CHAPTER XXV.
WEBSTER, DANIEL.
A long time ago, not quite a century, however, upon a New England farm, a mischievous woodchuck was caught after much time and patience had been expended. It was the intention of the farmer's sons to put the animal to death, but the younger boy's heart was touched with pity; he begged that the captive might go free. His brother objecting, the case was carried to the father.
"Well, my boys," said the farmer, "there is the prisoner; you shall be the counsel and plead the case for and against his life and liberty, while I will be the judge."
The older boy, whose name was Ezekiel, opened the case. He urged the mischievous nature of the animal, cited the great harm already done, said that much time and strength had been spent in securing him, and now, if he were
set free, he would only renew his depredations. He also urged that it would be more difficult to catch him again, for he would profit by this experience and be more cunning in the future. It was a long and practical argument, and the proud father was apparently quite affected by it. Then came the younger boy's turn. He pleaded the right, of anything which God had made, to life. He said that God furnished man with food, and all they needed; could they not spare this little creature who was not destructive, and who had as much right to his share of God's bounty as they had; could they not spare to him the little food necessary to existence? Should they in selfishness and cold-heartedness take the life which they could not restore again, and which God had given?
During this appeal tears started to the father's eyes, and while the boy was in the midst of his argument, not thinking that he had won the case, the judge started from his chair, and, dashing the tears away, exclaimed:
"Zeke! Zeke! you let that woodchuck go!"
