by the society. For one reason, that would subject the society to devastating public criticism, and, for another and vastly more important reason, the society would then be spurning an important oppor-


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tunity to train, as I already have p o i n t e d out, a new generation of animal lovers. T o avoid these disadvantages is not easy. Y o u w a n t to learn the names of miscreants w h o maltreat animals a n d the details of their offenses. W h a t


than to make spies of the i n g e n u o u s children? If you a b h o r that thought, as I do, h o w are y o u to receive the indignant, almost tearful report of a c h i l d that o l d U r i a h B e e p is secretly shooting squirrels w i t h a rifle f r o m the cover of his back porch or that Mrs. G l u m p h was seen f e e d i n g a piece of poisoned beefsteak to her neighbor's dog? Implicate the child, and you w i l l be accused of t a k i n g an u n f a i r advantage; ignore the report, a n d let y o u r conscience accuse you of c o n d o n i n g cruelty. W e l l , here's another place f o r intelligent compromise. T h e r e

is n o rule



J u d g e the case o n its o w n merits a n d act accordingly. B u t d o not fail to protect the child. T H E GRADE SCHOOL A n d then, again, should one l a u n c h heavily into hum a n e education, even more dangers w o u l d be encountered. Elementary schooling is not as simple these days as w h e n —well, as it was as recently as ten years ago.


attentively w h i l e the modern schoolmistress prepares for her o w n profession, one hears strange references to the child's






tient," " m e n t a l age," and m a n y more u n f a m i l i a r attributes. Being

an outsider,

I obviously




terms. A l l I k n o w of them is that I respect the experts in whose vocabularies such words have meanings; cause

I do, I urge the ambitious h u m a n e

and be-



wishes to develop h u m a n e education in the classroom to

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enlist as her chief counsellor and friend a professional teacher actively engaged in teaching. In any school large enough to maintain a staff, it is almost certain that at least one qualified person will consent to formulate a classroom program of a be-kind-to-animals nature. Of course, there's likely to be opposition. T h e curriculum will be found already crowded with the diverse subjects which have replaced the traditional Three R's. Most of the other teachers will be unsympathetic toward animals. Parents (but not members of the Parent-Teachers Association, which is on record as sympathetic) will scoff at the plan as more foolish expense for the taxpayers. But then, provided that the teacher-champion is well grounded in her arguments involving skills, levels, I.Q.'s and all the rest, behold the opposition melting away and the establishment of a fine new branch of the society's service. This is to point up my denunciation of the folly of having some lady in your group whose sole qualification is that she "loves the darling little ones" go to the school on an appointed day to read sentimental, stupid stories about animals to the assembled pupils. T h a t sort of alleged humane education is only one degree removed from what I believe with the teachers to be an actionable offense—reading doggerel to the same effect. There are plenty of sensible, straightforward, intensely interesting facts to tell about animals with the laudable result of increasing respect for them. And what is more, the person best qualified to carry the narrative through is she who has been trained to do it. Of course, one has to find a person who happily blends a knowledge of teaching methods with some understanding of the animal situation. Lack of such balance may be disastrous. I remember my indignation when I visited the


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humane-poster exhibit arranged by a proud drawing instructor who felt that the prize should go to a poster representing a prowling cat, which bore the legend, "Protect Our Birds." T h a t was neither good humane thinking nor good pedagogy. I say it was not good teaching because, as I understand it, so specialized an attitude is completely at variance with modern principles of education, especially with the one referred to as "integration of knowledge"— that is, the fitting of special knowledge into the general pattern of information which a child acquires from many different sources. My belief that humane education in the schools should always be conducted by one who knows the principles of teaching as well as he understands animals is based first upon the direct proof of limitations which I received when I tried to do the instructing myself and second upon the apologetic request of the assistant principal that no other lady in our group be permitted to attempt it. You see, the poor teachers had endured our efforts several times, suffering in silence because we had a certain favorable standing in the village, including the approval of the Parent-Teachers Association. After a momentary chagrin, I was truly grateful for the request. We rarely may see ourselves as others see us, and we might have gone on foolishly believing that we were doing good when our talks there were really antagonistic to the cause. T h e third support for my conviction was owing to the fact that on a few occasions we had obtained the services of Mrs. Stella J. Preston and Miss Frances E. Clarke, specialists in child training, who were connected then with T h e A.S.P.C.A. When they talked to the children, a favorable impression was marked; when they separately addressed the

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teachers themselves, it was at once evident from the close attention of the audience that the speakers were referring in proper terms to approved classroom devices. If a local society is fortunate enough to number among its friends not only someone who will be acceptable in the public schools, but also someone who will be welcome in the parochial and private schools, this phase of the work may be efficiently handled. We have, however, been exceedingly careful not to abuse the school hospitality. I believe that I am accurate in estimating our average number of contacts in any one educational institution at three per school year—one in the autumn, for a general humane talk; one in April, for the Be-Kind-to-Animals Week program; and one for the annual humane-poster contest. T h e remainder of the year is cared for by the teachers themselves, who occasionally use humane literature purchased by us for that purpose from the Humane Education Department of the A.S.P.C.A. headquarters in New York. T h e school children celebrate Be-Kind-to-Animals Week with appropriate programs spontaneously arranged. T h e y like to invite me at that time to see what they have done. T h e teachers are glad of this especial activity under their trained guidance, for it stimulates the learning process, widening the scope of juvenile perception and correlating many other projects which have been previously undertaken. T h e programs include little plays, frequently written and staged and, of course, acted by the children. There are also drawings and pet exhibitions, the pets sometimes being taken to live for several days in the classroom, where they are subjects of admiring study by the entire body of pupils. In the so-called "modern" schools, wherein the children


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are permitted individually to undertake any useful activity they choose, with the teachers standing by to see that they maintain their interest and so stick to their declared purposes, one never knows quite what to expect in the way of projects. T h e

youngsters learn reading and writing


sawing boxes; geography through planting gardens; arithmetic while they compose music; and amazingly so forth. T h e y startled me with one spontaneous venture during Boys' Week. I learned of it just about two hours before the event, when I beheld youngsters going to school carrying cats and birds and other small creatures and leading dogs. Investigation disclosed the reason. Some youngster had suddenly proposed holding a pet show, and the idea had evoked such enthusiasm that the undertaking was begun forthwith. I injected myself into the affair with many misgivings, only to be greatly pleased with both the excellence of the plan and the efficiency of its execution. M y excuse for breaking in was to award some hastily collected prizes. T h e show proper was held in the gymnasium, and the animals which were unlikely to harmonize were


separately. T h e opportunities to comment on well-cared-for pets and to praise unusual interests, such as white mice, turtles, and snakes, together with the vast enthusiasm of the children and the high approbation of the teachers ended all my qualms. W h e n the show was over, the principal expressed his own pleasure to me, stating that it was one of the most successful learning projects which the children in his school had ever carried out. Notes from my publicity file explain to some extent how we made our awards. "Frederick Schmitz," it appears [so the clipping from our local paper reads, and I give the names as they actually appeared] "won first prize because

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his beautifully cared-for collie showed such undeniable love for his master. As every school child knows, from reading the story of the famous Dog of Montargis, the attitude of a dog toward those around him shows unmistakably the characters of those persons. Dana Forkum's entry once was a sick, unwanted dog condemned to the gas tank. Rescued in the nick of time, the black-and-tan is now a healthy, happy animal, amply reciprocating the love of his master. Harry Wiehle's four kittens were interpreted in terms of his long-sustained reputation for kindness in befriending all stray animals. Meryl Grady's black tomcat was a symbol of the same sort, for Meryl is one of the hardest-working Young Defenders in the local society, having won especial mention for the intelligence of his service. John Heiss's rabbit proved John to be an attentive owner, with his heart not preoccupied with self. William Moloski was remarked as an animal lover by the absolute trust and fearlessness of the splendid mother cat which he proudly exhibited. And Frederick Schmidt, of South Broadway, owner of the turtle, has long been known to the Society as a prince of the animal kingdom, with an interest in dumb creatures which discriminates no more in favor of turtles than it does against dogs, horses and birds." Y O U T H M U S T BE SERVED

A favorite device for impressing children with humane ideas has long been to hold up their heroes as animal lovers. For them to know that Babe Ruth, T o m Mix, and Douglas Fairbanks are kind to dumb creatures no doubt awakens their desire to emulate; but I feel that, after all, it is better to persuade them to be kind to animals because it is the right thing to do than to trick them into it just


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because a public idol has set the fashion. When the popularity of the idol begins to decline the associated ideals are likely to fade, too. Stimulating emulation is a useful method, but I prefer to assign it only a subordinate place in the humane campaign. Please do not construe this as a reflection on the Jack London Clubs, which were named after a great animal lover and were formed for the express purpose of combating cruelty in training animals for exhibition. They are not conducted for children alone, but number many adults among their members. Moreover, the educator doubts that extreme enthusiasms on the part of children are useful teaching devices. Emotions are generally injurious. A state of excitement is not conducive to the best use of the child's reasoning powers. It encourages him to establish false standards of value. For that same reason it is unwise to relate to children highly emotional stories, and here it is well to caution against trying to awaken the humane feeling of children by telling them the horrors of cruelty. At the same time, this does not preclude the use of serious narratives about the hard lives of many little creatures and the pluck with which they carry on; for such stories arouse respect for the animals rather than just the somewhat pharisaical, superior feeling called "pity." If I were asked to name the best general objectives in talking about humane work to school children, I could think offhand of none more useful than those which have guided us. They may be summarized in the statement that we want each child to be humane because he, personally, is convinced that it is the right thing to do. We approach

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the subject in various ways, depending on the circumstances, but our aim remains the same. " T h e best proof that you really have the qualities which go to make an upright, fine character to be pointed out to others as an example worth following," we tell the youngster, "is that you can show yourself that you can be fair, loyal, and kind without compulsion and without applause. When a big boy doesn't bully a little fellow just because he's able to get away with it or a girl whose parents can afford to give her a pretty dress doesn't turn up her nose at another girl whose parents can't afford to give her a dress like it, that is partial proof that one is the right sort. But the great test of worth-while character is your kindness to an animal which can't praise you and which can't do very much about it if you're unkind." T h a t is how the argument runs. T h e precise phrasing here may involve negative teaching, whereas the canons of teacher training call for the reverse; the words may be generally outside the vocabularies for children at certain age levels; but I am sure that the fundamental thinking is constructive and right, not only for children of any age, but for adults from maturity to the grave. It is a particularly effective argument with the Girl and Boy Scouts, who attach so much importance to honor. One of the surest ways to shame a lad guilty of cruelty, I find, is to say, "Of course you're not a Boy Scout; no real Boy Scout would ever do what you've done." Humane work is prescribed for the Scouts. T h e Girl Scouts include a pledge of kindness to animals in their formal vows; and in the Boy Scout Manual may be found these words: "Another Scout trait is that of thoughtfulness,


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even to animals; not merely the thoughtfulness that eases a horse from the pain of a badly fitting harness, or that gives food and drink to an animal that is in need, but also that which keeps a boy from throwing a stone at a cat or tying a tin can on a dog's tail. If a boy does not prove his thoughtfulness and friendship for animals, it is quite certain that he never will be really helpful to his comrades, or to the men, women and children who may need his care." The Girl and Boy Scouts, however, respond most quickly to talks on first aid to animals, for their cardinal aim is helpfulness to others. OUTSIDE THE SCHOOLS

This brings up more expressly the matter of humane education outside the schools. Opportunities for that are manifold and must be seized, so to speak, on the wing. We caught one when a boys' club in a poor section of our village wanted cross-word puzzles and we presented them with a number of animal subjects. Opportunities suggest themselves; and that is fortunate, because local conditions vary too greatly for general recommendations. I do not know, for instance, that a certain children's club, conducted by a lady in the city nearest us, would flourish as beautifully elsewhere. It comes to mind because its operation is the nearest, in my experience, to a regular school activity which is still not under the jurisdiction of educational authorities. It is called the Lend-A-Hand Club. Mrs. Anna May Peabody (her real name), who organized it and conducts it, is a former Boston school teacher who loves animals. It is given over expressly to humane education after school hours. Members are adolescent neighbor-

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hood children of about eight to twelve years of age. T h e y meet twice a month. Sessions are diversified in character, ranging from singing periods to nature study hikes, but everything revolves around the be-kind-to-animals idea, just as in the progressive schools to which I referred a short time back, the pupils choose their own activities, out of which the teachers evoke interests in literature, geography, and so forth. T w o activities regularly conducted in Mrs. Peabody's club, which I feel are worthy of especial mention, are making up scrapbooks of animal stories and pictures for children in hospital wards and rolling bandages for use at the S.P.C.A. clinics. Another opportunity for direct humane education outside the weekday classroom is in the church, notably in the Sabbath School. Its success there depends largely upon the attitude of the minister, the priest, or the rabbi, for even with regard to a matter so spiritual as a universal compassion the churchmen are not all friendly—some in nearly every creed being even a little hostile and holding the opinion that heaven has no place for animals. I am thinking now of one little minister whose first charge was a struggling Lutheran church in our village. I asked him to refer to an approaching Be-Kind-to-Animals Week from his pulpit, and when he demurred I reminded him that the subject was important enough for an annual sermon by the Reverend S. Parkes Cadman, then head of the Federation of Churches of Christ in America. His retort was that he never thought much of Cadman anyway. T o which my woman's last word was that if he could do onequarter as much good in the world as Dr. Cadman, he


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might get down on his knees and thank God. I knew what I was talking about, too, for Dr. Cadman was once my own pastor. T h e children's pet show would seem to be an excellent opportunity for occasional humane education. In the adjoining city every year the Boys' Club of the Knights of Columbus celebrates Boys' Week with an affair of this character, welcoming the cooperation of the S.P.C.A., inviting its directors to serve as judges, and giving them a place on the program as platform speakers without restrictions. Each annual show is attended by nearly a thousand persons, including the competitors, their families, and their friends. There are some seventy-five assorted prizes, chief among them being a fine silver cup; and the manager of a local theater donates a recent motion picture for the evening. Despite so much apparent success, repeated experiences with such undertakings have made me dubious about all indiscriminate pet shows. Our animal exhibition at the village school had the advantage of teacher discipline, which is necessarily lacking at the Knights of Columbus show. When I attend the latter, I always have our agent on hand to pick up the sick and stray animals which heartless urchins have snatched for the occasion in order to be in on the fun. It is common to find unweaned kittens there, as well as unruly, vicious dogs. Birds and fish, cats, dogs, chickens, snails, snakes, and alligators are represented, many in a state of constant terror from the inevitable shuffling of species when being moved. I visit exhibits and exhibitors as diligently as may be, advising here and there and, I hope, spreading the good word, but I greatly fear that from our standpoint the disadvantages are too great. Nor must I omit reference to our occasional contacts with

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the supposedly incorrigible boys of a well-known reform school just beyond our village boundary. We never try to break into the curriculum there, but our opinion of the inmates is much higher than is held by some other villagers, chiefly because the boys themselves reported to us the cruelty of an employee to a faithful old horse which helped in the heavy labors on the reservation. W e have found more incorrigible youngsters, by far, moving freely about our village streets. Our procedure with most of these is to send Cutler to lecture them, and, what is of greater moment, to talk to their parents. If I have not remarked before that Cutler in his uniform is an impressive figure, permit me to say so now; and this impressive appearance, supplemented by his decisive manner and familiarity with ordinary laws, is usually enough to wilt our toughest juvenile offenders. T H E HOME I N F L U E N C E

Much is written and said in the field of education about the effect of the home environment on the child; but in our work, certainly, there is room for a volume concerning the effect of the child on the home. T h e children who are reached by our efforts in the various directions which have been mentioned, are marvelously helpful to us in carrying our gospel to firesides otherwise virtually barred to us. There are especially the foreign-language homes, where an American-born child is the principal and sometimes the only avenue of approach for our native ideas. T o be sure, there is little or no trouble, in this respect, with better-class aliens. These, indeed, are often more helpful than our own people; for, in several lands across the sea humane work for animals is more of an institution than


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it is with us. T h e illiterates, however, form gross misconceptions of our society. For example, they will not surrender their animals to us no matter how ill or injured they may be, because, they think, all we do is to kill them. Despite their own bloody violences, they want no complicity in taking life. Well, the children break down such prejudices. During the fantastic period of liquor prohibition, children unwittingly opened the way for us to animal relief in many speakeasies frequented by foreigners, where an officer of any kind would normally have been barred. Mothers of those children, on their way to their work as cleaning women, for which they were hired by the day, would stop at my home in the morning and leave me animals in need of our attention, sometimes picking them up on their way home at night. These mothers frequently, too, carried our propaganda into other benighted homes, that is, the places where they worked—fine homes, sometimes, where selfish living had kept inmates from knowing about local institutions of mercy. So it was that the children helped us again. You see, animals and children belong together. There may be cruelty in giving animals to very young children to maul and maltreat, but after the beginning of the age of reason an animal pet for a youngster is one of the finest character-building forces in the world. In 1927 a public official in a large Long Island town who was endeavoring to enforce a muzzling ordinance, declared that dogs were just a luxury which could very well be spared. He was dead wrong. Without talking about dogs alone and the especial services which they render, animal pets in general are among man's most valuable civilizing influences. Merely to have an animal pet, to have its freely given

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love, devotion, and understanding is a great and precious privilege. T h e only regrettable thing about this is that many an animal is obliged to suffer agonies before its master or mistress has learned to rule with justice.


The Wherewithal to Do W I T H the completion of our tenth year as a village humane society I began really to measure our experience. Somehow —maybe it is just our decimal system—ten years is a milestone which one does not pass at top speed. It is a signal to halt and reflect. I stopped briefly, but as I reflected, I went on again. In fact, it took me two years more to arrive at settled convictions about what we had done.

My first reaction was to be despondent. Although the tenth year showed a tenfold increase in the number of cases—three thousand in contrast with approximately three hundred for the first year—our number of workers was not noticeably greater; and then, besides, the status of our service was still on the basis of sweet charity. T h e implication was that if we some day stopped our begging, browbeating, and sacrificing, the whole movement would fall to pieces. With such tragedy impending, could we make any real claim to progress? On more careful thought I was sure that we might. After what we had done there might come an outward disintegration if we disbanded, but the humane influence had permeated the community fabric so far that our villagers never could fall back to the complete indifference which I had encountered in 1921. T h a t was a little advance, even if it was insufficient return for the price we had paid. But what I concluded to be our most useful, earned increment

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was not to be rated in terms of benefits to our own village. Indeed, it was not much good to anyone unless it could be brought to the attention of those who might then profit. I refer to the lessons our experience had taught us, and this present record of our struggles to establish our little S.P.C.A. is the medium through which I earnestly hope that the better organization of similar groups may be inspired throughout the length and breadth of this fair land. T o indulge in that hope is not necessarily futile. Our situation has been extraordinary in that it has blended in one village circumstances peculiar to many different types of community. Wherever you live, we probably have had conditions paralleling yours. W e have a climate ranging from tropic heat to arctic cold. We have suburban problems, our village being actually part of New York's so-called "Metropolitan Area." We have markedly rural sections with farms and some woodland in which small animals and an occasional large one native to the soil still run wild. W e have hills and meadows. W e have an imposing water front, for the channel of the Hudson River is still deep enough at that inland point to accommodate an occasional ocean steamer, and over it fly seagulls, wild ducks, and now and then an eagle or a crane. W e have clusters of bungalows occupied by commuters, estates of wealthy landowners, smart apartment houses, and tenements to hold a considerable factory population. In addition to factories we have churches and stores, two railroad divisions, and a couple of bus lines. We have Swedes, Germans, French, Poles, Lithuanians, Italians, Portuguese, and more. We have a modest aristocracy. In close proximity are orphanages, a state prison, a sanitarium, convents and seminaries, parochial schools, country clubs, and, more


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directly concerning animals, a biological laboratory, kennels, and one of the most celebrated dog and cat cemeteries in the world. T h e list might be carried on indefinitely. Our opportunities to view our especial interests in action are surely exceptional, and the observations certainly should apply over a wide field. T H E A B I L I T Y T O CARRY ON

One of the most searching questions raised by the examination of our case history is whether or not the movement we have started has any vitality. W e say that the community could not revert to a state of mind as deplorable as that existing when we began, but has the awakened sentiment any momentum which we ourselves have not supplied? T o prove the point, could we—we who have pioneered in this —could we pull out from under and expect the humane work to go on? Even if one might suppose direct cruelty to be at an end—and this is a very improbable supposition —there still are sure to be animals run down by automobiles, dumb creatures stricken with disease, injured birds, kittens to be destroyed, and so forth. I look over the personnel of our active membership, and I wonder. Not that I lack confidence in our officers, for they are as dependable, I dare say, as may be found in similar circumstances anywhere. T h e original personnel has changed. Several of our pioneers have left us long since. Mrs. Roy went off to California several years ago, although just recently she returned; Lola Vokes has moved to New York; and Mrs. T a t e is otherwise engaged. Mrs. Westergren has become less active, although we still receive occasional proofs of her continued interest. Mrs. Victor—she who used to shelter the collected dogs until the city dog

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catcher could take them away in his car and whose son Raymond, now a fine young man, drove our "float" in the holiday parade—never has wavered in her willingness to help; but there has been less demand for her generous service. Others have joined us since then, been faithful friends for several years, and have moved to distant places, carrying, however, the humane message to other communities. Dorothy Morgan was my next-door neighbor and good right hand during some of our most difficult seasons, yet came the day when she had to leave us. Her new home is not as remote as are the homes of some of the others, and I occasionally have opportunity to know about the transformation wrought in the new place by her fine influence. It would scarcely be just to say that these friends have pulled out from under, because they still carry on their humane work through other channels. Loss of their splendid service was noticeable, of course, but others came providentially to replace them. Ada Brite was one of our earliest blessings in this way, and her husband, Jim, while not directly concerned in our management, became a stanch supporter, too. Still others were discovered. O n a back street are Mr. and Mrs. Montclair, an elderly couple who, though living precariously, still manage to share their reduced income with the little creatures they love. There is Mrs. Brack, situated in an area of poverty, illiteracy, and congestion, a sentinel of the Lord on behalf of animals, if ever there was one. Mrs. Donlin is another—in a section almost as difficult. In a little cottage atop the heights are Andrew Mill and his wife, animal lovers, both, and he is notable for having tried to act as humane agent in a neighboring


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town, until he found that the distress which his own compassion forced him to alleviate, in addition to that in his direct line of duty, was costing him more than his salary. We have a gratifying number of animal lovers such as these, and they go on with their work of mercy irrespective of any organization. As noble as any have been the maids who have belonged at various times to our household. Naturally enough I would never engage a maid who did not care for animals. But the predilection of one who did like them would soon develop in the atmosphere of our humane work, and before long she would be in the thick of it on her own account. I always made it clear that her good deeds were not in my service, but entirely on her own responsibility. Meet Catherine Peterka. It is her real name, and I set it down in her honor. Catherine, who has been with me now for five active years, asked one day recently if she might attend a first-aid talk to be given by a veterinary surgeon before some S.P.C.A. leaders, bringing with her another maid, a friend of hers, that both might learn the better to help. I mention this just to illustrate the pervading spirit. Catherine's humane labors are as good and as extensive as those of any person in our village, and she has not confined them to our village either, having carried them forcefully back home at vacation time to the little Pennsylvania mining town where she was born. Sophie Sosky (it is her actual name, too) was a former maid. She left us after a long period, but I receive proofs every now and then from outlying communities that Sophie was not humane just for me. In the interval between Sophie and Catherine, Elizabeth Richvalsky served with

The Wherewithal to Do


equal distinction. After all this time has elapsed, she called on me just this morning to see if I had a kitten for her—a kitten which she hoped might resemble the one she had reared and loved so much when she was with me. The trouble with all these incorrigible animal lovers is the same as mine. I find the individual animal problems crying too loudly for me to give proper attention to the broad aspects of the animal problem. That is why so few of us have the executive ability necessary for efficient organization. Knowing that, in considering the future of our village society, I look most hopefully to those whose love of animals is not too overwhelming for their capacity to judge. In the years to come our best leader undoubtedly will be one who refuses to waste on one case the attention which will benefit thousands when more broadly focused. I freely admit, therefore, that in our personnel are to be found several ladies who are not ardent animal lovers. They have compassion for dumb creatures, of course, but not the sort which makes them oblivious to all else in the call to duty. I welcomed them at first as links of understanding between our burning enthusiasm and the careless attitude of the general public. I see now that they may be more: they may be guides and protectors for self-effacing Mr. and Mrs. Montclair, Mrs. Brack, Mrs. Donlin, Mr. and Mrs. Andrew Mill, and my perplexed self. We do not want too much burning zeal. It is dangerous, Our executive board therefore comprises ladies who are able to serve in various other ways. Take Miss Nelson; she cares for animals sufficiently to be one of us in spirit, but the qualifications which we particularly value are her social


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refinements, which make her a priceless hostess when we hold our benefit affairs. She once served as secretary, but for that place a likely person, too, was Mrs. Goertz, who, apart from her love for dogs, has business ability and has at her finger tips the routine of keeping useful records. Mrs. Naylor also was remarkable for a charming presence. Her warm heart found place for many animals, yet to us she was worth even more because of her ability and willingness to write and place our publicity stories, because of her political activity, and because she was ready always to carry our humane message into the Roman Catholic Church, of which her brother is a beloved priest. Mrs. Monet is a Catholic, too, ready always to second Mrs. Naylor in her church activities, with the added virtue of being able to promote humane education in the schools. Teaching is the profession of Miriam Spratt. She is a drawing instructor in our local schools with opportunities to spread humane ideas. T h i s is with the full approval of Mrs. Green, principal of the primary grades, who, while not of our executive board, does many things to assist. Another publicity friend is Mrs. Gordon James, who supplemented her good work as an animal lover by mothering a son who was, until recently, the sympathetic correspondent of a daily newspaper in the adjoining city. Reverting to our board, I think of Mrs. Flower. Among Edith's many virtues one is outstanding: she is a marvelous organizer. A n d when it comes to membership drives and benefit affairs, what—oh, what—would we do without her! For that matter, what would we do without Mrs. Barringer? But Mrs. Barringer is so much of a real worker for animals that I hesitate to say that her social graces come first. Other names come to my mind—but why enumerate?

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My viewpoint on all this is another direct result of experience. About the time of our tenth anniversary I suffered a severe illness, which compelled my withdrawal from the presidency for nearly a year. T w o of our outstanding animal lovers took command, and being themselves so thoroughly convinced of the righteousness of our cause, they did not bother to discuss differences of opinion with any outsider, but decided all problems on emotional impulse. In a month or two our good standing was sadly impaired. T h e village authorities were antagonized, the police avoided our service, newspapers limited our space, schools received our advances coldly, and Mr. Cutler threatened resignation. Fortunately, there were enough votes left with the board of directors to restore the balance at the next election; but it took hard work on the part of those who agreed that life is made up of many factors besides our especial interest to reestablish the entente cordiale. When I again accepted the presidency, for the sake of keeping the pieces together, there were plenty of persons to tell me that the society just could not exist without my leadership. But far from accepting that as the compliment which it was intended to be, I was genuinely disturbed by it, because if I had builded so poorly that in my absence the structure would fall, then I had failed in my original intention to found an organization which would function irrespective of any one person. From that day forth I worked to withdraw from the presidency—in order to convince myself that I had not failed. It was essential, however, that when I resigned I should be able to say that the society would continue. If I had to acknowledge failure, I preferred to go down with the wreck. I regret to admit, however, that five years later I am still president.

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H a v i n g a fair n u m b e r of officers w h o could integrate o u r interest in animals w i t h the many other important unrelated interests of life, was in m y favor. T h e y



keep the p u b l i c in a receptive, sympathetic frame of m i n d , thus easing the self-imposed tasks of animal lovers


have neither patience nor time to make excuses. T h e y c o u l d concentrate, if they liked, o n finance. A n efficient organization

needs money.


has to pay

for food


medicine for starving a n d i n j u r e d animals; sometimes transportation must be p a i d for in items such as taxi fares; w e need printed stationery as an important show of authority, and the printer cannot always deliver it for nothing; there are countless telephone calls; above all there is the sum of $150 per a n n u m for C u t l e r . M o n e y is needed, and yet few societies can say how they w o u l d spend it if they h a d it. A great many charity groups (and I regret to say that our little society has to b e l o n g to that category, a l t h o u g h government should h e l p to support it as a public service) b e g their way out of virtually every item of expense. I mean that they will not pay directly for a one-cent stamp or a bottle of ink. A f t e r v i e w i n g w h a t happens to them as a result of that attitude—their fall from p u b l i c esteem a n d the inroads u p o n their self-respect—I emphatically


to pay our way as far as possible. Even w h e n we raise m o n e y at our a n n u a l benefit bridge and tea, you w i l l recall that w e strive to give each guest f u l l money's worth. T o d o less w o u l d be to earn the b r a n d of cheapness, a stigma w h i c h invites contempt and leads to ruin. T h e name of fair dealing, o n the other hand, creates an impression of strength —and this is o n e more item to sustain respect for a society

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which "does things." T h e precious society funds are expended; but they all come back, you see. Of course, the money must come from somewhere in the first place, and while the fact that it comes from everywhere but the rightful chief source—namely, the village corporation—makes me resentful; we cannot be haughty about our acceptances. We hold out our little tin cup, in a manner of speaking, and with at least a show of gratitude receive the few pennies upon which the society subsists, frankly because it is the expedient thing to do. Yet that does not prevent our knowing how uneconomic it is. And when you yourself think of it—is it not uneconomic? Consider any phase of our endeavors. You hear about our cake sales, for which a number of ladies make cakes to be purchased by an equal number of other ladies. T h e cakes go to the purchasers, and the money comes to us. Credit for benevolence then goes to those who receive full value for their money, and hardly any credit is given to those who provided the ingredients for the cakes and did the actual making. T h e local baker, whose business is temporarily disrupted by this procedure, is also usually invited to contribute cakes. A topsy-turvy, unreasonable, absurd system I At our annual bridge and tea we are expected to provide cards, tables, table prizes, and refreshments, which together could not be bought for the ticket price at any reputable hotel. Even when we enroll a new member, we have to let him think that the payment of two dollars entitles him to special privileges, although they do not really differ from the privileges of any other lawabiding citizen. A person who never heard of The S.P.C.A. has an equal right to cause the arrest of anyone who is cruel to an animal. T h e situation does not make sense.


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What I ask is, "Why should our fellow villagers have to resort to these roundabout, wasteful methods, these hollow fictions, to support a manifest community service, especially since when all is said and done such support is so meager?" In our village there are some seventy-five hundred souls. If we could have only five cents per year from each, we would have more than twice the sum raised by our present, unhappy, strained labors to obtain minimum funds. I have little faith in S.P.C.A. membership drives as money-raising expedients. Of course, it is splendid to have as many members as possible. What I mean is that I have found that it takes more energy to enroll ten persons, let us say, than it does to round up a hundred for a benefit bridge. You encounter what business men would call a double sales resistance. First you appeal to the prospect's interest in animals; then, building on that awakened sentiment, you ask him to give some of his hard-earned money. For this he receives nothing but a glow of satisfaction. If the glow fails to materialize, he will not join next year; and if it does materialize, he will probably think that he has done his share for the next decade. Besides, you must explain to him individually and personally just what you are doing with the amount received, and probably also it will be necessary to discuss with him a plan which he thinks is better. And, when the end of the twelve-month period again approaches, this whole discouraging rigmarole must be repeated. Sometimes our enrolled supporter specifies just what his two dollars are to benefit. I have known that to happen merely in selling tickets for a benefit bridge. A lady, the wife of a distinguished scientist, herself well known for many charitable acts, once sent a check for tickets in a

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letter stating that she did not want her money spent for prizes, but for animal welfare. I confess to returning a rather sharp reply; but I am happy to record the additional fact that she then sent an apologetic note and a second check for more tickets. T a c t is an ever-present need in any sort of drive for funds. Our newer associates in management always have to learn that, just as I did. They are so certain that their original campaign has overthrown all opposition that when the next affair comes along they treat the appeal for funds as a routine matter. As is done in most charitable associations, we make verbal distinctions, involving various prices, between the garden grade of membership, "associate" members and "auxiliary" members, with occasional designations such as "sustaining" member, "active" member, "honorary" member, "supporting" member, and "life" member, as and when permitted in our by-laws. T o become a "patron" is to have another opportunity for giving money to charity. One lady emphasized her good will toward us, some years ago, by taking out an associate membership at five dollars. When our new secretary undertook to solicit renewals, she sent to this friend a bill for five dollars more for "annual dues." It came back in a rush. T h e secretary brought it to me almost in tears because, in the same envelope with it, was a scorching letter from the lady's husband, repudiating the bill, denying that his wife ever had obligated herself as we had assumed, and above all, voicing a highly unfavorable opinion of our business methods. I managed to correct this impression with an apologetic explanation to this effect: T h e first five dollars had been


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given to us during a membership drive, and lacking precise instruction, we had acknowledged it as being in the "associate" class. Membership, of course, continues from year to year unless resignation is offered and accepted. Had we known the true sentiment in the case mentioned, we would have acknowledged the money as a "donation," and there would have been an end to the matter. T h e reference to "true sentiment" was a soft impeachment which probably thrust home. But the lady's husband was quite right. We were not businesslike; if we had been, we never would have placed so much dependence on this wretched and wasteful method of begging for charity, especially since—as I have said and intimated so often—we should not be begging and our support should not be charity. Efficient advertising could help to rectify this matter. If money for subsistence is to be so hedged in by conditions, real or fancied, specified or tacitly assumed, it is abundantly clear that the public is not convinced of the importance of your character and objectives. T h e situation proves the real place of your society in community esteem. It may be proof also that your group is better off without contributions from persons who think that their begrudged dollars have purchased them the right to dictate your ideals and control your service. In New York City T h e A.S.P.C.A. used to receive all fines imposed by the magistrates' courts in animal cruelty cases. T h e S.P.C.A. itself now declines to accept the fees, referring them, I believe, to the police benefit fund. T h e reason is that during the time when the old arrangement was in effect, officers of the law were not generally much interested in convictions. Most offenders brought to the bar were

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freed under suspended sentences. Operation of the new plan has brought a gratifying number of convictions and a correspondingly more wholesome respect for the society. We concur in the wisdom of this, and yet we did share once in a village award. W e had given a stray dog to a resident lawyer, and one day, when the animal crossed a neighbor's lawn, the neighbor shot it. T h e dog lived to be carried home and there died about twenty minutes later; an important point, because if an animal is not killed instantly, or, as in the instance of humane destruction, with reasonable promptness, it may be proved to have suffered and a cruelty charge may be brought by the S.P.C.A. Aware of all this, the lawyer opened action against the neighbor and won fifty dollars. He gave us half. In the same broadminded spirit he never has attempted, on the strength of his gift, to dictate concerning our operations. And now, having set down my conviction of how our little world ought to be run, I continue with the more practical advice that it can be run most successfully in a spirit of compromise. It would not be a good thing at all for government to pay for the entire operation of the S.P.C.A. If it did, the next natural step would be for government to control its policies. If it paid the bills, it surely would have the right to supervise expenditures. T h a t might be satisfactory, too, but for two important considerations: first, that in the complex machinery of government such a relatively small function would become a mere incidental duty with virtually a nuisance rating; and second, that the service might become so impersonal that the citizen would not be kept alive to his responsibility to his own animals. For work of our kind, therefore, it is emphatically necessary to keep the control in private hands. At the same time,


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the government should be made constantly to feel its responsibility. So it seems to me that the small-town S.P.C.A. should be sustained always directly by means of the contributions of the citizens and indirectly through reasonable appropriations by their government. According to that arrangement the work will cost less, be more efficiently and more humanely conducted, and will more quickly evolve an enlightened people. THE IDEA SPREADS FURTHER

When our little society had been in operation four or five years, inquiries began to filter in from lone humane workers in outlying communities, who wanted to know how they could organize similar groups. Of course, they did not suspect what a struggle we ourselves were having, and, in truth, we did not want them to know. We always have tried—until now, perhaps—to make our society look as imposing as possible from the outside. At that time we had no background of experience, such as we subsequently acquired, from which a really useful case history might be compiled and studied. All we could advise inquirers to do was to band all local compassionate persons and share the direct burden with them. As to their following our particular path closely, we told them, that would be rather futile, because circumstances are different in other places. Nevertheless, despite the discouragement thus contained in our counsel, the inquirers took heart from the very fact that we were a going concern. It is really possible after all, they seemed to say, for the movement to break through the crust of small-town indifference. In the village directly north of us was a lady of social prominence who determined to have another local group-

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She had heard of us through Mrs. Roy at one of the county Girl Scout functions, and she proceeded to invite me to the Woman's Club in her community to tell the members about what we had done. I make my account circumstantial just to show how deviously things come about. Anyway, protesting that I was no speechmaker but would try at least to answer questions, I attended the meeting and helped, so Mrs. Haucke told me later, to make her village "S.P.C.A.-conscious." In introducing you to her, by the way, I am using her real name. Mrs. Haucke had as her particular advantage over us a large number of wealthy neighbors. They were fairly soon persuaded to assist in founding her society. Most of them would not, however, assist Mrs. Haucke in the physical labor of harboring strays, disposing of unwanted animals, administering first aid, and the like. They helped her to obtain an automobile ambulance and to pay for the services of an agent to run it. But she had difficulties, such as we had, in battling village trustees, finding opportunities for humane education, and in other phases of the work which I need not describe again. Evangeline has made a valiant fight and today, with her agent and ambulance, she has expanded her field of service to include two adjoining villages. T h e names of all three villages enable her to make a happy word of their initial letters, "A.I.D." In one of the villages a lady whom I present as Miss Bandman has long been the humane leader. She attended the Girl Scout affair where Mrs. Roy told Mrs. Haucke about us. She became a director on Mrs. Haucke's board and no doubt had much to do with the subsequent merger. On the board also was Mrs. Ellwood Clark, secretary of the Millennium Guild, an antivivisectionist group which is


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known to many for its wide distribution of a humane book entitled Selections from Three Essays by Wagner. In a town still farther north we heard of an elderly minister who could not endure to see animals suffer. Unfortunately, he has died since then. North of that is a city where a lady whom we shall call Mrs. Strayer is the outstanding worker. You see, there always seems to be some one person to direct the others. In all events, these various humanitarians heard about us, and, in one way or another, were encouraged by what we had done. We gladly passed our lessons along. T h e more humane persons working actively about us, the greater our assurance that cruelty to animals would one day subside. I should be remiss, indeed, were I not to chronicle the splendid work of Walter Scott Shinn, well known photographer of children, in the communities immediately north of Mrs. Haucke's domain. Mr. Shinn, stirred by the manifest needs of that community, determined to revive the dormant S.P.C.A. there, which had been in corporate existence for many years. One of the chief handicaps, he found, was that the directors, including the executive officers, could not be replaced except in case of their resignation or death. By intensive personal campaigning he inspired the directors with fresh enthusiasm and persuaded the officials of some five neighboring towns to accept a modern, well-financed plan of operation. T o him, for his almost single-handed accomplishment, I bow. As early as 1931 constructive efforts were begun to band the struggling little humane groups together. These efforts originated mainly in the communities east of us, on the shore of Long Island Sound and along the southern boun-

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dary of the state of Connecticut, where humane work had been carried on efficiently for years, and where our humble group was scarcely even a name. So it was not our privilege to inaugurate this unification. In those communities were some notable champions, and I certainly do not mean to deprecate their efforts when I mention that they also had considerable wealth to back them up. For such folks to initiate the get-together movement was probably quite as it should be, because persons used to the management of large enterprises should be among the best qualified for efficient organization of the sort now needed. I wish that space permitted description of some of the splendid humane accomplishments in that quarter by local leaders such as Mrs. L. G. Bender, who is now continuing her inspired service on Long Island; Mr. Guy Forbes, Mrs. Sherman Craiger, Mrs. Harry E. Goeckler, and Mrs. W. D. Lee, originator of the excellent tag system for the quick identification and return of lost dogs, to name a few. Mere mention of their names will quickly remind many who have benefited from their unremitting labors of mercy. Probably every small humane organization in the county had dreamed of the potentialities of joining forces with the other groups nearby, that with the power thus gained they might awe politicians and compel their respect. But nothing significant was done about it until late in 1931. T h e principal credit for putting the thought into action should go to Sydney H. Coleman and William E. Bevan, then executive vice-president and general manager, respectively, of The American S.P.C.A. Mr. Coleman's predecessor as active head of the New York Society, William K. Horton, who had been so helpful in counseling us when we started,


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had died suddenly a few years earlier when Mr. Coleman was general manager of T h e American Humane Association, at Albany, N. Y. Mr. Coleman and Mr. Bevan having heard of the expressed inclination of our county groups to join in common council, urged us to assemble for that purpose. So, a little later, delegates from about ten scattered S.P.C.A.'s met with these gentlemen one evening in the rooms of the Young Women's Christian Association at the county seat. T h e result was the formation of the County Animal Protective League, the delegates to which sought to exchange views and helpful information and to work toward the establishment of certain common facilities, such as a central animal shelter, county field agents, and circuit teachers of humane education. Each group continued to be, of course, an independent society in its own community. T h e association was not a merger, you see, but a league. Each society represented paid ten dollars apiece annually for its two delegates, and any action of general importance was taken up through committees appointed for short-term service. Regular monthly meetings were scheduled, and they were sometimes graced by guest speakers who talked on phases of animal welfare. T h e immediate effect was certainly a more enlightened operation for us all. In the first place, we had opportunity to obtain the latest authoritative information on our work; and, secondly, we received very necessary lessons on how to conduct business-like sessions. T h e league form of organization was much more advisable at this time than a consolidation would have been. Every group—our own included—was far short of its goal, and no two groups were agreed on the precise ways in

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which to attack major problems. T o have merged under such circumstances would have subordinated all vital field work to interminable discussions over policy. INCORPORATION

But for the individual group there were many advantages in closer organization. T o be sure, we had demonstrated in the past dozen years that useful and important humane work might be done by a mere joining of hands; but we were fortunate throughout those years not to have any suits brought against us on charges, for example, of false arrest or unwarranted destruction of pets or violations of the Health Code by harboring too many strays, or prescribing for sick animals without a veterinary license. You see, we had thought of such possible embarrassments. When the independent, voluntary humane worker is clearly in the right, the central society probably will lend its powerful backing to the champion. At the same time it obviously cannot spend its precious energy rescuing unauthorized enthusiasts from troubles caused by their own impetuousness. If it did, there would be no time left for animal welfare—The American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals would spend its full time in the courts. So I am sure that it is better employed in rescuing animals than in rescuing misguided members. And remember, too, that when any little group which is not expertly organized is left to its own resources in a court action against it, the plaintiff may choose for his target any member of the body attempting to act for it. In other words, informally as our little society was set up, any one of our so-called officers might be made to pay heavily for the unofficial misstep of just one of the others.


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T h e unfortunate behavior of those w h o assumed control during my illness had made me more keenly aware of our vulnerability, but what really impelled us to organize in the more approved manner was the scandalous conduct of the dog wardens during the long rabies quarantine. State d o g wardens were employed only where the community was incapable of enforcing the law for itself, and we felt that with proper authority we might have administered the work more efficiently than it was administered by them. O u r obstacle was that, not being a regularly constituted body w e could not make a contract w i t h our village authorities. Moreover, with no legal responsibility as a group, we could not hope to reach one of o u r most important objectives, the operation of the pound. Indeed, even incorporation would not have helped had it not been for the first important constructive service of the new A n i m a l Protective League. Prior to the establishment of that confederation, the small communities in our state had had no powers to contract with their local humane societies. Under






Bevan, however, the league promptly initiated and ushered through the necessary legislation, and it fell to our society to be first to avail itself of the advantage. U n d e r the laws of our state the likeliest form of organization for us was the membership corporation. Previously, we had merely tried to conduct our monthly meetings in accordance with parliamentary law, guided by standby, Cushing's Manual.

the old

Following the recommenda-

tions of that blessed repository, we had our president, vicepresident, secretary, treasurer, and a fairly imposing set of paraphrased by-laws. W e kept what we called "minutes," and, I should say, were passably business-like about our

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procedure. Still, I doubt that our casual system would have sustained us had we really become involved in the law. Lola's husband—although Lola and he were living then in New York—was more than willing to help us to incorporate. He was, as you may remember, an expert accountant. T h a t meant that he had considerable knowledge of commercial law. Ada Brite's husband, whose work was similar, was also a possible aid. But, while we were debating about which qualified friend to summon, Mrs. Barringer's helpmate volunteered. His work was in the insurance field, where a specialized legal knowledge was of vast importance. An additional asset for us was that he had influence with our village fathers. Remember that one of our chief purposes in incorporating was to contract with them for operation and maintenance of the pound. After having gratefully accepted Mr. Barringer's offer to negotiate the incorporation for us, we wondered under what name it might be incorporated. In our county there already were two groups called Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals and one Humane Society. We thought of calling ourselves Animal Aid or Animal Protective Association, until Mr. Coleman said that in the light of our sustained record of service T h e American S.P.C.A. itself would permit us the exceptional privilege of incorporating as a suburban chapter and using its name. We naturally hailed this suggestion with a unanimous vote of acceptance—although our first reaction was not unanimous, for there was some talk about the merit of "standing on our own feet" and not being a mere branch of any other group. These objections soon subsided in the comfortable feeling that we might now claim the backing of the strongest S.P.C.A. of all. We never have regretted this choice.


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Mr. Barringer at once began his work, using the intervals in days which were already filled with his own work. T h e certificate of incorporation was prepared, and we appointed twelve directors to serve until the first annual meeting. They were obliged to sign before a notary as subscribers to the certificate. We were not required to have twelve directors, but it was a convenient way for us to give formal recognition to twelve outstanding workers in our group. T h e next step was to approach a justice of the state Supreme Court, whose consent was required before filing. Our family physician chanced to be a close friend of one such dignitary, and through him, armed with copies of the prepared certificate and a letter of approval from Mr. Coleman of T h e A.S.P.C.A., I reached the judge and explained our case. His gracious approbation given, the complicated procedure of filing at the state Capitol was carried through by Mr. Barringer and the late Mr. Nathaniel J. Walker, of T h e American Humane Association. Presently we were vested with our new authority involving new responsibilities. Thanks to Mr. Barringer and Mr. Walker, who donated their services, our only money outlay was some forty dollars for registration fees, a very low price, I should say, for an exceedingly necessary insurance. T h e village duly entered into contract with us for the collection, impounding, and any necessary destruction of stray and unlicensed dogs and unwanted cats; and, after a reasonable test period, they complimented us and renewed the arrangement. W e fulfilled the contract by subletting it at once to the County Animal Protective League, which in turn provided the animal ambulances to serve the member groups, respectively, on different days of the week. A shelter for impounding and care under humane

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supervision was maintained centrally, near the county seat. As we stand on this new threshold, I announce to the reader the beginning of the end of this record. What follows for us can be in the main only a repetition of experiences which already have befallen us. There will be new faces, new laws, new abuses—and new anecdotes—but the fundamentals will remain unchanged. We have had reason to know what these fundamentals should be. We also should be able to define those further opportunities which we should like to enjoy. THE COMPLETE H U M A N E SERVICE

Let us see briefly, first of all, how the scope of our work has been indicated in our new certificate. Our particular purposes or objects, for which the society was to be formed, were named therein as, "to provide humane protection, care and treatment of dumb animals by all proper and effective means throughout the territory in which the society shall operate; to foster kindness to dumb animals and to promote their welfare in every manner possible by humane education and otherwise; to purchase, print, publish and circulate such literature to promote kindness to animals and the work of this society; to provide, maintain and operate a shelter house and other necessary buildings, grounds and equipment therefor; to contract with a municipality to maintain and operate a shelter house for the use of said municipality; to accept and expend any money appropriated to it for the furtherance of its activities in any municipality, and to render first aid, place in homes, or humanely destroy any stray or unwanted animal." At this moment that summary seems specific enough and general enough. In the original constitution under which


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we operated during the dozen years, Article II said even more succinctly that our objectives were, "to prevent cruelty to animals, prosecute the offender, 1 and to promote humane education." But, apart from our questions merely of legal elbow room, I should like to be sure that if called upon we could give a really complete account of what a small town S.P.C.A. should be able to do. W e could start such a description on the premise that we should have at our disposal unlimited funds. But that would be unfair. T o have unlimited funds is nobody's right these days, and to propose the tempting extravagances which such a situation might suggest, would be of no value to the thousands of struggling little humane groups which this record is designed to help. At the same time, there is no valid reason for swinging to the other extreme, that is, of proposing a course based on no funds at all. W e may assume, rather, that in a certain reasonable measure support ought to come from every community at large. If the community is too small to warrant the given expenditure of the taxpayers' money, then the support should come from two communities. If there is no other village within reach or if the one which is near will not cooperate, then the work must proceed, as it commonly does, at the hands of a few compassionate persons w h o are amply repaid by the satisfaction which comes from seeing things done which the group believes ought to be done. I have jotted down some figures of the probable annual cost to our community if it should provide for a really thorough j o b with clinic, shelter, and all the rest of it. W e accomplish our present stint for about ?8oo a year, of which i Of course we realize now that organized prosecution is not properly within the province of the strictly " h u m a n e " society.

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$500 accrues from our contract with the village. T h e village, incidentally, receives much in return. After fifteen years, our twelvemonth total shows nearly 4,500 cases. But it does no harm to dream of more adequate funds—to set our goal posts on new horizons. It startles me that the dream figures add up to $5,000. But what matter? Compared with other "luxury" items in our village budget, the sum seems modest enough. And, besides, I am drawing a picture of an institution which would demand no sacrifice from any citizen and which would benefit animal lovers themselves as well as those who treat dumb creatures cruelly. This estimate of $5,000 I should like to call the lowest reasonable amount for the maintenance and operation of a community S.P.C.A. It might well be higher without extravagance. T o quote less would be to allow for an inadequate shelter, a badly underpaid agent, and probably, too, an insufficient coverage of the field. The work paid for by the $5,000 should serve a population of about ten thousand persons over an area not to exceed ten miles squareone hundred square miles, that is. The number of cases— and this, to be sure, is the real determining factor—is here set at 4,000 per year—nearly eleven cases per day at $1.25 per case. This "per case" item represents a rather onesided way of estimating, because the society deals in other services besides "cases"—humane education, for instance. T h e agent, who not only is to do field work but also is to be pound keeper as well, is not generously treated in my estimate. A mere thirty dollars or so per week is expected to compensate him for a fairly specialized knowledge and a readiness to answer emergency calls day and night—work days, Sundays, and holidays. Perhaps a few dollars saved


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elsewhere may be added to his wage. I recommend it. But I also know that in most communities there are persons who would be glad permanently to assume the duties at the thirty-dollar rate. Transportation is an item not to be overlooked. Even if the area to be covered is fairly small, a modern vehicle to carry the agent from case to case is worth while. Its use would allow more time for his humane services. A n agent may be authorized to take taxis for remote calls, but this quite surely will not solve the problem. T o be conveyed also are animal boxes and baskets, animals themselves, and first-aid materials. T i m e is also a vital factor in transporting injured creatures—or uninjured creatures, especially if temperatures are extremely hot or cold. O n e may object that this society cannot afford an automobile, but I still insist that an automobile is an excellent property to have. Under certain circumstances T h e American S.P.C.A. has assisted responsible humane groups to obtain automobile ambulances, but my estimate counts on no such godsend. T h e community ought to buy one, but should the automobile be simply out of the question, then consider the English example of using a motorcycle with a side car. If the direct work of the society is to be carried on by the agent alone, w h o is also to be the pound keeper and to spend much of his time in the field, obviously there should be some other person available to receive telephone calls and even now and then to administer first aid. It would be advantageous to have a boy or young man who will be a sort of subagent, trained under his superior officer and able in emergencies even to function in his place. T h e r e are many advantages in this arrangement, but only two need be mentioned—the relief of the agent during vacation

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periods and during his possible illness and the opportunity for handling two emergency situations at once. Another problem is a shelter. T h e usual shack is a sorry substitute, for a mere roof is not enough, and even the addition of a simple floor is insufficient. There must be walls, and those substantial enough to withstand the elements. Windows are needed, and doors in proper placeslight and air, in other words. Individual cages and stalls for the animals to be detained are essential, which is to say that the inmates should be segregated and made comfortable. Sanitary arrangements, ventilation, and heating require careful attention. So do the lethal chamber and the operating room for the clinic. Have some friendly architect tell you about those thing3. There are many architects who love and understand animals. Animals must be fed—not only those detained for claim or observation, but also the starving strays. For the strays picked up by individual members, the charge, of course, has been just an item of their household expenses. For the local pound our society usually supplied the food—save when the dog warden was around with his money allowance—because to persuade the authorities to supply it, and to see that they did so, used up too much of our energy, already requisitioned for other duties. For the larger, crowded pound in the adjoining city, where the appropriation for food was a ridiculously low figure, approximately one hundred dollars per year (the food thus provided for was to be supplemented by horse meat whenever a dead horse was brought to the incinerating plant across the alley), the owner of a roadhouse near the village came to the rescue. T h e lady and gentleman who ran the Dixie Inn were lovers of animals, and when


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they heard me tell one day of the problem at this pound, they began to set aside quantities of good food, wasted by guests at their ample tables, which was to be called for by Cutler every few days. T h e butcher who served them heard of the matter, and donated additional scraps to be cooked for the unfortunates. These substantial kindnesses unquestionably saved the lives of many animals which otherwise would have been sent to the lethal chamber for want of food to keep them. I mention the situation, however, mainly as a hint to humane workers that their local restaurants and taverns may become benefactors. Nor is this just a village matter. Anyone passing the north side of the Waldorf-Astoria in New York, any day about noon, may see the wagon of an animal aid society backed up to receive largess from the great kitchens. My mention of clinic days at the pound calls for a supplementary paragraph. We found that the local veterinary surgeons, in search of experience as well as new business, are willing to conduct a free animal dispensary for a few hours each week. W e therefore maintain a place at the pound where veterinarians may practice Tuesday and Friday mornings. A n owner who is able to pay is charged fifty cents, which goes to a fund for medical supplies. T h e estimate which I submit now does not specifically record a great many items which come to mind—that is, occasional fees for speakers; subscriptions for humane magazines; payment for animal boxes and baskets and for stationery; rent for meeting rooms; arrangements for insurance; and more. However, I have created a modest division called "Sundries," which will care roughly for such miscellaneous expenses. At all events, I offer here a talking basis for the efficient

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operation of a small-town group. T h e r e will be reason to vary the items for various communities, but I suppose that the total will remain substantially as it is. T h e analysis is of the sort which an experienced philanthropist


want if he were contemplating the endowment of a local society, let us say, or even if he were giving it a good start —for remember that my estimate does not include the building of a shelter house, the purchase of an ambulance, or the buying of baskets and boxes. T h o s e are your problems. PROPOSED A N N U A L


Agent Assistant Shelter maintenance Food Veterinarian's supplies Ambulance maintenance (gas, oil, etc.) . . Telephone, telegrams, and postage Secretarial help Sundries (approximately 10 percent) Total

$1,500.00 780.00 1,200.00 300.00 50.00 600.00 100.00 16.00 454-oo $5,000.00

Putting the dream aside for the present and coming back to stern realities, there is n o reason w h y the village group in which you are interested cannot begin to function w i t h one hundred dollars, or even less, nor w h y it cannot carry on for years at three or four hundred dollars per annum. T h e important thing is for you to begin. N o t h i n g can grow which does not begin. If I had this experience of mine to live again, I would try to avoid many missteps which I have described here frankly for your guidance. O n e thing I certainly w o u l d not do another time is to attempt so m u c h alone. I would begin by finding about a dozen reputable persons w h o are


T h e Wherewithal to D o

interested in animals and willing to work for animals rather than for their own social advancement, and with them I would incorporate at once. For reserve power I would promptly seek an alliance with one or more groups in surrounding towns. But, cherishing our own independence, I would strive to make our own particular service consistent with the highest hopes of our immediate neighbors and friends. When the inspiration and the service belong to the community, then the humane movement may be called genuine, vigorous, and healthy.

The Practical Humane Worker's Book Shelf THE shelves of any good public library are well stocked with books about animals for any reader who seeks further information in addition to that given in the references already suggested in the text or footnotes of this volume. The humane worker usually needs all available funds for first-aid materials and other matters more urgent than a working library. Yet today, when research and planning are essential to effective work in any field, a humane worker's "Book Shelf" of a dozen items or so is part of the necessary equipment. T h e author has prepared an abbreviated list covering: the general background of the humane movement; the results of practical experience in the protection of animals; the care of animal pets; humane education, especially for children; and the current, up-to-date legal and professional information which every worker needs to have at hand for daily use. T h e various state laws, municipal ordinances, and current police regulations can usually be had on application to the Secretary of State and to local officers of municipal departments or bureaus or from the police authorities. Clarke, Fiances £., Lessons (or Teaching Humane Education in Elementary Schools. "Classroom Series." T h e American Humane Association, Albany, N. Y.; Our Animal Books. School Readers for all grades. D. C. Heath and Co., Boston, Mass. Coleman, Sydney H„ Humane Society Leaders in America; with a sketch of the early history of the humane movement in England. Albany, N. Y., T h e American Humane Association, 19S4, 270 pp.


Humane Worker's Book Shelf

Fairholme, Edward G., and Wellesley Paine, A Century of Work for Animals. London, John Murray, 1924. New York, E. P. Dutton, 1924. A history of the English Royal S.P.C.A. Leonard, John Lynn, D.V.M., First Aid to Animals. New York and London, Harper 8c Brothers, 1924, 396 pp. Contains the wisdom of the veterinarian for guidance of the layman. McCrea, Roswell C., T h e Humane Movement, a descriptive survey. Prepared on the Henry Bergh Foundation for the Promotion of Humane Education in Columbia University. New York, Columbia University Press, 1910, vii, 444 pp. National Humane Review, T h e . Official monthly publication of the American Humane Association and the American Red Star Animal Relief. Editorial office, Albany, N. Y. Our Dumb Animals. Official monthly publication of the Massachusetts Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals and the American Humane Education Society. Boston, Mass. Ramdohr, Hermann, Guiding Principles for the Protection of Animals. Translated from the German. Leipzig, Franz Wagner, 1931, 155 pp. T h e author is manager of the S.l'.C.A., Leipzig, Germany. T h e book covers ground and subject matter similar to that treated in T h e Hounds of Hastings, and is based on the Leipzig society's half century of experience. Copies can be obtained from Leipziger Tierschutz-Verein, Konigstrasse 9, Leipzig CI, Germany. Rowley, Francis H., T h e Humane Idea; a brief history of man's attitude toward the other animals, and of the development of the humane spirit into organized societies. Boston, American Humane Education Society, 1912, x, 72 pp. Simmons, Eleanor Booth, Cats. New York, London, Whittlesey house, McGraw-Hill Book Company, Inc., 1935, viii, 209 pp. Reliable information about dogs may be easily found, but this is among the fewer good books about felines. Schultz, William J., T h e Humane Movement in the United States, 1910-1922. New York, Columbia University Press, 1924, 319 pp. Dr. Schultz continues through 1922 the tabular Summary of State Laws of Animal and Child Protection, as published by Dr. McCrea in T h e Humane Movement, 1910.

Index Subjects mentioned in the Foreword, Author's Acknowledgments, Editor's Preface, and " T h e Practical Humane Worker's Book Shelf" will be found in those places only, space limitations forbidding an additional listing here. Abandoned animals, 7, 34, 143 Actors: fondness for animals, 40 Advertising: hunting equipment, 127; lost and found animals, 1 1 . See also Publicity Agent: absences, 199; A.S.P.C.A., 24, 66; assistant, 198 f.; convenience, 24, 48 f.; duties, 5 1 ; local society, 13 ff.; need of, 33; part time, 25, 33, 48 f.; pet shows, 168; salary, 28, 33, 45, 144, 180, 197 f., 201; visiting card, 132 f.; when to summon, 35 Agriculture, U. S. Dept. of, see United States Department of Agriculture Airplane, hunting, 125 Air rifle, 8, 127 Aliens, 173; and animals, i6g f. Alima, Colo., 120 Alleyn, Edward, 40 Alligator, 62, 68 Ambulance: for animals, 86, 187, 194, 198, 201 American Humane Association, The, 130, 190, 194; poster contest, 157 American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, The, 1 1 , 189, 194; advises, 23 f.; Agent Howard, 66; Agent Werner, 1 1 3 ; cooperation, 133, 191, 193, 198; Dept. Humane Education, 160 f.; helps uncover dog

racket, 1 1 3 f.; humane education, 149; instruction leaflet, 68; jurisdiction, 24; national campaigns, 129; police fines, 184 f.; supporting powers, 78; Young Defenders' League, 151 f. Animal Protective Association, 193 Animal Protective League, 192, >94 Animals: abandoned, 7, 34, 143; and automobiles, 149, 174; attracted to humane persons, 4 f.; biological experiments, 95 f. 141 ff.; boxes, 5 1 , 145, 198, 200; civilizing influence, 170 t.; injured, 35; intelligence, 122; lovers of, 140, 177; pedigreed, 120 f.; practical jokes, 149; respect for, 2; stolen, 153; trained, 1 2 1 , 164; transportation, 5 1 , 14g, 198, 200; unwanted, 48, 55, 60 f.; vs. children, 133-37 Antelopes: hunted from autos, 125 Anthrax: cattle, 96 Anti-vivisectionists, 141 f., 187 Arliss, George, 40 Arnold (village president), 78 ff., 90. >37 Arrests, 30, 65-68, 181, 1 9 1 ; not always advisable, 70. See also Law Auction bridge: money-raising, 41 f. Audubon societies, 141


2O6 Automobiles: and animals, 80, 174; dogs, 149; ambulance, 86, 187, 194, 198, 201 Balto of Nome, 122 Bandman, Miss, 187 Band of Mercy, 152 Barringer, Mr., 193 f.; Mrs., 178 Bees, 146 Be-Kind-to-Animals Week: films of cruelty, 130; publicity, 143; school celebrations, 161 Bender, Mrs. L. G „ 189 Benefits, money-raising: abuses, 43: bridge, 41 f., 127, 144, 180 f. Bergh, Henry, 133 Bevan, William £., 113, 189 f., 192 Biological products, 142 f. See also Serums Birds: and cats, 128, 140, 143, 160; A u d u b o n societies, 141; bird bath, 156 f.; boy with gun, 27; dead, 147; eat worms, 140; fights, 35, 67; fledgling, 143; hunters, 7 f., 27; lovers of, 140; pet shows, 168; rat attacks, 64; sparrow fight, 67; sea fowl and oil-polluted water, 126; springtime tragedies, 61; trained, 121 Black Beauty, 156 Bladen County, N. C., 124 Blindness, Society for the Prevention of, 127 Blue Cross, 126 Bob, Son of Battle, 156 Bodies: disposal, 53 f., 66, 113 f., >47 Bonheur, Rosa, 156 Boy Scouts, 165 f.; befriend snakes, 138; dogs, 166; Manual, 165 f. Boys' Week: pet show, 162 f., 168 Brack, Mrs., 175, 177 Brannigan, Officer, 85 Bridge: benefit, 41 f., 127, 144, 180 f.; lessons, 41 f. Briggs, Claire, 127 f.

Brite, Ada, 88 f., 175,

193; Jim,

89. '75- >93 Budget, 196-201 Bull baiting, 127 Bullfights, 124 Burkan, Henry (village trustee), 89 ff. Burro: Y u k o n hero, 120 Butcher, donates food, 200 Butterfly, 146 Buttons: Y o u n g Defenders, 151 ff. Cadman, Rev. S. Parkes, 126, 167 f. Cake sale, 42 f.; organization founded on, 43; uneconomic, 43. 181 Calf, two-headed, 121 Camera: gun substitute, 138 Canary, 62; publicity, 120; trained, 121; used in gas tests, 143 C a r b o n monoxide: lethal agent, 52 Castle, Irene, 40 Catnip, 132 Cats: abandoned, 62, 64, 84, 132; acceptable publicity, 120 f.; and birds, 128, 140, 143, 160; and dogs, 128 f.; and mice, 37, 147; baby's playthings, 132; belled, 143; blind, 121; Boy Scouts, 166; cruelty to, 78; fallacies about, 138; habits, 122; house animals, 129; h u m a n e destruction, 63, 91; licenses, 6; need water, 138; on tarred roof, 64; pet shows, 168; placing in homes, 59 f.; point of view, 128; punishment, 67; starving, 152; stolen, 152; stray, 6 f., 11; " T a m m a n y , " 3; unwanted, 48, 61, 194 Cattle: anthrax, 96; in other places, 126 C h a m b e r of Commerce: cooperation, 81 Charity: money-raising, 180 f. See also Benefits

Index Chickens: cholera, 96; cruelty, 9 f.; pet shows, 168 Children: cooperation, 151 S.; embarrassing questions, 146 f.; emulation of elders, 149; humane education, 29, chap, viii, 146 ff.; horrors affect, 164; not informed, 48; not to be exploited, 157; pets give character, 170 f.; practical jokes, 149; reach alien homes, 169 f.; rewards, 155 ff.; "Secret Five," 157; their heroes, 163 f.; vs. animals, 133-37; vicious dogs, 116 f. Chimpanzee: intelligence, 122 Chloretone, 52 f. Chloroform, 38, 52 f. Cholera: chickens, 96 Christian Science Church: publication committee, «28; film committee, 129 Church: benefits, 42; Christian Science, 128 f.; cooperation, 81, 143, 167 f., 178; Roman Catholic, 178; sociables, 42 Cineas of Thessaly, 124 Citizen: legal rights, 67 f., 181; responsibility, 185 f.; A.S.P.C.A., instructions, 68 Clark, Mrs. Ellwood, 187 Clarke, Frances E., 160 Clerk, village, i n f . , 114 f. Clinic, 167, 196, 200; fees, 200; in the home, 94; operating-room, 199; veterinarian supplies, 201 Coleman, Sydney Haines, 189 f., '93 f Community: should support S.P. C.A., 196. See also Public Complaints: investigated, 74 ff.; police report, 82; shielding informants, 75 ff. Connecticut: local societies, 189 Contract with village, 192 f., 195 County Animal Protective League, 188 f.

207 Court actions, 30. See also Law Craiger, Mrs. Sherman, 189 Crosman, Henrietta, 40 Cruelty: horrors affect children, 164; humane education, 70 f.; humane viewpoint, 1 f.; identification of offenders, 34; local and nation-wide, 126; practical jokes, 149; primitive man, 1 f.; prosecution, 66; punishment, 66; thoughtless, 10 ff., 127 if., 149 f.; to cats, 78; to horses, 34 ff.; wanton, 64; warnings, 51; what constitutes, 67 f.; witnesses, 35, 66, 73-78 Cushing's Manual, 26, 192 Cutler, George. 24 f., 33, 43, 50 ff., 65 f., 78 f„ 82, 86, 117, 132, 144, 169, 179 f., 200 Darling, Jay N., 128 Deer, 83 Destruction, humane, 35 f., 89 ff., 145, 170, 174, 195; by police, 80 ff., 84; dogs, 91, 111; gas, 63, 91; horses, 66, 86; methods, 52; shooting, 84; showing police, 83; time limit, 185; unwarranted, 191; vermin, 38; wild dogs, 116 f. Dissection, 147. See also Experiments Dixie Inn, 199 Dog catcher, 54, 192, 199; assistant wardens, 111 ff.; family pets, 101; pay, i n , 114; racket, 11115; telephone alarm, 101 "Dog days," 94 Doggerel about animals, 159 Dog of Montargis, 163 Dogs: acceptable newspaper publicity, 120 f.; and automobiles, 149; and cats, 128 f.; Boy Scouts, 166; habits, 122; howling, 50; humane destruction, 91, 111; injured, 64; licenses, 98, 111 f.,

2O8 Dogs.—Cont. 145; lost, Lee tags, 189; lovers of, 140; "mad," 62; "Mike," 57; mongrels, 57; muzzling, 96, 100 f., 170; pet shows, 168; placing in homes, 56, 58 ff.; predatory packs, 116 f.; punishment, 67; rabies, gg IT.; shooting, 185; strays, 5 f., 1 1 , 61, 148; suspected rabies, 1 1 0 £.; talking, 121; unlicensed, 194; unwanted, 48, 55; vicious, 72, 75 f „ 79, 98, 116 f.; watchdogs, 55 f. Don, the Talking Dog, 121 Donations, 184; food for pound, 200; money, 44. See also Money raising Donlin, Mrs., 175, 177 Drinking trough, 89 Drives, 38-41, 127, 196 Drugstore cooperation, 50 f. Ducks: hunted from planes, 125 Duffy, Mr., 150 Dulwich College, 40 Earthworms, 150; bird enemies, 140; have feeling, 138 Education, humane, 145, chap, viii, 146«., 196 f.; A.S.P.C.A., Dept. of, 160 f.; begins at home, 34; home environment, 169; "incorrigible" boys, 169; literature, 162; need of, 27 ff.; N. Y. state laws, 150; objectives, 164 f.; pedagogy, 158 f.; plays, 161; poster contests, 157; practical correction, 70 f. Emergency calls, 24 Endowment, 201 England: hydrophobia, 96 Erlich, Mrs. Stella, 70 Experiments, animal, 95 f., 141 ff., 147 Fadden, Mrs., 27 f. Fairbanks, Douglas, 163 Fairplay, Colo., 120

Index Fay, Dr. (health officer), 109 ff. Federation of Churches of Christ in America, 167 Fights: bird, 35, 67; bull, 124, 127; instigation, 35; sparrow. 67 Finances, 33. See also Money raising Fines, 66, 184 f. Fire: horse rescue, 85 Fire Department, 33 Firearms: minors, 8 f., 27, 76 f „ 127. See also Hunting First aid, 195; emergency calls, 24; materials, 145, 180; Girl Scouts, 148; prescribing without license, 191. See also Clinic Fish: cruelty to, 9; fishing-tackle advertisements, 127; have feeling, 138; pet shows, 168; camera, 138; pleasure in catching, »37 fFiske, Mrs. Minnie Maddern, 2. 40, 126 Flaherty, Officer, 85 Florida: baby alligators, 62 Flower, Edith, 178 Fly, killing the, 146 Food, 143, 145, 166, 180; failure to provide, 35; for impounded animals, 199 t.; starving cats, '52 Forbes, Guy, 189 Forkum, Dana, 163 Francis, Frank. 51 Francis of Assisi, St., 147 Fredonia, N. V., 138 Galahad, Order of Sir, 152 Galsworthy, John, 126 Game laws, 8, 129, 143. See also Hunting Garden clubs, 141 Gas: lethal agent, 52 f., 63, 91 Gillette, William, 40 Girl Scouts, 29, 45, 148 f., 165 t., 187; County Council, 148

Index Glass, fed to animals, 64 Glue factory, 86 Glumph, Mrs., 158 Goat for sale, 59 Goeckler, Mrs. Harry E., 189 Goertz, Mrs., 178 Goldberg, Rube, 32 Government: control of S.P.C.A., 185; local authorities offended, 78 ff.; responsibility, 186; should help humane work, 180; village cooperation, 8s. See also Village Grady, Meryl, 163 Green, Mrs., 150, 178 Greyfriars Bobby, 156 Grogan, Officer, 84 Gun: camera a substitute for, 138 Haucke, Mrs. Evangeline, 187 Hawks, 62; protected, 138 Hays, Will H., 129 Health: code violations, 191; officer, 106-9 Health News, 93 Heiss, John, 163 Henry, O., 1 Hey wood, Mrs., 36 Hillyer rabies case, 106 ff. Hoax, rodeo, 123 f. Home: environment, 169; found for animals, 11, 55, 58 ff., 195; used as a pound, 49, 51 f., 62 f. Horse Aid Society, 70 Horses: Boy Scouts, 166; cruelty to, 10 ff., 30, 34 ff., 62, 65 ff., 69 f., 78 f.; drinking trough, 89; fire rescue, 85; "for a bale of hay," 86 f.; glue factory, 86; S.P.C.A. buys, 87 Horton, William K., 23, 189 f. Howard (A.S.P.C.A. agent), 66, 72 Hudson River, 173 Humane education, chap, viii, 146 ff. See also Education Humane Society: distinct from S.P.C.A., 68; name, 193

Hunting, 8 f.; advertised equipment, 127; circus lions, 125; cruelties, 62; decline, 125; dogkillers, 117; from airplanes and autos, 125; game laws, 129, 143; minors, 127; pleasure, 137 f.; posted lands, 138; useful publicity, 125 Hydrophobia, 95 f. See also Rabies Identification of offenders, 35, 76 ff. See also Witnesses Immunization, rabies, 95 f.r 105 f. Incorporation, 191-94; Supreme Court approval, 194 Injured animals, 35. See also First Aid Inoculation, anti-rabic, 105 f. Insurance, 200 International News Service, 124 Investigation of complaints, 74 ff. Jack London Clubs, 164 James, Mrs. Gordon, 178 Jones, Mrs., 31, 33 Jones, Officer, 85 Kellogg, Dr., 122 Kerr, Sophie, 128 Kindness, voluntary, 2. See also Education Knighthood of Youth, 152 Knights of Columbus, pet show, 168 Kovinsky, Johnny, 154 Law, 34 f., chap, v, 65 ff.; arrests. 30, 65-68, 70; cats, 6; dogshooting case, 185; fines, 66, 184 f.; informing police on, 83; legal responsibility of society, 192; prosecution, 66, 68 f., 97 ft., 196; witnesses, 35, 66, 73-78. See also Quarantine League, 192, 194; of Women Voters, 96

2 IO Lee, Mrs. Walter D., 189; lost dog tags, 189 L e Gallienne, Eva, 40 I^nd A Hand Club, 166 f. Libby, Laura Jean, 40 Library: S.P.C.A. "book shelf," 145, 203 ff.; village, 41 Licenses: cats, 6; dogs, 98, 111 f.; hunting, 8; local control, 98; police check, 11»; wagons, 34 Light, Mrs., xi f., 26 Lions, hunting circus, 125 Literature, humane, 195 Loeb, Sophie Irene, 128 Lovers, of animals, 140, 177 L u n n , Dick, 84 " M a d dog," 62, 93 ff. See also Rabies Magazines, humane, 156 Markets: live animals, 9 f. McKinstry, Officer, 84 f. Medical profession and anti-vivi sectionists, 141 Members, 33; campaigning for, 38-41, 182 f.; dues, 183; kinds, 183 f.; privileges, 181; renewals, 183; resignation, 77 Mercy, 1; Band of, 152 Mice, 37 f., 140 f., 147 " M i k e , " 57 f. Mill, Mr. and Mrs. Andrew, 175, 177 Millennium Guild, 187 Minors: firearms, 8 f., 27, 76 f., 127 Mississippi River: suffering animals, 126 Mix, T o m , 163 Mohammed, 1 Moloski, William, 163 Monet, Mrs., 178 Money raising, 33, 127, 196; begging, 180 f.; benefit affairs. 41 IT.; cake sale, 42 f „ 181; community support, 144, 181 ff.,

Index 196; from several communities, 196; memberships, 38 ff.; methods, 41 ff.; no place for sentiment, 41 f.; overdone propaganda, 46 f.; personal solicitation, 39 ff.; tact, 183; telephone, 44 Mongrels: good dispositions, 57; homes for, 56 f.; neglected, 19 f. Montana: cattle and droughts, 126 Montclair, Mr. and Mrs., 175, 177 Moreaus, 72 f. Morgan, Dorothy, 175 Mortimer, Mrs., 31 Motion Picture Producers and Distributors of America, 129 f. Motion pictures: cruelty in, 129 f.; exhibitor cooperation, 130; rabies information, 93 Motorcycle, to transport animals, '98 Mutilation of animals, 34 Muzzling. 96, 100 f., 170 Naylor, Mrs., 178 Nelson, Miss, 177 f. Newspapers: acceptable publicity, 117-24; and children, 156; annual S.P.C.A. report, 88; cake sale, 43 f.; controlled publicity, chap, vii, 116 If.; cooperation, 117 ff.. 123, 135 f.; dog catcher scandal, 114; lost and found ads.. 11; names, 144; rabies information, 93, 97 ff.; rabies letlei's. 104 f.; useful publicity for cruel practices, 125 Newsreels, 125 New York City: fines for cruelty, 184 f.; metropolitan area, 173; rabies, 96, 102; runaway cattle, 62 New York State: Dept. of Farms and Markets, 93, 99, 101; Dept. of Health, 93, 96, 98, 104, 108 f.; dog wardens, 111-14; humane

Index education laws, 34, 150 f.; hunting laws, 8; pound laws, 99; rabies quarantine, 93, 98 ff.; Sanitary Code, 1 1 4 North Carolina: cock fighting, 124 O'Donnell (police captain), 84; Walter, 84 Old Testament, 1 Organization: animal lovers as executives, 177; county league, 188 ff.; directors, 188; how to form, 186 f.; incorporation, 19194; kindred spirits, 16, chap, iii, 30 ff.; minutes, 192 f. See also Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. Overworked animals, 34 Owls, 62; protected, 138 Parade, 80, 175 Parent-Teachers Association, 159 f; cooperation, 81 f. Pasteur, Louis, 95; treatment, 106 ff. Patrons, 183 f. Peabody, Mrs. Anna May, 166 f. Pento-barbital, 53 Peterka, Catherine, 176 Pets: and dog catchers, 101; character benefits for children, 170 f.; left to starve, 143; sentimentality, 46 f.; shows, 161 ff., 168; unusual. 40 Pigeons, spite killings, 64 Pirates of Penzance, The, 38 Plays, humane, 161 Plutarch, 124 Poisoning animals, 35, 64, 158 Police, 33; benefit fund, 184; cooperation, 68, 80-85; cruelty fines, 184 f.; dog licenses, 1 1 2 ; humane, 82-85; humane destruction of animals, 35; impounded deer, 83; indifference,

21 1 12 f.; keys to gas box, 91 f.; need of, 64; report animal cases, 82; taxicab charge, 81; to shoot unmuzzled dogs, 100 f.; when to call, 34. See also Law Posters, 143; cake sale, 44; contest, 157, 160 f. Poultry: cholera, 96; markets, 9 f.; pet shows, 168 Pound, 194 f.; construction, 199; deer, 83; difficulties without, 51 {.; dogs saved from, 56; home used as, 49; in absence of, 1 1 0 f.; keeper, 197 ff.; law requires, 89; need of, 108; no provision for, 13; operated by S.P.C.A., 192 f.; N. Y. State law, 99 Preston, Mrs. Stella J., 160 Prizes, 155 ft.; pet show, 162 f., 168 Propaganda, overdone, 42, 46 f. See also Publicity Prosecution, 66; local ordinances, 97 ff.; not a humane society function, 68 f., 196. See also Law Public: appreciation, 63 f.; conciliating the, 72 f.; explaining local society to, 46, 132 f.; indifference, 39 f., 100 ff., 132, 144; "mad dogs," 94 ff.; misuse of society, 83; organized cooperation, 81 f.; thoughtless cruelty, 127 f. Publicity: acceptable to press, 11724; acquainting the public, 46; annual report, 88; as a reward, 156; cake sale, 43 f.; cock-fighting, 124; controlled, chap, vii, ) 16 ff.; "human interest," 120, 122; makers of hunting equipment, 127; names, 144; news, 122 ff.; preparation of copy, 1 1 9 If.; rabies, 102 ff.; reiteration, 144; release date, 1 1 8 ; rodeo hoax, 123 f.; seasonal, 143; society spokesman, 1 1 9 ; to influ-

212 Publicity.—Cont. ence officials, 184; undesirable, n 6 f f . ; verification, 123 f. Pyrrhus, 124 Quarantine: rabies, 93, 96 ff„ 102 S., 111, 131 Quarrels between humane workers, 140 ff. Questions, embarrassing, 146 f. Rabbits, 147 Rabies, 102 ff.; death, 96, 98; Hillyer case, 106 ff.; immunization, 105 f.; lecturer on, 102 f., 105; quarantine, 93, 96 ff.; suspected cases, 110 f.; symptoms, 103 f.; violent and dumb, 104; what to do, 103, 10S f. Radio publicity, 125, 129 Rat attacks bird, 64 Reptiles: Boy Scout friends, 138 Richvalsky, Elizabeth, 176 f. Ridicule, 120, 130 ff. "Rin-tin-tin," 122 Robins: hunting prohibited, 8 Rodeo, 123 f., 125 Roman Catholic Church, 178 Roy, Mrs., 28 f., 31 f., 45, 148 f„ 174. 187 Ruth, Babe, 163 Schmidt, Frederick, 163 Schmitz, Frederick, 162 Schools: cooperation, 150 ff.; humane education, 143, chap, viii, 146 ff.; humane plays, 161; pet shows, 161 ff.; prizes, 155 ff.; vacation, 149 Scout Manual, 148 Seasons: in publicity, 143; in humane work, 61 f. Secretarial help, 201 "Secret Five, The," 157 Selections from Three Essays by Wagner, 188

Index Sentimentality, 46 (., 117, 120, 159; no place in money-raising, 41 f.; overdone compassion, 67 Serums, 142; lecture on, 102 f., 105; Pasteur treatment, 106 ff.; rabies immunization, 85 f. Shakespeare, William, 40 Shaw, George Bernard, 126 Shelter, animal, 194 ff.; construction, 199; maintenance cost, 201. See also Pound Shinn, Walter Scott, 188 Shipment of animals, 34. See also Transportation Shooting, mercy, 80-84 Slaughter house: runaway cattle, 62 Smith, Albert E., 126 Snails: pet show, 168 Snakes: Boy Scouts befriend, 138; pet show, 168 Society for the Prevention of Blindness, The, 127 Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals: action needed, 38 f., 180, 201; agent, 24; agent's salary, 28; agent's visiting card, 132 f.; aims, 68, 195 ff.; and schools, 150 f.; and veterinarians, 139; annual report, 88; apologetic friends, 139 f.; appreciated service, 63 f.; assists police, 82 ff.; budget, 196 ff., 201; buys village horses. 87; clearing-house for animal information, 121; contrast with village, 192 f., 195; cooperation with Knights of Columbus, 168; cost per case, 197; court cases, 65 ff.; dangerous publicity, 116 f., 120; demoralization, 179; directors, 194; disposal of bodies, 53 f., 66, 113 f., 147; distinct from humane society, 68 f., dog catchers, 101, 111-15; dog licenses, 145; duties, 34 ff.; founded on

Index cake sale, 43; friends, 63 f., 87; funds, 33, 196; government control, 185; "home town," i s ; how to form, 186 f.; humane philosophy, 146 f.; incorporation, 191 ff.; inquiries, 186; investigation of complaints, 74 ff.; keys to gas box, gi f.; kindred spirits, 140, 174 f.; leadership, 172, 179; legal responsibility, 96, 192; lessons of experience, 173; local start, 19, 30 ff.; money needed, 180 f.; money-raising, 180 f.; names, 193; needs friends, 73; officers, 32, 174 f., 177, 192; paying its way, 180; police friends, 38, 80 ff.; predatory dogs, 1 1 7 ; privileges, 32 f.; prosecution by, 196; public misuse of, 48 ff., 55, 59, 61; quarantine responsibility, 96; rabies quarantine, 93 ff., 96 ff.; record, 197; repays its cost, 181; ridicule, 130 s . ; rural and suburban workers, 13 f.; seasonal problems, 61 f.; service area, 197; society spokesman, 119; support, 186; teacher cooperation, 158 ff.; veterinarians, 105 f., 145; village recognizes, 88; vitality, 174; whisperers, 133-37; wide interests, 125 f.; working library, 145, 203 ff. Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children, 133 Sosky, Sophie, 176 Spain: bullfights, 124 Sparrow: fights, 67; pet, 140 Speakers, 200. See also Education. Spratt, Miriam, 178 Springtime and animals, 143 Squier, Emma-Lindsay, 128 Squirrels, 147, 158; boy with gun, 27; hunters, 8 f „ 27, 76 f.; lovers of, 140 Stag, 83

213 Stationery, S.P.C.A., 180 Stolen animals, 153 Stores: and animals, 9 f „ 152; cooperation with society, 157; reluctant to antagonize, 77 f. Stray animals, 5 8 . , 1 1 f „ 194; cats, 6 f., 1 1 ; dogs, 1 1 3 , 116 f.; harboring, 191; springtime, 61 Strayer, Mrs., 188 Supreme Court, approves incorporation, 194 T a g system for lost dogs, 189 Talks: humane education, 200. See also Education "Tammany," 3 Tate, Mrs. Florence, 20 f., 31 f., 36. 135. '53. '74 Taxicab: drivers cooperate, 81; emergency use, 180, 198; police service, 81 Teachers, 158-61. See also Education Telephone: calling the society, 49, 191; dog catcher alarm, 101; cost, 180, 201; money raising by, 44 Theaters: cooperation, 157, 168 Trained animals, 1 2 1 , 164 Transportation of animals, 85 f., 180; animal boxes, 51, 145, 198, 200 Trapping, 85, 143. United States Department of Agriculture, 126 Unwanted animals, 7, 34, 48, 55, 60 f „ 143 Vaccines, 142 Vermin: humane destruction, 38 Veterans: cooperation, 81 Veterinarians, 176; and S.P.C.A., 139; available, 145; clinic, 200; cooperation, 105 f.; license, 191; "mad dog," 94; supplies, 201


214 Victor, Mrs., 80, 174 f.; R a y m o n d , 80, 175 Village: alien p o p u l a t i o n , 173; officials antagonized, 78 S.; charges f o r police, 81; clerk, 111 f., 114 f.; contract, 192 f., 195; c o o p e r a t i o n of officials, 86; counsel dislikes animals, 90; horses, 10 f., 79 f., 87; indifference, 14 f., 39 ff., 100 if.; officials most interested in a n i m a l s destroyed, 89 f.; rabies inoculation, 105 f.; rabies q u a r a n t i n e , 98; recognition by officials, 88; s h o o t i n g f o r b i d d e n , 8; society s u p p o r t , 144; t h e typical, 173 f. Vokes, Mrs. Lola, 3, i 8 f „ «7, 29, 31 f., 37 f., 41, 58, 88, 174, 193; Mr., 18 f., 133 f.

i4S. ' 5 6 f W e r n e r , Jacob, 113 W e s t e r g r e n , Mrs., 17 f., 174; Mr., i7f. W i l d c a t , 130 W i n d o w cards: cake sale, 44 W i n t e r , a n d a n i m a l s , 143 Witnesses, 66, 73 f.; p r o t e c t i n g , 75 ff.; securing, 35; u n w i l l i n g , 76 ff. W o m a n ' s C l u b , 31 f., 43 f., 81, 187; purpose, 22; proposed S.P.C.A., 25 ff.; p r o p o s a l to abs o r b society, 28 W o r k e r s : hysteria, 37; q u a r r e l s , 140 ff.; u n p l e a s a n t duties, 36 f., 53 fW y m a n , Dr., 106 If., 109 W y o m i n g : starving elk, 126

W a l d o r f - A s t o r i a H o t e l , 200 W a l k e r , N a t h a n i e l J., 194 W a l t o n , Izaak, 137 W a r d e n , dog, 111-15, ' 9 s ' '99See also D o g catcher. Watchdogs, 55 f. W a t e r , for animals, 10, 89, 138,

Y o u n g D e f e n d e r s ' L e a g u e , 151-57 Y o u n g W o m a n ' s C h r i s t i a n Associa t i o n , 190 Youth, K n i g h t h o o d of, 152 Zoological park, 83 Zoroaster, 1

f PUBLICATIONS OF T H E HENRY BERGH FOUNDATION FOR T H E PROMOTION OF HUMANE EDUCATION, COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY f SAMUEL McCUNE LINDSAY, DIRECTOR AND EDITOR, PROFESSOR OF SOCIAL LEGISLATION, COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY % PUBLISHED FOR T H E FOUNDATION BY COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY PRESS, COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY, NEW YORK H U M A N E M O V E M E N T ; a descriptive study, By Roswell C . McCrea, Professor of Economics and Dean of the School of Business, Columbia University. 1910. vii 444 pages. $3.50. 1. T H E CACED M A N . By Stagg Whitin. 1913. vi + 117 pages. $1.25. A summary and digest of the laws of continental United States regulating the treatment of prisoners.









96 pages. $1.25. A discussion of the administration of the laws for the prevention of cruelty to animals and of recent legislation for the protection of animals and children, by Frank B. Williams and C. C. Carstens. Also a summary of State Laws for the protection of animals and children, 1910-14, by Professor Roswell C. McCrea, continuing to the end of 1913 the tables in the Humane Movement (see above). 3 . PREVENTION













Morse Hubbard. 1915. 85 pages. $1.25. 4 . PREVENTION








By F. Morse Hubbard. 1916. 112 pages. $1.25. An examination of the practical results of existing humane legislation and its administration in Illinois, Colorado and California. 5. Swiss I N T E R N M E N T O F PRISONERS O F W A R . An experiment in international humane legislation and administration. 1917. 54 pages. $1.25. A report of the Swiss Commission in the United States, with Preface by William Staempfli, member of the Commission, and an introduction by E. Stagg Whitin and Samuel McCune Lindsay, representing the American National Committee on Prisons and Prison Labor. 6. T H E H U M A N E M O V E M E N T IN THF. U N I T E D STATES, 1910-1922. By William J. Shultz. 1924. 319 pages. Studies in History, Economics and Public Law, No. 252. $5.00. A descriptive study along the same lines and continuing that of Professor McCrea published in 1910 under the title: T h e Humane Movement. 7. T H E H O U N D S O F HASTINGS. By Marion Soetemon Krows. 1938. xi + 214 pages. $1.90 COLORADO AND C A L I F O R N I A .