www.whyville.net Aug 1, 2004 Weekly Issue

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Tiger, Tiger, Burning Bright

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Hey, this is DePrAvEd, signing on to tell you about something I found out while watching the movie "Two Brothers".

For those of you who haven't seen the film yet, at the end of the movie, they say that about a century ago there were over 100,000 tigers in the wild. Now, because of hunting (and probably other factors), there are less than 5,000 tigers left in the wild.

I got online right away to see what I could do to help these poor, innocent animals. First I went to http://www.twobrothersthemovie.com. In the bottom right-hand corner, there was a link to another website, which tells you what you can do to save these animals. This website is http://www.wwf.org.uk/core/wildlife/fs_0000000034.asp.

I hope you can find the time to visit that site, just as I did. Tigers face so many threats when it comes to humans, and we can do something about it. We need to stop the hunting that's going on, because when I say there's less than 5,000 tigers in the wild, I mean in the whole entire world.

I felt so sorry for the tigers that I just had to do something. Please try to go to the websites, to learn what we can do to stop the killing.

Thanks. This is DePrAvEd, siging off! *beep*

Editor's Note: Before anybody asks, the title of this story comes from William Blake's classic poem, "The Tiger":

    Tiger, tiger, burning bright

    In the forests of the night,
    What immortal hand or eye
    Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

    In what distant deeps or skies
    Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
    On what wings dare he aspire?
    What the hand dare seize the fire?

    And what shoulder and what art
    Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
    And when thy heart began to beat,
    What dread hand and what dread feet?

    What the hammer? what the chain?
    In what furnace was thy brain?
    What the anvil? What dread grasp
    Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

    When the stars threw down their spears,
    And water'd heaven with their tears,
    Did He smile His work to see?
    Did He who made the lamb make thee?

    Tiger, tiger, burning bright
    In the forests of the night,
    What immortal hand or eye
    Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?


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