Oh, I can't tell you how distressing it used to be to hear the
report of the guns day after day and know that every piercing sound was
the sign that more innocent lives were being taken. I used to cover up
my ears and try not to hear them. It made me shiver to know that those
poor gulls were being shot down for nothing. Their only crime
consisted in being beautiful."
Both women turned at that moment attracted by the sight of a young lady
who was standing on the pavement outside in an animated talk with
another girl.
"There's Miss Van Dyke, with her new feather collar on," observed Mrs.
Brown, in a low voice.
The young lady in question was a dashing, radiant creature, bright with
smiles and a face like a picture. On her shapely shoulders was a
magnificent cape, lustrous as satin, of silvery white, into which pale
dark lines softly blended at regular intervals. Twenty-two innocent
lives had been taken to make that little garment. Twenty-two beautiful
grebes slain that their glossy breasts might lend splendor to a lady's
wardrobe.
The two friends looked at Miss Van Dyke in silence for a moment, then
sighed as she passed along out of their view.
"When I see such perversion of woman's nature I wonder that the very
stones do not cry out against us," exclaimed Mrs.
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