they are so showy and bright it makes you almost think you are in the woods.  At Madame Oiseau Mort’s, where I get my millinery, there was another hat I had a notion to take.  It was built up with robins’ wings and part of a tern was on it too, I believe—­just lovely! but afterward I was glad I didn’t buy it, for that decoration is more common.  I counted nine hats in church last Sunday trimmed with gulls.  Of course they were pretty, for a handsome bird makes any hat pretty.

“By the way, Nell, I must tell you something perfectly ridiculous!  Do you know papa pretends it’s wicked for women to wear birds on their hats or trim their gowns with feather trimming?  Did you ever?  I told him we’d be a mighty sorry-looking set going around like a lot of female Dunkards or Salvation Army women, without a bit of style, and he said those women hadn’t the sin on their souls of wearing birds that had been killed on purpose to minister to their vanity; that he’d rather be a peaceful-faced Dunkard woman or Salvationist with her plain bonnet and her gentle heart than a gay society butterfly with her empty head loaded down with dead birds.

“Isn’t it perfectly horrid for him to talk like that?  He is such an old fogy in his ideas he actually makes me tired.  Then he went on to say that never again could he believe that women are the tender-hearted creatures they have always been supposed to be, when they show themselves so eager to be decked with the innocent songsters whose lives are sacrificed by the million on the altar of fashion; the men have always been taught that woman’s nature was morally superior to theirs, but we’d have to give up this criminal fad which we have persisted in at such a fearful price of bird life before we could be regarded as other than monstrously cruel and bloody.  However, he prophesied that the fashion can’t continue much longer anyway, because there soon won’t be any birds left, and then, he says, we’ll have a world without its sweetest music.  It will be hushed by the folly of woman.

“Oh, Nell, don’t you dislike to have anybody lecture you like that?  It makes one feel so uncomfortable.  I don’t suppose it’s so very wrong to wear bird trimming or our minister’s wife wouldn’t do it.  You know her black velvet hat with that big bird on it with the red points on the wings, is one of the most striking hats that come to church.  And her feather muff is so elegant, awfully expensive too.  And what would her hat look like without that bird on it, I’d like to know?  So if it isn’t wicked for her it isn’t wicked for us, Nell, and I’m not going to give up looking nice just to please papa.  He’d like to have me dress as antiquated as old Mrs. Noah when she came out of the ark, but I’m not going to encourage him in his old-fashioned notions.  And here, Nell, just listen to this!  Don’t you think, he says the Episcopal Prayer Book ought to be revised for the women worshipers and omit that part of the litany where it says, ’From pride, vain-glory, and hypocrisy, good Lord, deliver us.’  What fol-de-rol!” And being out of breath she stopped talking and they walked away down the street together.