"Make way!" shouted the owner. He ran for the door, stepped outside, and fired another shot - bang! - at the disappearing bird. His shot was too late. The cob was safe in the sky, beyond the range of the gunfire. He was headed home, toward the southwest, high above the roofs and spires of Billings. In his beak was the trumpet. In his heart was the pain of having committed a crime.
"I have robbed a store," he said to himself. "I have become a thief. What a miserable fate for a bird of my excellent character and high ideals! Why did I do this? What led me to commit this awful crime? My past life has been blameless - a model of good behavior and correct conduct. I am by nature law-abiding. Why, oh, why did I do this?"
Then the answer came to him, as he flew steadily on through the evening sky. "I did it to help my son. I did it for love of my son Louis."
Discussion: In real life is it acceptable to do what the cob did? To steal for the love of someone? Please explain.
I like your text to text comparison Taylor! I disagree with you about the owner shooting the cob. It isn't nice to shoot a trumpeter swan in real life but, in this story I think if it wasn't in this story it wouldn't be the same.
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