Almost every daily paper we take up has a wail from some sparrow-haunted pen. This is what the editor of the Montreal Star has to say about the wail of his constituents:

"And at last the sparrows have become so powerful that they fight among themselves, and the Manitous who brought them here pronounce them a 'nuisance,' like the 'fire-water' which destroyed the Manitous to whom the native songsters used to sing so many years ago. Vengeance has come home to roost. In the early morning the indigenous used to cheer even the Manitous of the sparrows with their little songs, and now the Manitous swear - bad men - at the pale faces of the air because they twitter, but do not sing, and in general conduct themselves like the 'border villians' that they are. True they have killed all the caterpillars in the cities, and eaten many of the worms in the gardens, but yet their Manitous are not happy, for the sparrows make hideous noises in the early mornings, and the Manitous sigh for the sweet singing songsters of other days, and they no longer think those pale faces of the air a thing of beauty and a joy forever."

One of our own correspondents writes: "I don't deny that they have cleared the street trees of Philadelphia of leaf eating vermin and given shade to the city squares where dying trees, bare of foliage, were once the rule; but what is this to me when I can get no peas, no nothing, for the rascals."