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THE QUIVER

ANNUAL VOLUME, 1905

Principal Contributors

Elizabeth Banks Katharine Tynan The Rev. John Watson, D.D. The Rev. R. F. Horton, D.D. D. L. Wookmer The Rev. Principal Forsyth, M.A., D.D. The Duke of Argyll The Rev. High Black, M.A. The Dean of Worcester The Bishop of Derry The Rev. J. H. Jowett, M.A. Raymond Blathwayt Fred E. Weatherly J. Bloundelle-Burton Richard Mudie-Smith, F.S.S. The Rev. F. B. Meyer, B.A. The Rev. Arthur Finlayson Guy Thorne Pastor Thomas Spurgeon Morice Gerard Dr. T. J. Macnamara, M.P. The Rev. H. B. Freeman, M.A. The Rev. R. J. Campbell, M.A. Ethel F. Heddle Sir Robert Anderson, K.C.B. The Rev. Mark Guy Pearse May Crommelin The Lord Bishop of Manchester Scott Graham Amy Le Feuvre The Venerable Archdeacon Sinclair, etc. etc.

THE SWORD OF GIDEON

To north and south and east and west horsemen were spurring fast on the evening of May 15th, 1702 , while, as they rode through hamlets and villages, they heard behind them the bells of the churches beginning to ring many a joyous peal. Also, on looking back over their shoulders, they saw that already bonfires were being lit, and observed the smoke from them curling up into the soft evening air of the springtime.

For these splashed and muddy couriers had called out as they passed through the main streets of the villages that the long expected war with France was declared at last by England, by Austria--or Germany, as Austria was then called--and the States-General of the United Netherlands.

"I pity his generals and his armies when my lord the Earl of Marlborough crushes them between his ranks of steel," said one who stood by; "the more so that Lewis"--as they called him in this country--"has insulted us by espousing the claims of James's son, by acknowledging him as King of England. He acknowledges him who is barred for ever from our throne by the Act of Succession, and also because his father forswore the oath he took in the Abbey."

"He acknowledges the babe who, as I did hear Bishop Burnet say in Salisbury Cathedral," a Wiltshire rustic remarked, "was no child at all of the Queen, but brought into the palace in a warming pan, so that an heir should not be wanting."

"He persecutes all of our faith," a grave and reverend clergyman remarked now; "a faith that has never harmed him; that, in truth, has provided him with many faithful subjects who have served him loyally. And now he seeks to grasp another mighty country in his own hands, another great stronghold of Papistry--Spain. And wrongfully seeks, since, long ago, he renounced all claims to the Spanish throne for himself and his."

A thousand such talks as this were taking place on that night of May 15th as gradually the horsemen rode farther and farther away from the capital; the horsemen who, in many cases, were themselves soldiers, or had been so. For they carried orders to commanders of regiments, to Lord-Lieutenants, to mayors of country towns, and, in some cases, to admirals and sea captains, bidding all put themselves and those under them in readiness for immediate war service. Orders to the admirals and captains to have their ships ready for sailing at a moment's notice; to the commanders of regiments to stop all furlough and summon back every man who was absent; to the Lord-Lieutenants to warn the country gentlemen and the yeomanry. Orders, also, to the mayors to see to the militia--the oldest of all our English forces, the army of our freemen and our State--being called together to protect the country during the absence of a large part of the regular troops. Beside all of which, these couriers carried orders for food and forage to be provided at the great agricultural centres; for horses to be purchased in large quantities; for, indeed, every precaution to be taken and no necessary omitted which should contribute towards the chance of our destroying at last the power of the man who had for so long held the destiny of countless thousands in his hand.

Meanwhile, as all the bells of London were still ringing as they had been ringing from before midday, a young man was riding through the roads that lay by the side of the Thames, on the Middlesex side of it. A young man, well-built and as good-looking as a man should be; his eyes grey, his features good, his hair long and dark, as was plainly to be seen since he wore no wig. One well-apparelled, too, in a dark, blue cloth coat passemented with silver lace, and having long riding-boots reaching above his knees, long mousquetaire riding-gloves to his elbows, and, in his three-cornered hat, the white cockade.

He was free now of the encumbered road betwixt the river and the old houses: the way before him lay through open fields in some of which there grew a vast profusion of many kinds of vegetables and orchard fruits, while, in others, the lavender scented all the afternoon air; whereupon, putting his horse to the canter, he rode on until he came to an open common and, next, to a kind of village green--a green on two sides of which were antique houses of substance, and in which was a pond where ducks disported themselves.

On the east side of the green, facing the pond, there stood embowered in trees an old mansion, known as the Villa Carey. In after days, when this old house had given place to a new one, the latter became known as Peterborough House, doubtless to perpetuate the memory of the dauntless and intrepid man who now inhabited it.

Arrived at the old, weather-beaten oak gate, against which the storms that the southwesterly gales brought up had beaten for more than two centuries, the young man summoned forth an aged woman and, on her arrival, asked if Lord Peterborough were within.

"Ay, ay," the old rosy-cheeked lodge-keeper murmured; "and so in truth he is. And to you always, Master Bracton. Always, always. Yet what brings you here? Is't anything to do with the pother the bells are making at Fulham and Putney and all around? And what is it all about?"

"You do not know? You have not heard?" Bevill Bracton answered, as he asked questions that were almost answers. "You have not heard, even though my lord is at home. For sure he knows, at least."

"If he knows he has said nothing--leastways to me. After midday he sat beneath the great tulip tree, with maps and charts on the carpet spread at his feet above the grass, and twice he has sent off messengers to Whitehall and once to Kensington, but still none come anigh us in this quiet spot. But, Master Bevill," the old woman went on, laying a knotted finger on the young man's arm--she had known him from boyhood--"those two or three who have passed by say that great things are a brewing--that we are going to war again as we went in the late King's reign, and with France as ever; and that--and that--the bells are all a-ringing because 'tis so."

"And so it is, good dame Sumner. We are going to see if we cannot at least check the King of France, who seeks now to make Spain a second half of France. But come; we must not trifle with time. Let me hook my bridle rein here, and you may give my horse a drink of water when he is cool, and tell me where my lord is now. Great deeds are afoot!"

"He is in the long room now. There shall you find him. Ay, lord! what will he be doing now that war is in the air again? He who is never still and in a dozen different cities and countries in a month."

With a laugh at the old woman's reflections on her master's habits--which reflections were true enough--Bevill Bracton went on towards the house itself and, entering it by the great front door, crossed a stone-flagged hall, and so reached a polished walnut-wood door that faced the one at the entrance. Arrived at it, he tapped with his knuckle on the panel, and a moment later heard a voice from inside call out:

"Who's there?"

"'Tis I--Bevill."

"Your lordship knows?"

"Know? Why, i' faith, of course I know. Is there anything Charles Mordaunt does not know when mischief is in the wind?--Mordanto, as Swift calls me; Sir Tristram, as others describe me; I, whose 'birth was under Venus, Mercury, and Mars,' and who, like those planets, am ever wandering and unfixed. Be sure I know it. As, also, I knew you would come. Yet, kinsman, one thing I do not know--that one thing being, what it is you expect to gain by coming, unless it is the hope of finding the chance to see those Catholics, amongst whom you lived as a youth, beaten down by sturdy Protestants like yourself."

"Yet?"

"Not disgraced. Not that--never that, God be thanked."

"I say so, too. But still broken, though never disgraced. What you did you did well. That fellow, that Dutchman, that Colonel Sparmann, whom yorge birds and "bird" to small ones, but gradually the use of the name "fowl" was limited to the common domestic fowl, and "bird" became the generic name for all feathered creatures.

Since that was written practical flying machines have been invented, but in these, as in boats and ships, man has merely devised a machine which under his control can do laboriously and at great risk what the bird does naturally and easily. To birds man is indebted for his first lessons in navigating the water as well as for his ideas about airships.

The eggs of all birds are edible, but birds differ greatly in the number of eggs that they lay and in the disposition to lay them in places provided for the purpose. So, nearly all who keep birds for their eggs keep fowls, which are the most prolific and most docile, and hens' eggs are the staple eggs in the markets.

The feathers of birds are used for pillows and beds, for feather dusters, and in various ways for ornament. Except in the case of the ostrich, however, the value of the feathers of domesticated birds is so small that no one grows birds primarily for their feathers. On the other hand, those who keep birds for pleasure find their greatest enjoyment in breeding them with colors and markings difficult to produce. Choice specimens of fancy-bred birds bring prices many times greater than the value of their flesh and eggs for food and of their feathers for use or ornament. Fancy feathers have no more value than others except on the living birds.

While those who keep birds for pleasure nowadays give most attention to breeding fancy stock for exhibition, several kinds of pigeons are kept to entertain by their flying performances; and--outside of the limited class of those who breed them especially for exhibition--canaries are valued according to ability to sing. The brutal sport of cockfighting was a popular pastime with our ancestors until prohibited by law, and is still prevalent in many lands. In early times birds of prey were captured when very young and carefully trained to hunt for their masters. Under the feudal system there were regulations prescribing the kinds of birds which different classes of men might use in this way: the eagle and vulture were for emperors only; the gyrfalcon for kings; the lesser falcons for nobles; the harrier for esquires; the merlin for ladies; the goshawk for yeomen; the kestrel for servants; the sparrow hawk for priests.

Much of the value of various kinds of poultry comes from their ability to destroy insects which damage vegetation, and to maintain themselves on these and on foods not available for the larger domestic mammals. The services of poultry in this respect being limited to those insects that can be secured from the ground, and to areas on which the birds can live safely and do no damage to crops, we are dependent upon wild a?rial birds to keep insect life in check on trees and high bushes and on land not occupied by poultry.

In nature species prey upon each other--the lowest forms of life upon inorganic and decayed matter, the higher forms upon the lower, the larger creatures upon the smaller, the savage upon the defenseless. Fertile lands not only produce luxuriant vegetation but teem with insect life, which, if not kept in check, would soon destroy that vegetation. In tropical and semitropical regions there are mammals, some of them quite large, which feed upon insects. In temperate regions where insects are not to be obtained during the winter, there would be no adequate check upon their increase and the consequent destruction of vegetation if it were not for the vast numbers of insect-eating migratory birds which come to these regions for the summer. Necessary as these birds are to vegetation on uncultivated lands, they are more necessary in cultivated fields, orchards, and gardens where the crops are more attractive to insects than the mixed vegetation on wild lands. As insect destroyers the domestic birds that are kept on cultivated lands only fill the place of the nonmigratory wild birds that have been driven away or exterminated. So it is to the interest of every one to protect insect-eating wild birds, for although these birds may do some damage to crops, their service usually more than pays for it.

The question of increasing the number of species of birds in domestication interests many people. There is a general impression among those not familiar with the commercial aspect of aviculture that many more species might be domesticated. While it is true that many birds capable of domestication have not been domesticated, there are few of these that would serve any purpose not better served by some species already domesticated. It will be shown as the different kinds and varieties of domestic birds are discussed that the most useful kinds are always the most popular, and that many others are kept principally as ornaments. The number of ornamental creatures that can be kept in domestication is limited, for as a rule animals, like people, must earn their living.

CHARACTERS AND HABITS OF BIRDS RELATED TO USE

The face of a fowl is normally almost bare, the skin being a bright red like the comb and wattles; but at a distance of a few feet we can usually see some very small, fine feathers on it, and if we examine closely we see in addition still finer growths--hairs. Among the body feathers of a fowl, too, are quite long hairs. These are most easily observed after a bird is plucked. They do not come out with the feathers, and are removed by singeing.

In the next higher form of feather a small round quill appears with filaments protruding from it like the hairs in an artist's brush. Such a feather is called a stub feather, or simply a stub. The best place to find these is on the outside of the shank of a fowl with scantily feathered legs.

The first form of the complete feather is best observed either on the head of a fowl or at the hock joint. The feathers in these places are very small, yet complete. The round quill is lengthened into a shaft. Extending from each side of this shaft is a single row of filaments, called barbs, the edges of which, interlocked with little hooks, form the web of the feather. On other parts of the body of the bird the feathers are larger, but the general structure is always the same. The size and special structure of the feather are always adjusted to suit the part on which it grows or the service which it has to perform.

As the first function of the feathers is to keep the bird dry and warm, the body feathers are all soft as compared with the large stiff feathers of the wings and tail; yet as we look at the feathers on different parts of the body of a bird we notice differences in their structure, and also notice that the structure of a feather is not always the same throughout its length. On the exposed parts of the feathers of the neck, back, wings, and breast the web is perfect and the feathers overlap so closely that they present a smooth surface. Under the surface, especially next the skin, the barbs are not smoothly joined, but are fluffy. Thus the same feathers which present a hard, smooth surface to the weather provide a soft, warm garment next the skin. Under the wings and on the underside of the body the feathers are quite fluffy throughout their whole length.

The pigment which colors the plumage may be found in soluble form in the quills of immature colored feathers. It is not conspicuous unless it is quite dark. In black fowls it is often so abundant that a part remains in the skin when the feathers are removed. After the pigment is deposited in the web of the feather the color is fast. Water does not affect it, but it fades a little with age and exposure. New plumage usually contains a great deal of oil, a condition which is most conspicuous in white birds, to whose plumage the oil gives a creamy tint. In colored birds the presence of a large amount of oil in feathers is desirable because it gives greater brilliance to the plumage.

The balance between capacity for flight and neglect to use it, which is desired in birds grown for the table, is secured by giving them opportunity to exercise their wings moderately but not for progressive practice in flying, which would soon enable them to fly easily over the fences used to confine them. To regulate such exercise the perches for birds that roost are made low, or in an ascending series in which each perch after the first is reached from the one below it, while fences are made so much higher than the distance the bird is accustomed to fly that the failures of its first efforts to go over them discourage it. Ducks and geese, which do not roost, flap their wings a great deal, and if they have room often exercise them by half running and half flying along the ground.

If the supporting surface of the wing of a bird were made of skin, like the web of the foot of a swimming bird, it would be necessary to fold the wing for each upward stroke. It is here that the structure of feathers adapts itself to the rapid action required for movement in the air. The wing is not one surface but a series of narrow surfaces lapping in such a manner that they unite to form one broad surface when the downward stroke is made, and with the upward stroke are separated so that the air passes between them. Greater power in the downward stroke and less resistance in the upward stroke are also secured by the curvature of the wing. The under side is concave, the upper side convex. Thus in the downward stroke the wing gathers the air under it and so increases the pressure, while in the upward stroke it scatters the air and reduces the pressure.

If the wing were equally rigid throughout, the movement of the bird would be mostly upward. The bird in flying moves forward because the front of the wing is rigid and the tips of the feathers, which are directed backward, are flexible. So the air compressed by the wing in the downward stroke escapes backward, and in doing so propels the bird forward. The principle is the same that is applied in the screw propeller of a boat or an airship, except that the wing vibrates while the propeller revolves.

The most important function of the tail in flight is to balance the bird. It is of some assistance in steering, but a bird steers its course mostly by manipulation of the wings.

In proportion to their ability to scratch, birds are able to find seeds and insects concealed among dead or living vegetation on the surface of the ground, and also to dig below the surface. Scratching capacity is most highly developed in the fowl. Compared to it the other land birds are very feeble scratchers, and do little damage by scratching if free to roam about. For ages the scratching propensity of fowls was regarded as a vice in them, but since people began to give special attention to poultry they have learned that fowls are much more contented and thrifty in confinement if their food is given them in a litter of leaves, straw, or shavings, in which they must scratch for it, and have also found that to some extent fowls may be used to cultivate crops while destroying insects and weeds among them.

The swimming faculty in these birds is of further interest because of its relation to the development of the body plumage. If a land bird is placed in the water, the feathers are quickly saturated, the water penetrating to the skin. A duck or other swimming bird will remain in the water for hours without the water penetrating the feathers. This is commonly supposed to be due to the presence of a large amount of oil in the feathers, but the difference in the oiliness of the feathers of fowls and of ducks is not great enough to account for the difference in resistance to the penetration of water. The peculiar quality of the plumage of swimming birds is its density. If you take up a fowl and examine the plumage you will find that it is easy to part the feathers so that the skin can be seen. It may be done with the fingers, or even by blowing gently among the feathers with the mouth. Now try to separate the feathers of a duck so that the skin will be visible. You find it much harder, because the feathers are so thick and soft and at the same time so elastic. The familiar phrase "like water from a duck's back" is not especially appropriate. The feathers on the back of most birds are a very effective protection against rain. The feathers all over a duck are such poor conductors of water that it is hard to remove them by scalding. The structure of the plumage of swimming birds adds to their buoyancy in the water. They do not have to exert themselves to remain on the surface, but float like cork.

Domestic birds which produce many eggs require special supplies of food containing lime to make the shells. Until within a few years it was universally believed--and it is still commonly supposed--that birds needed grit to take the place of the teeth nature did not give them, and assist in the grinding of the food in the gizzard. Many close observers now reject this idea because they find that birds supplied with digestible mineral foods do not eat those that are not digestible. A bird does not need teeth to grind its food, because it is softened in the crop and the gastric juice acts upon it before the grinding process begins.

In mammals the embryo grows as a part of the body of the parent, the substances which build it up coming from the parent form as they are needed. In birds a tiny germ--the true egg--is put, with all the material needed for its development as an embryo, in a sealed package, which may be taken thousands of miles away from the parent, and, after lying dormant for weeks, may begin to grow as soon as the proper conditions of temperature are applied. The food value of the germ of an egg is inappreciable. We use the egg to get the material stored up in it for the young bird which would come from the germ.

When a yolk is full-grown it drops into the funnel-shaped mouth of the oviduct. Here it is inclosed in a membranous covering, called the chalazae, and receives a coating of thick albumen. The function of the chalazae is to keep the yolk suspended in the center of the egg. It does not merely inclose the yolk, but, twisted into cords, extends from either end and is attached to the outer membrane at the end of the egg.

After leaving the funnel the egg passes into a narrow part of the oviduct, called the isthmus, where it receives the membranous coverings which are found just inside the shell. From the isthmus it goes into the lowest part of the oviduct--the uterus. Here the shell is formed, and at the same time a thin albumen enters through the pores of the shell and the shell membranes and dilutes the thick albumen first deposited. After this process is completed the egg may be retained in the oviduct for some time. It is, however, usually laid within a few hours.

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